Title: Supernova Junkie
Author: ScullyAsTrinty
Category: Uhh...?
Rating: R
Summary: It's all a supernova when it explodes. Everything. The degree of
light and heat is the same when they die and when she comes.
Dedication: To Trin-ttlg, just because she's freaking awesome and her
fiction is clutch!!! :::raises glass:::
[Supernova Junkie]
This time, the sweat on his skin feels like he had been in a mosh pit for three hours. Dirt clings to his skin, caking in some spots, creating odd patterns like ones found in clouds. Looking down at his bicep he thinks he can decipher a dog, but he doesn't let the thought linger. He has more important and pressing things to attend to.
The codes scroll down in front of his eyes, but he no longer sees it as code. He now sees it for what it was, lifeless bodies strewn at his feet. Blood and guts and gore all around. He has learned not to feel for the lives that they once were. He has learned to turn around and walk away from the corpses and not give them a second thought. They weren't human, and their families wouldn't really miss them because their families weren't really human either.
They were all pawns in an elaborate chess game, their only purpose being pieces to be moved by either the real people, or by their opposition. Each, essentially, an empty vessel to be used for either good or evil.
The heat behind his eyelids phases out, like dying embers in a fireplace. His heart rate slows and falls into a normal ryhthm.
Now, when they fall, they don't simply crack. They're a burst of all encompassing light that takes his breath away, makes him lightheaded. He kicks, he kills, and it feels like he's flyin every time. He'd give anything to feel that way all the time. Feel like he's taking off and he's never going to land. He feels like that when he kisses her; he feels like that when he kills them. For a moment, both elements bleed into one and he forgets where she begins and they end.
It's all a supernova when it explodes. Everything. The degree of light and heat is the same when they die and when she comes.
Whenever he kills an agent, he gets a rush, a thrill which is unmatched by anything.
Anything except being inside Trinity.
It is times like this when he longs to be with her, express his pain and hatred in primal thrusts into her body. He wished to show her how much he hated the agents, how much he loves her. Whoever said that you cannot love and hate at the same time was wrong. It was entirely too easy to use her body to show her love and his absolute resentment for the machines.
The only thing that matches the addictive slide of skin on skin when he was with her is heroin. Strong, potent, dark and sexy. Entirely too dangerous. He needs her body, if only to try and prove just how much he needs her, cherishes her...
But there are more important things to intend to.
The leather of his pants crunches as he moves, dust dissipating in the still air. He smells of sweat and sex and power.
All he can smell is anticipation. The black leather of his boots is caked in dirt and blood, and he kicks them on the pavement. The sound it makes is louder than a gunshot in his ears and makes his eyes tint a shade darker.
The next wave of agents comes and all he can think of is her... and heroin.
[Supernova Junkie]
This time, the sweat on his skin feels like he had been in a mosh pit for three hours. Dirt clings to his skin, caking in some spots, creating odd patterns like ones found in clouds. Looking down at his bicep he thinks he can decipher a dog, but he doesn't let the thought linger. He has more important and pressing things to attend to.
The codes scroll down in front of his eyes, but he no longer sees it as code. He now sees it for what it was, lifeless bodies strewn at his feet. Blood and guts and gore all around. He has learned not to feel for the lives that they once were. He has learned to turn around and walk away from the corpses and not give them a second thought. They weren't human, and their families wouldn't really miss them because their families weren't really human either.
They were all pawns in an elaborate chess game, their only purpose being pieces to be moved by either the real people, or by their opposition. Each, essentially, an empty vessel to be used for either good or evil.
The heat behind his eyelids phases out, like dying embers in a fireplace. His heart rate slows and falls into a normal ryhthm.
Now, when they fall, they don't simply crack. They're a burst of all encompassing light that takes his breath away, makes him lightheaded. He kicks, he kills, and it feels like he's flyin every time. He'd give anything to feel that way all the time. Feel like he's taking off and he's never going to land. He feels like that when he kisses her; he feels like that when he kills them. For a moment, both elements bleed into one and he forgets where she begins and they end.
It's all a supernova when it explodes. Everything. The degree of light and heat is the same when they die and when she comes.
Whenever he kills an agent, he gets a rush, a thrill which is unmatched by anything.
Anything except being inside Trinity.
It is times like this when he longs to be with her, express his pain and hatred in primal thrusts into her body. He wished to show her how much he hated the agents, how much he loves her. Whoever said that you cannot love and hate at the same time was wrong. It was entirely too easy to use her body to show her love and his absolute resentment for the machines.
The only thing that matches the addictive slide of skin on skin when he was with her is heroin. Strong, potent, dark and sexy. Entirely too dangerous. He needs her body, if only to try and prove just how much he needs her, cherishes her...
But there are more important things to intend to.
The leather of his pants crunches as he moves, dust dissipating in the still air. He smells of sweat and sex and power.
All he can smell is anticipation. The black leather of his boots is caked in dirt and blood, and he kicks them on the pavement. The sound it makes is louder than a gunshot in his ears and makes his eyes tint a shade darker.
The next wave of agents comes and all he can think of is her... and heroin.