Disclaimer: Does it look like we could ever own any of these characters? Believe me, we probably wouldn't be here if we did.
Warning: You don't deserve a warning if you haven't figured it out by now.
Amethyst
Goddamn it all, why do I have to go out in the rain? Why can't it be a nice, cloudy-but-not-wet night? Is the weather against me or something?
But no, she had to go send that note!
So here I am, sitting on my butt in the middle of a downpour. Ugh. Never wear leather in the rain. It's disgusting.
Why isn't it 9 o'clock yet? I must have been sitting here for over an hour. Damn, why didn't I bring a watch?
Well, it must be getting close to nine; the TV crews are setting up around the museum. Policemen are also patrolling the area.
A shiver runs up my spine. Will he be here tonight? If he tries that same stunt he pulled before, I swear I'll kill him. If I can.
Okay, no. I can't kill him. Not now, not ever.
Suddenly, I tense up. There's something moving behind me. The police? No, they wouldn't have found me that easily. It must be-
I barely have time to register the fast motion before I find myself pinned to a tree. And handcuffed. I've really got to ask him how he learned that trick.
"Hello," he purrs, apparently pleased to see me trapped. " I was surprised that you'd attempt this today."
"Oh, really?" I reply sarcastically. "And why's that?"
He leans forward so that our eyes are level. "I know you dislike the rain." That sadistic grin never leaves his face as he watches me struggle against the cuffs.
I growl at him, "Great. Now let me go."
"No," he says.
Man, he is getting me riled up! "Then what are you going to do to me? Torture me?"
He pauses, staring at me. "It depends on what you mean by torture. Physical-" he slams my head back against the tree- "mental, or emotional? Your choice."
Does he really expect me to answer that? I hope not, because I'm not going to. Instead, I opt for glaring at him while trying to ignore the pain radiating from my head.
"Stubborn as always, hm?" He stares at me again for a moment, then roughly grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls me forward.
And I would have been gasping in shock if I had any real willpower or coherent thought. But of course, all I can think is 'How did he learn to kiss like this!' Trust me, he's that good.
When he pulls away, I realize that there is something cold and metallic resting on my tongue. I spit it out; a key. I'll let you go this time," he whispers. "Don't expect it to happen again."
My mind seems to have gone numb. I just stare down at the key, then at his retreating back. Finally, I stammer, "Why, Krad?"
He doesn't turn around. "I don't know, but don't get used to it." Then he glances back at me. "But it looks as if I'm the thief tonight, Dark."
Dark Mousy and Krad from D N Angel
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