Author: Darks Light
Beta Reader: flamethrowerqueen
Chapter 5
Bakura leered down at the small boy pinned below him after having shut him up with another slap across the face; he was going to enjoy this…
…
"Marik!" Bakura growled, as Marik's foot came in contact with his chest before sending him flying off the bed and into the nearest wall. Sitting up with a slight grunt of pain, Bakura glared viciously at Marik, however, the other Egyptian remained silent. Bakura stood up, scowling at the other teenage boy, fists clenched in frustration at the sight of a dagger attached at Marik's waist; he was lucky he got kicked instead of stabbed but that didn't cool the rage he was in.
"I found him!" He shouted, "You were…." He paused briefly as he thought twice about what he was going to say. "We both know what you were going to do!" he snapped, but the older blonde just stared at him as though this conversation meant nothing.
"Of what use would he be to you?" Bakura snarled, however the other boy was already walking out the door.
"Marik! Don't walk away when I'm talking to you!" Bakura yelled, following the tanned boy out the door without bothering to get dressed again.
Malik opened one eye and then the other before looking around the room; it was empty. The purple-eyed guy had saved him from the hands of the white haired one…
…
"Stop already!" Bakura shouted as he grabbed Marik's shoulders, slamming the boys back against the stone wall of the hallway.
"What am I supposed to do?" Bakura ground out. "You won't let me touch you and now you won't let me touch Malik," he muttered gripping Marik's shoulders tightly, his nails digging into the bronze flesh. He leant his head against the nicely toned chest, slightly exhausted from all the yelling.
"Sometimes I wonder if you get as much enjoyment from torturing me like this as you do from killing," Bakura muttered resentfully.
He froze, as he felt Marik's arms move around his body, only then remembering he had made the mistake of slamming Marik into a wall. Belatedly he wondered just how mad he could have made him, this cold and silent killer.
However, he wasn't sent flying, nor was he harmed or stabbed in any way. Instead, the arms wrapped around his body, drawing him into an embrace. Bakura just stood there, not knowing what to do or what to think of this unusual display of contact. Bakura looked up at Marik and what scared him the most about this situation was the purple eyes; the embrace felt warm but the eyes still remained the same: still cold, still uncaring, still lifeless.
"What am I supposed to do with him now?" Bakura asked, trying to mask the confusion in his voice as he lowered his eyes to Marik's chest again.
"Talk to him."
Bakura's head shot up as he stared at Marik. Did he just say something? There really was no other explanation but Marik wasn't looking at him now. Now, he was looking over his shoulder off to the side of the hallway. Bakura followed his gaze to see the young boy, Malik, standing at the end of the hallway, an odd look in his eyes. However, after realising he had been spotted he disappeared back around the corner of the hallway.
Marik let go and pushed Bakura away from him before walking plainly back to his room and closing the door. Bakura, confused as hell, stormed off back towards his room, noting the young blonde boy sneak past him and dart off towards the living room.
…
"What are you looking for?" Bakura muttered, as he walked out of his room in his usual long, red robe and plain white kilt, spotting the younger blonde Egyptian running in and out of rooms. The boy froze before turning around to glare at him in a mix of anger, fear and annoyance.
"Where's Marik?" the boy asked plainly, trying to stop his tattered shirt from falling off of his shoulder while at the same time keeping a good distance between the two of them. Bakura raised an eyebrow before walking down the hall towards Marik's room. The older boy wasn't there, but a small pile of ashes lay scattered on the floor. It seemed like Marik had been summoned by whoever was sending the letters.