Weiss Kreuz belongs to Koyasu Takehito of course, so please don't sue me. The most you'll get is a few pennies.
End of the Game
Crawford. Attitude: I'm
better than you are, and I always will be. Funny thing is, it's the
truth. He has brains; he has everything he wants, because he knows
what he wants. And damn, if he doesn't have what he wants, he's going
to get it, and he's going to get it soon.
So how about me then?
Attitude: Mocking. Mocking. All I can do is mock, mess with your
head, yeah I can do that. Unlike him, I don't know what I want.
...That's not entirely true, I know something. Him. I want Crawford.
And I usually do get what I want, but... not with him. Its not the
matter of, I want it so I get it. It doesn't work that way. I can't
just want him and then get him. He has to WANT me. I want him to want
me. I'll make him want me... easy enough to say, hard to do. But,
maybe its not so hard...
Another mission completed, but not without its problems. So I was bleeding; well hell, the bullet only grazed my arm, but he's acting like I fucked up the whole mission. (Sorry to interrupt, I do not usually cuss, but since I am writing this story and in STORY mode then I will.) And I told him that, so he wrenched my arm, my bad arm, and then pulled me into the bathroom. I had sat on the toilet scowling at him as he searched through the medicine, for the most painful one probably. When he turned back he met my scowl with tired eyes. I hate when his eyes look tired... somehow it makes me sad... I don't like seeing him like that.. I don't like seeing that weakness... knowing that even Brad Crawford could have a weakness.. It's not right... You of all people, you shouldn't have one defect. You are strong. You could rule the world if you wanted, if you tried hard enough... So I follow, like a little lovesick puppy... Damn, that's what I sound like too, sitting there, thinking of how tired he looks, yet how he still can look so good.
He kneels in front of me, I didn't even notice; still lost in the tiredness of his creamy eyes, well not until he put the medicine on my arm. Damn, it stung. I hissed and pulled away from him, or tried, he just pulled me back and cleaned out the wound. I then watched as he wrapped it up, carefully. When he was done he pulled away to wash my blood off his hands. I watched it drain down the sink, dripping from his hands. He turned back to me, watching me, deadly silent. I sighed and apologized, muttering it lowly, knowing he would still hear. He walked to me, and I expected the same old speech. It never came. Instead he lifted my arm and kissed my wound... I don't think I've ever gotten over the shock.
Brad Crawford, THE Brad Crawford, bastard extraordinaire, was kissing my wound... He lifted his head and looked at me at the sharp intake of breath I took. Our eyes locked and I read them. Tiredness because of me, because I'm reckless... because he... because he cares for me? Because.. Why? ... Brad... His lips rise up and press against mine and we are lost in each other, my lips open welcoming his tongue, and I still cannot release my breath. It didn't matter... If I died, I would die happy. But before I could, he pulled back, swiftly running his tongue over my bottom lip, and the breath left me.
"Schuldig... Stop being
so reckless."
A nod, I finally opened my
eyes and looked up at him. I could only sigh as he reached down,
lifted me in his arms and carried me off to his room. So... maybe he
does want me. I should know by now not to ask questions, they're
never answered... But, why? It doesn't matter, does it? No, all that
matters now is the way his skin feels against mine.
Drawde Noel