title: Willingly
pairing: Anzu x Yami Bakura
summary: "It is want, stronger want… it's what some call love, others greed, it is everything, but above all desire."
rating: M (as always)
notes: Its the most in character Bakura I've ever written. For reference, as someone made this mistake previously. Anzu isn't directly implying that Yuugi, Jou, Honda and all the rest use her, but its more playing on her wants that she feels. Because Bakura's a manipulator, and the little bit of every person that resents self sacrifice is what he is playing upon.
standard disclaimer applies

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Anzu stood firmly looking down at him. Her eyes were wide with what she had just done, both in triumph and fear of his reaction. Her hand still raised from where she had slapped him. Bakura was holding his face, her angry finger prints burning on his pale cheek. He turned back slowly to her, a dark glint in his eye. Anzu lowered her hand and gulped, all senses telling her to run, but the look in his eye making her stay… that and combined with the warm feeling in her stomach that was uncurling like a snake.

"You deserved that Bakura! Don't you ever, ever, say that about me again!" she raised her hand again to slap him, but he caught her this time, his long fingers catching her small wrist in a death grip.

Bakura always had a good sense of smell. Everything stayed in his memory… The smell of a unopened tomb, blood, metal, skin, different perfumes, the royal gardens, foods, meat cooking, meat raw. He also knew the different smells of people… they always smelt different… blood… flesh, sweat, especially scared humans, like Anzu now. She smelt different though… like jasmine in the night mixed with a fruit, blended onto her tangy human scent as well as alcohol. He lifted her wrist to her nose and took a deep breath. She jerked in his grip, but could not pull away; he took it all in, storing it under things to be remembered on a better day when he was close to dieing finally and could afford to dwell on the sweet smell of women.

"Let go of me!" she snapped.

"No." he took her wrist away from his face and lent closer, smelling all of her. She squirmed, he released he must be scaring her, but he didn't care, had he ever?

"You sick bastard!" she yelled, but he just for the moment ignored her, his hand went around her waist, bringing her close, the rough silk of her formal dress sliding against his hand, she squirmed a bit more, but his grip was unbreakable. He put his hand to her neck and traced it up, along her jaw, over her lips, so small and full. He leant forward, brushing a kiss over them like dust, they were soft, covered in lipstick. He frowned, that some how ruined it… she was so covered up… under all that modern makeup, as Ryou called it.

He noticed how very still she had gone in his arms, watching him. He smirked… perhaps she was not as resisting to him as she would like to believe of herself. Carefully he raised a hand to her lips again, then wiped off with a thumb the red stain on her lips, it was just now on his thumb, though it did annoy him how some of it was still left over. But he watched as her pink tongue darted forward, wiping the remaining lipstick off.

"Bakura, are you going to kiss me properly?" she whispered, her fear of him gone. He looked up to her eyes quickly. Why did she have to do something as annoying as speaking...? It ruined his illusion.

"Wanting me now? My, how things change… I don't think I should… since you hit me…" he grabbed one of her stiff arms, and bent it so that her fingers were over the place that she had hit him.

"Then kindly let me go!" she snapped, however she did not remove her hand off his face.

"Why? When I know you are just as angry at the world as I. You ran away from your fancy party because you were angry. You are no more content than I am, so stop pretending, you liar."

"Let me go!" she began squirming again. Her nails digging into his cheek.

"When are you going to learn that does nothing?" he snapped, but she didn't stop. So to make her cease her annoying movement, he picked a particular point on her side and jabbed. Instantly she stood ramrod straight, her face flushing.

"That was low."

"I am low." He smirked as she growled. "But you are too, that is why when I kiss you, your not going to fight me, not now not ever."

"You don't know that." Anzu breathed out quietly as his face came closer to her. "Oh you don't know that!" she removed her hand from his face and shoved him back, turning away from him, she wrapped her hands around her elbows… wanting desperately to get away. "I don't want to be low… I don't want to be like you!" she wailed, shivering in the cold.

"Anzu…" he whispered, not letting her go for too long. He wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning his chin on her shoulder. She could hear his breath; it sent shivers down her spine.

"Bakura… stop it… I don't want to be like you… I don't want to be hated and used and abandoned." She whimpered.

"You already are… you already are… cant you see it? They use your smile, your happiness, and your words. They never say thank-you. They never give them back… take something for yourself." He told her, her will was weakening, he could tell.

"If I was… wha –what should I take?" she turned her head slightly to face him.

"Take whatever you want. The world is yours… take it." His words instilled into her a fierce passion; it started in her stomach and sprawled out, like a ship unfurling its sails to a strong north wind. Without warning, she turned in his embrace and kissed Bakura, though, he knew she was going to, his arms clutched tight around her waist, her delicate silk dress becoming crushed in his hands. She pulled away, her breath short, shoulders trembling like a child who has been crying.

"What am I feeling Bakura? What is it? I haven't ever felt it before" she was frightened of herself, he almost had to laugh at her.

"It is want, stronger want… it's what some call love, others greed, it is everything, but above all desire." Desire and Bakura were old friends, having kept each other company on many cold nights with only ale to wet their throats. But though many knew it, desire was always kept hidden, like a mistress of a married man. Hushed into dark corners till the last moment when all is revealed in bright glory.

"Teach me about desire Bakura…" she linked her arms around his neck, pressing her body harder against him, all of her soul shaking for his touch.

"Willingly, oh so willingly…"

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afterahardday