Shattered Iridescence.

Prompt - Clock

- an instrument for measuring and recording time, esp. by mechanical means, usually with hands or changing numbers to indicate the hour and minute: not designed to be worn or carried about.

oOo

Every day she would wait and watch as the minutes ticked slowly by on that same, big, brass clock that hung on the wall. She would always sit there - sometimes for an hour, maybe less. Once she actually fell asleep on the worn chair; made of a wooden frame with a soft, purple velvet cushion tacked to the seat. He would pass here every night on his way back to the boys' dorm and she would have a new excuse. Ready and awaiting his arrival.

This was just like every night when midnight rolled by and the entire school fell into silence. When the clocks reached midnight their shift was over and it was time to return to their dorms for a scant few hours of sleep.

She waited.

Outside the moon was obscured by massive plumes of charcoal grey clouds that fanned out across the black abyss that was the night sky. Yuuki stared blankly at the long shadows cast by the faint light getting through the window. She listened for the sounds of his footsteps echoing through the deserted corridors. Nothing disturbed the almost suffocating peace that enveloped the school.

The seconds dragged.

And the clock ticked its steady, solemn rhythm in time to the beating of her heart. She watched as the tiny hand slowly made its way around the full circuit before repeating time and time again. The larger hand was less easy to track, every so often it seemed to have leaped forward tens of minutes, when in reality time passed as it always did. Everything seemed to slow, then suddenly speed up when she was sure she heard the sounds of his footsteps.

Nothing.

And the seconds dragged into minutes.

She stood once and considered the curling stairs that would lead her to her dorm room; to her bed. The fleeting thought was short lived when she took to her seat again. A routine such as this one was so hard to break. Especially when she secretly adored these last moments before they would part ways. When she could never quite sleep easy without seeing him one last time and knowing that he made it back to his room whole and intact.

The minutes crawled by.

The fact that Zero was taking longer than normal did not worry her, but as weariness began to leak into her system and allow thoughts to pass through that she would have normally kept under lock and key she began to realise just how long she had waited. And how she would stand when she heard him coming and would pretend that she too had just reached the stairway. Sometimes she would go up it and meet him at the top. He never seemed to realise that she sometimes waited for hours just for those scant few minutes.

It was better that way. If you are enjoying yourself then time flies by at an almost unfair speed. And their quick meetings hurtled past as though they barely existed. It made her want more. He always looked tired; she loved the way his starlight hair was always a little messier than normal, the way his shirt was crumpled and how he swung his tie and jacket over his shoulder. The smooth smell of his own unique scent, underlined with sweat and dirt and life, that seemed all the more pronounced in the almost intimate darkness of the deserted corridors.

She enjoyed the way he would always place his hand on her shoulder and give her a gentle nudge while telling her, gruffly, that she should be in bed. Once she had been so close to blurting out 'I'll go if you come with me', that her cheeks had turned from pale to scarlet in a matter of seconds. Zero thought that she had a fever. Maybe she was sick, or intoxicated, these thoughts just weren't like her.

Imagining how his skin would feel beneath her fingers, what he would taste like... She was intoxicated, but with his presence or, even the thought of it. Those thoughts only crept out under the blanket of night when the sleep deprivation coaxed out things that would never grace her daylight thoughts.

And the minutes slid into hours.

Her eyelids dropped bit by bit until dark lashes dusted pale skin. The brass clock ticked by the minutes and struck the chime for three o'clock just as the soft 'thud' of footsteps resounded through the corridors. Yuuki didn't wake, didn't stir. Normally she would have jumped to her feet so that he wouldn't know that she waited for him every night without fail. So that he wouldn't see something in her that she didn't want him to know even existed. Cool, pale fingers dusted across slightly darker skin as she was shook awake.

His name dropped from her lips. Not in a friendly, cheerful manner. Heated, darker. The type of voice that was reserved only for dark rooms, bare skin against bare skin and more than casual acquaintances. Zero stilled completely when dark eyes opened to stare at him. Not in the way she always looked at him; calm, caring and achingly warm. Heated, dark and promising something more than just a dry peck on the cheek or a chirpy goodnight.

And then she realised that it was him, really him, standing over her and she recoiled. The darkness faded and was replaced by light.

Cold lips clashed with hot ones as he dived down on impulse. He tasted rich, earthy. She tasted crisp, sweet. Light Saccharine kisses were met with more forceful ones as he bent her backwards with a single hand fisted in her dark mahogany hair. This was what she waited for, that tiny moment of contact between them just before they parted ways for the night. Though he had given her more than she expected. A light brush of arm against arm as they were walking beside each other, or his hand on her shoulder.

Not his tongue sliding along the seam of her lips, or him dragging her forward so that she could wrap her hands around his shoulder. Not him filling her senses in every way imaginable. Moonstone eyes watched her with an a sharp glint she couldn't identify as he pulled back. This would never have happened in the daylight hours.

"You wait every night don't you, Yuuki."

She didn't answer. The clock continued to tick its slow, solemn march behind them.

So, I've suddenly skipped forward some years. I don't know what the next prompt will be. I have no idea, really. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and favourited - I love you guys.

Thanks for reading.

Silver xxx.