[five senses]
*taste
He could never get that taste out of his mouth.
That smooth, warm feeling that tastes like the summer rain.
I suppose, he muses, with his lips pressed against something akin to silk and his hands curled lazily in silver-white hair, it's not really a bad thing, after all.
*smell
Bakura Ryou always smelled nice.
Mou hitori no Ryou could never figure it out.
Even in those cloudy days, when he beat him and hit him and made him bleed, Ryou always had that fresh scent, like the scent of rain beating gently against bright leaves.
Even when the scent was saturated in the feeling of blood, it was always nice.
Always.
And now, with the yami no Bakura Ryou's chin resting on Ryou's head, the pure essence - the strong smell of innocence, yet never overpowering - makes him wonder.
How does he always smell so nice?
He wants to steal this scent.
*hear
He likes it when his pretty hikari moans.
Come to think of it, he likes any sound his hikari makes.
But he especially likes it when Ryou:
screams (especially when the screams are caused by him)
moans (especially when the moans are caused by him)
and says so softly, "Mou hitori no boku..." or the tentative "Yami..." (he loves it he loves it!)
His pretty hikari has such a pretty voice; light and steady and always, always beautiful.
Yami no Bakura hopes that Ryou's voice will never change, because his favorite part of the day is when Ryou gently slips his hand into his and whispers, "Yami, will you always be here? With me?"
And that voice - that pretty voice - makes him want to scream and laugh and bleed and run and stay, all at once.
But every day, he stops himself and answers gruffly, "Always, mou hitori no ore."
*touch
Maybe I will go insane the next time he touches me, he thinks, because that is how he feels when Ryou touches him.
Feather-light and always so teasing - never consciously, of course - as if daring him to hunger for more.
Damn it. I'm not supposed to be this weak!
But when hesitant lips slide dryly against his own, and a clothed chest shyly presses up against him, so close that he can feel the steady heartbeat, his heart soars (just like a pathetic weakling's would, he snarls) and he has never felt better.
As if Ryou could heal him, no matter how deep the scar.
*see
Ryou is so pretty.
So beautiful, almost in an effeminate way.
Ryou's smile and his smile seemed so different; with his so rough and feral (his canines give him a predator-like smile) and bordering a smirk, while Ryou's is soft and small and light.
When he smiles, his eyes narrow but he doesn't close them, making it seem like he's glaring.
When Ryou smiles, his eyes shut and curves up, so trusting and naive.
He hates it. Why are you so weak? he wants to shout. Why aren't you any stronger?
If someone tries to take you, you won't be able to resist.
I don't want anyone other than me to look at you.
*[together]
He wants to be forceful.
And strong.
And emotionless and powerful and he wants revenge.
Revenge, for his death and his past of darkness.
When Ryou kisses him though, he feels strange. As if he is everything and nothing and anything.
/I can't sense anything but you,/ he thinks clumsily, unable to stop the words.
As they kiss, he is sure that Ryou is smiling.
[by rain-streaked]
crimson amnesia's notes: Yugioh does not belong to me.
I'd like to apologize to anyone who hated this fanfiction; it was written as a spur of the moment thing, when I had absolutely no ideas.
And THANK YOU, Kar [of the two-person team Hyacinthus - go read their fanfiction; it is infinitely better than mine] for your support! Even though conversations on AIM might not seem like much to you, it really helped me get up and write. [although this first attempt after a long hiatus isn't really much to brag about]
~Thank you, readers!