Sevenfold

Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh.
Date: March 21, 2008
Warning: rated around 'T ' for the usual lust-related stuff. I think. Well, really just an enormous double entendre. Oh, and there's Kaiba confusion. But it's him. Just trust me; it doesn't say it, but it's him. I know - I wrote it. Heh.

Green: Lust

Everyone was going.

It was new, relatively unknown – a haven for young, restless creatures who wanted to drown in a dizzy, electric sea. The cover charge was low and the dress code was novel; pay to get in, drink for free, wear a mask and dance all night.

Poison – Domino's hottest new underground spot.

Anzu followed her two friends inside, shoving her money down and avoiding the pull of the endless sea of bodies stretched across the floor. The paint on the walls was peeling; all the lights seemed neon, bright and earnestly illuminating what small space they could. All she could see was green; everyone wore black and bright, acid green – the color spun around and around as people walked and danced and ran, a sort of hysteric new rainbow of only one stunningly bright hue.

Lights flashed. A woman in a short skirt carried a tray of shots over towards them. Both girls Anzu was with took one of the tubes and poured it down the respective throat. Anzu pulled at the string of her mask, straightening it against her hair.

There were so many people. She wasn't shy but she was uncomfortable, jostled about and packed so tightly she could barely breathe. Through the smiles and laughter and wild, raucous obliviousness she made her way to the dance floor.

Music was playing; but it wasn't really music, it was rhythmic noise, crisp and bubbling and with a beat one could feel from her fingertips to her toes. Anzu closed her eyes.

She felt it all through her body - the pulsing, pumping beat.

And so she did the only thing that felt right then; she danced. Amidst the sweaty, heaving crowd she found her place. Everything else melted away into the black and the green and the sparkling scene – she followed her body's impulses and soon got swept away.

They were staring.

People around her noticed and watched, her movements intoxicating and hypnotic. She was a butterfly, buffeted around by her own force of wind – a gossamer angel of synthetics and sweat.

Those who wanted to join were nervous, struck by her skill, impeded by their own mediocrity. Anzu was suddenly a goddess; and no one could touch her but a god.

He came, sidling up beside her with leather pants and a button-down top of sickly-sweet acid green. It didn't seem to suit him but he wore it well, anonymity a goal and conformity something that made him paradoxically stand out. A mask – in the style of American superheroes – hid his eyes; but they found her and as she twirled to get the feel for the next song his chest found her back.

She stopped, turned around to face him.

He extended a hand

And as soon as she grabbed it they were a whirlwind. Electricity shot up her spine – everything was fast-paced, racing, flying, but they moved with grace and sensuality and – he, too, had wings.

Something inside bid her be reckless. She did not know this man. She could not see his face; she had not heard his voice. He was anyone. He was everyone she had ever wanted; everyone suddenly who had ever touched her, who ever would.

His hands found her hips; they gripped tight and low, pulling her closer. She was better, and she knew it; but he had confidence – he exuded it. And he was by no means an unsatisfactory partner. She hurt – a wonderful, exquisite pain as her body pulsed, eager to beat in time with his. They were so close; they shared space and air. They were suddenly one entity; suddenly a single unit. An energy was building, a tension more than just sexual. As they moved she could feel his frame like it was one with hers; the sinewy twist of his body a parallel to the smooth rocking of her own.

His body was hers.

Suddenly he leaned closer, his mouth at her neck, lips there but not quite touching the tingling, trembling skin. He spoke, words breathed across her neck, dancing down to her shoulders like a hot, humid breeze. Things were too loud; ears were nearly bursting, filled with sound - so whatever he might have actually spoken registered as nothing more than an exhale. She did not know what he said; but she knew what he meant.

Anzu had come to dance; she never came to meet someone and usually even the brave men who asked her to dance were brushed aside like the insignificants they were. But this man had not asked. He had demanded; he had taken her, given her no choice. And God, it felt good.

It was better than the pounding acid of alcohol in her blood, better than the way her feet could find any beat and follow it like it came from the pumping of her heart.

She wanted to dance. She wanted to ballet and ballroom and feel her back pressed against a wall as this unknown angel wailed. There was rhythm; she wanted to feel it, rocking harder, wanted to explode with the tempo as it heightened and sped.

The mood changed as a slower song came on. Techno music blasted around them as Anzu swung around, wings flailing as he caught her, reeling her in and then pushing her out again. He faced her now, and she stared at the patch of skin his shirt didn't cover, right as his neck and shoulders faded to chest.

They moved. They pushed and pulled, guiding the other toward something neither could see.

Nothing mattered. Not even the crowd around them was in focus – the walls, with paint peeling off in strips, the neon strings of lights, the bar and all its patrons in the back: everything faded into another song. And they danced.

They danced.

His hand snaked up her back, between her shoulder blades. She put delicate hands on his shoulders, staring up into eyes she couldn't see. He leaned down as she leaned up. His lips touched hers for a moment, then a moment more. Anzu could taste him, the ache suddenly gone, her being suddenly satiated.

When he left, she watched him until he had disappeared through the door.

Later, as they drifted out just before close, her friends asked who he was, asked how they met, asked if she had had a good time with such a mysterious partner.

Anzu smiled enigmatically as the world wept acid green around them, patrons filing out, back into the world. He was still – would always be – a stranger.

And one day they would dance again.

Author's Ramble: Okay. I hope everyone enjoyed this! I finished it very recently; needed something to take my mind off other stuff. And of the nearly 140 of you who read this, I'd like to thank the two who reviewed. No, I'm not going to beg for reviews; this is a project I've chosen to undertake and I plan to finish it. This couple is just too awesome to stop now - there's still so much more "exploration of everything Azure" (as my summary says - ha ha) to do. But I'd like feedback anyway. Heh. Oh, I'm also in a terrible mood right now and I just need something to be bitter about.

This feels trippy to me; I don't know why, but I can't write very realistic description unless it's in a regular story format, and even then I'm not great. And I don't even pull off the floaty awesome one-shot feeling a lot of authors have got down so well. It almost feels like I'm trying to be better than I am. Which is wrong and completely unfortunate, because I sort of think in that trippy everything-is-sparkly-and-smelling-of-purple way I wrote this. I don't know... Blah. Maybe I just write everything like it's very, very surreal. Perhaps I should just put in men with bowler hats and melting clocks...

I just have a lot of complaints about this. There's no characterization at all. And I suck so very royally at endings. I don't know if it accurately conveys the "lust", though I used the green theme so much it felt like I was beating a dead horse. I could have gotten a lot more metaphorical because of the trippy-ness, but I decided that for something like this simplicity was best. If you think you see something else, then you're probably right - I just wouldn't read too deeply. I dunno. It's done and I just hope it isn't a completely egregious piece of pseudo-writing babbly stuff.

Anyway, see everyone for the next bit! Which should be... interesting, as right now I have no ideas for it. Green: Wrath. We'll see how that goes.

Reviews are, as always, greatly appreciated! I fear I'm going to get (and perhaps deserve) a lot of criticism for this one... But that's okay! I do want to improve.