Diary entry: (Serenity's POV)

Something about him captivates me, something beyond explanation—irrational. I do not like him; I cannot for during my first and only time of meeting him he tried to kill my brother. It was in a Shadow Game, a vicious one that leaned the duel in his favor, and allowed room for his sadism. He was, no is, a monster.

However, he keeps reappearing in my dreams, not in nightmares but in dreams.

I'd be following a person cloaked in shadows, my heart beating increasingly with each step, my limbs filled with an aching desire to be within his arms. I'd follow and follow, down twisting paths, always a few steps behind, hoping to catch some glimpse to discern his identity, hoping as well that he would hold me.

Finally, we'd reach a heavily shadowed clearing, with the only light coming from behind me, and he'd turn around and I'd see his face.

Blond hair, shadowed deeply with few highlights so it seemed darker than it was, spiked in a helter-skelter arrangement, appeared as he'd lower his hood. His skin, an Egyptian bronze, appeared darker from shadow as well—the parts not obscured by his cape and lowered hood. Only his eyes seemed the same—violet and soulless, emotionless. No humanity ever shined in his eyes. Maybe because he was never truly human, only a warped personality regrettably made from a desperate necessity. That's why I pity him.

Nevertheless, I can't hate him, he's gone and will never harm anyone again, unless it's himself, and I can feel only sorry for him if that's a necessity. If he still threatened my brother or my brother's friends, I'd hate him, but not now—maybe that's irrational, but it's what I feel.

I'm always confused when I see him clearly in my dreams, he doesn't frighten me nor does he move to harm me. For a moment, he only waits for me to go to him, but when I don't, he walks over to me, and I feel my breath catch. Flustered I feel my knees quaver, and I can no longer stand; so I kneel and when he'd close enough I wrap my arms around him, my head against his stomach.

Once he brushed his fingers through my hair, hesitantly and gentle and I relaxed, listening to his breathing. Slow and steady at first, but then it turned harsh and faster, his fingers entangled in my hair.

Lifting up my head so that we stared into each other's eyes, he bent down gradually and put his lips against mine.

I always awake at that moment or before it, shock and ashamed because of what I seem to desire in those dreams. He tried to kill my brother but still I want him, to hold and…and more.

I've fallen for the version of him that haunts my dreams, but I know that that version is nothing like his true personality. I've seen his true nature, I've watched him as he dueled my brother in that Shadow Game, as I watched him duel Mai. He's vicious, and doesn't care who he hurts.

No, actually, he does care—he cares because he enjoys it. If no one got hurt, he wouldn't enjoy it, that's why he makes sure they hurt.

I know this, but something still entices me to desire him in my dreams. What's more, I enjoy it, there's excitement in its forbiddance, as there always is when something is taboo. Maybe that's why I desire him, he's everything that I will never be, and it occupies my imagination to think I might tame him—or he might corrupt me.

I'm tired of being a goody-good I want some excitement. But my brother always tries to protect me, no matter what I want. That's why he must never know of my dreams, he would freak out, and wonder what's wrong with me.

I need someone to know though, and I want to know myself—why do I desire Marik's darkness?

Short, I know. What do you think, should I write a story about this couple? What sort of relationship do you think they'd have? Please review!