Author's Note: I'm so sorry!! It took forever to update this time!! I was incredibly busy and had like, NO time to write. It sucked. But I'm back now, with Chapter 6, so all is right in the world again. Teehee. It's a litte shorter than I wanted it to be though…

Thank you to everyone who reviewed my last chapter, I love you all!

P.S: It's my Birthday!! w00t!

Chapter Six: Scar Tissue

This blonde-haired, blue-eyed man, the one with the angelic face – he is no angel. He is a fallen angel; an image of perfection surrounded by the dark aura of a tortured past. Some would say he is kin to Lucifer himself. Some see the secret scars, reflected in his eyes, and fear him. Some pity him. He wants neither. He wants to be understood, and loved again.

Yes, he's been loved before, and it is this love that haunts him. Unravel his blood-red mantle, and you will see the hidden flaws caused by this love. Those two pale, perfect circles that grace his neck, they haunt him…and three others. They are the products of Her love.

Long ago, this man was merely mortal. He was loved, but he did not love. The girl was kind; she was beautiful. She was perfect. If ever he could have loved a woman, it would have been her. He'd wanted to love her, for he hadn't wished to hurt her. She had comforted him, shared her darkest secrets with him, and she gave him a powerful gift. She gave him that which many long for with their whole being. She gave him Immortality. But along with this wondrous gift came great agony.

She'd offered to remedy this, but he could not let her. He did not love her. And so, though she had gained immortality herself, years before, and had found her solace, she took her life. The only thing Immortality cannot overcome is great despair.

The next many years of his life were lost in a mist of guilt and pain. He blamed himself for the beautiful girl's suicide because he couldn't love her.

Now, however, he knows how it feels to love unrequitedly. He knows that she does not blame him, does not scorn him. She blames herself. He blames himself for the chaos his love inflicted upon others. He cannot blame the one he loves…

Maybe he should…

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The one with the tempest's eyes, he sports these scars as well. They adorn his wrist, the two lone pearls on a nonexistent string. He too has gained immortality, but his pain was short-lived. He does not know the evils of this so-called gift. He had found the one he loved even before he needed their help, help that he took quickly, without hesitation, and without consent.

But perhaps he does not love the boy. The anguish he knew so briefly is slowly returning…

- - - - - - - - - - - -

This boy, forever frozen in the delicate age of eighteen, still endures this great anguish. He has for the past twelve years. It is eating away at him.

Those lovely scores decorate his wrist as well. It is a symbol of his Sire's wish to strengthen the Blood Bond. Little did the man know that this bond would prove to be a negative one, rather than positive. The silver-haired Childe despised the Commodore, who did not seem to notice this hate. Either that, or he simply did not care.

Oh, there have been times when the Commodore's offer had been tempting. The anguish was just too much to bear, and the boy sometimes wondered if lust would be enough to ease his pain. Perhaps it didn't have to be love after all?

But that should no longer be a problem. Not now, not since the appearance of the stowaway began to set things right.

The young, childish brunette was to be their savior. He is the one whose presence will remind to Commodore of his true love. He is the one who will save the enigmatic blonde from his dark past. He is the one who will accompany the anguished Childe on his endless journey through life.

He will clear Destiny's true path.

You will clear Destiny's true path, Sora.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The brunette woke slowly. He stretched and yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It was night now, he knew. He'd fallen into rather nocturnal sleep habits since his first day on The Mistress.

As he scrambled off the rather comfortable couch he usually slept on, he could vaguely remember dreaming. Yet, he could not remember anything about his dream, which greatly annoyed him. He spent a moment or two waking up before making his way towards the door to Riku's bedchamber.

He hesitated.

Would it be awkward between them, after yesterday's happenings?

"Riku loves you very much…"

No. Nothing would be different, not if Oriel truly was the Angel of Destiny.

Her words explained many things, like the feeling of recognition Sora had felt when he first met Riku.

No, recognition wasn't quite it. The feeling was more like…it wasn't like anything Sora had ever experienced before. It was so distinct, so indescribable.

Perhaps it wasn't a feeling? Perhaps it was….

Fate.

After all, Oriel had said that the pair had shared previous lifetimes with each other. Which explained how easily Sora and Riku had adapted to their sudden relationship. Especially Sora. Riku had already known he was capable of desiring other men. But Sora? Sora had never met anyone he desired.

Until he met Riku. It was so sudden, and so strong. He couldn't deny it, even then.

Sora took a deep, calming breath before opening the door, completely forgetting to knock. As he stepped into the room, Riku turned from the armoire, where he'd been changing clothing,

"Sora, you should be resting, you still need sleep." The silver-haired boy scolded lightly, neglecting the shirt he'd been about to put on.

The brunette's eyes raked over Riku's bare chest, half hungry, half in awe. "I got about four days of sleep after the storm."

"Real sleep."

"I'm fine…" Sora began to protest before a yawn escaped his lips, revealing his exhaustion. He allowed the daze of fatigue to descend upon him slowly before he used his last ounce of energy to drag himself to Riku's bed. He climbed in, burrowed himself in the soft blankets and multitude of pillows, and continued his procession to Dreamland.

"Sora." Riku called.

"Mmm?" came Sora's soft, drowsy reply.

Riku yawned. The brunette's sleepiness seemed contagious. "I'm tired myself."

"Mmhmm."

"You're in my bed."

"Guess you'll just have to share it then." Sora drawled out, his voice thick with drowsiness.

Riku smiled slowly and climbed into the bed. Immediately, Sora's arms were wrapped around Riku and he was snuggling into the older boy. The two lay silently together, perfectly content.

Without knowing why the younger boy pried his eyes upon and gently took hold of Riku's wrist. Something had filled him with immense curiosity.

Two thin, silver eyebrows drew closer together in confusion as the boy brought his newly-acquired lover's wrist into his sight.

There stood two shining, white scars. They were about an inch apart, maybe a little more, and looked remarkably like…

A bite mark.

Riku drew his hand away quickly, allowing it to take hold of Sora's hip so his movement would not seem suspicious.

Damn. Riku was tired. So tired. It would be so easy to sleep now, with Sora's warm body entangled with his own. But he couldn't. He had to wake Sora up. The boy couldn't be here when Dawn came on her bright wings and painted the sky blood-red with anguish.

But the boy's breathing was deep now. He was already sleeping…

…and Riku wasn't long in following.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

It was the first time in a long while that Sora had woken during the morning. But it still wasn't a natural waking, An anguished scream, which had been strained, as if escaping from the screamer's lips unwillingly, had pierced Sora's slumber.

He sat up in bed quickly, reaching desperately for Riku's hand. But Riku was gone. Sora's eyes went wide with worry as he called out his paramour's name.

"Sora." The reply was weak, a throaty, hoarse whisper.

Sora turned to its source. Riku was huddled in the corner, deathly pale, sweating, eyes bright with pain, breathing heavily. The brunette's own breath caught behind the lump forming in his throat.

What the hell was going on?!?

Sure, Sora knew Riku had…complications…concerning daylight. But he didn't know exactly what they were.

And this was completely….

….horrid. Riku looked as if he were about to die.

Sora's voice came out, strangled with worry, as a series of sputtered, indiscernible syllables.

Riku spoke again. "Sora, leave. Please, leave." His beautiful eyes, glittering with despair, begged with the sapphire orbs of the brunette.

Yet Sora remained still – stunned.

The older boy groaned and doubled over. Sora started. Riku couldn't take this. His pain was unbearable, but not as indescribably unbearable as watching Sora watch his pain.

"Now!" he yelled pleadingly.

The brunette started once more, then scrambled out of the bed and ran out of the room and into the sunlight, slamming the door shut behind him.