Hello! I tried to rush this one as fast as I could before I'm stuck with all my summer homework and busy work. Enjoy!

Love is Death

Chapter 8 – Feel

Kisara, waking from her nap, got up from the now warm floor. Her arms felt like noodles. Her entire upper body was sore from the non-stop practice from yesterday. She didn't have to look in a mirror to know that there were bags under her eyes from exhaustion.

Still sluggish, she walked over to the disintegrating wall, not bothering to open her eyes. The wall seemed to dissolve slower than usual. Kisara mumbled under her breath and dragged her feet into the hallway.

Her upper abdomen bumped into something sharp. She jerked her eyes open; chocolate eyes glared back at her. She looked downwards. The sharp object that had poked her was the golden necklace that hung around the man's neck. 'I've never noticed that before…' Kisara thought. The ring was glowing, the dangling triangular prisms pointing towards her, as if it was a compass leading the man to her.

"Bakura?" Kisara said. It sounded like a question. She was still half asleep, and her brain refused to register what was happening as a critical situation.

Kisara looked back at his eyes. He was still glaring at her, angry. A sneer found its way to Bakura's face. Gaping, she couldn't find her voice to say anything – not that she had something to say.

Bakura grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her, rather aggressively, against the wall that supported the bedroom door. Kisara, snapping into reality, froze up. Her eyes were wide and surprised by Bakura's anger.

"And where exactly have you been?" Bakura snarled. Fear leaking through every inch of her body, Kisara started to shake. Apprehension sunk into Bakura, and he released her.

Finally able to make something come out of her mouth, Kisara said, "That isn't any of your business." 'He doesn't need to know,' she thought, 'He doesn't even care. He'll only be a hindrance to me.' Her growing confidence was quickly diminished when something loud vibrated into her left ear. Fear consumed her once more. Bakura had punched the wall behind her.

"Bull," Bakura said, his eyes squinting at her. She looked back at him, her fearful crystal eyes melting his anger. He didn't show it. He left his hand where it was on the wall. 'Don't give in to the innocent stare,' thought Bakura. 'Don't give in to the angry stare,' thought Kisara.

"Well, it isn't," Kisara responded, moving towards her right side, where Bakura's arm wasn't in her way. She began her way into the bathroom when pale hands lightly held her hips. Her heart skipped beats, thinking of what Bakura was trying to do.

A tingly sensation came from her neck as Bakura set his head over her shoulder; his lips grazing her skin. Slowly, Bakura slid his hands around her waist, fully embracing Kisara. As a response, she placed her arms gently over his. She turned her head opposite of where his head laid, revealing her neck and shoulder to him.

"Why isn't it any of my business?" Bakura asked, his lips moving against her bare skin. It gave her a pleasure she could not deny.

"Because you don't know me. Why should you care?" Kisara responded, eyes opened only half way. Her voice sounded a bit bitter.

Bakura's pride got in the way of expressing his true feelings. 'Why do I care? It's true – I don't know her. There are better women out there. We're not even acquaintances…And Kaiba will definitely be a problem if our relationship continues…' Bakura thought, overlooking the fact that his heartbeat quickened everything he saw or thought of her; overlooking the fact that she was utterly gorgeous.

Kisara stood there, feeling the warmth between their bodies. She waited for the answer and when it didn't come, she pulled away from Bakura's embrace. Feeling brokenhearted she said, "See? There's no need for you to know if you don't care and don't know me."

Bakura remained silence, contemplating.

"Just go. This is a waste of time," Kisara said quietly. Feeling a pressure near her hips, she walked towards the bathroom. She restrained herself from doing the 'I need to pee' dance.

"Whose blood is in there?" Bakura asked. Kisara stopped, not turning to look at him. 'I left blood in the bathroom? I thought I washed everything off…' she thought. Bakura crossed his arms, a sneer taking its place on his face again. 'What will she answer?' he asked himself, slightly amused.

"It's mine," Kisara answered flatly, now continuing her walk to the bathroom. In a fit of rage, Bakura lifted the oversized shirt off of Kisara's body and examined her. She looked at him gaping – trying to figure out what just happened. 'Did he seriously just undress me? That quickly?!' she thought in awe.

To Bakura's disbelief, there was no scratch, bruise, or scar on Kisara's pale body. He scrutinized her more closely, and she responded by covering herself with her arms. By this time, she was confused. 'What is he looking at? He's not planning a repeat of last time, is he?' she thought worriedly.

"Where are your wounds?" Bakura asked, giving up. Kisara lost her voice again. 'Is he really that concerned?' Kisara thought, looking up at the brown eyes. They were expectant now, rather than angry. She sighed, relieved that the white haired man was no longer frustrated with her. 'And yet, I'll probably say things that will further provoke him,' she thought, 'Should I answer his question? He already knows about my ice…'

"I healed them," she answered, snatching her shirt back. She turned to her side, awkwardly trying to avoid his gaze. She put the shirt on. She turned her head towards him, trying to figure out what was going on through his mind.

'…This is weird. Why hasn't he done anything? The last time he pulled my clothes off he…er…' Kisara contemplated what she was thinking. 'Do I want him to do…that…again?' Her eyes began to show fear again before she shook it off. 'I'm going crazy…'

"How so?" Bakura asked, looking only at Kisara's crystal eyes. Something told her that his gaze was of genuine curiosity. She felt like someone punched her gut. 'Why do I feel like this? He's so confusing!' Kisara thought, trying to figure out if Bakura was after her body, her, or nothing at all, 'Maybe he's after the book again…no…he could have stolen that long ago…'

"I have powers, remember?" Kisara said, walking into the bathroom. Before she could close the door, Bakura forced himself inside. "Hey!"

"Well, I didn't like your answer. I'd love for you to elaborate," Bakura said, crossing his arms and leaning over her. A smirk played with his lips. He was handsome in that dark and mysterious sort of way, and inevitably, Kisara was pulled into the enigma that was Bakura. Her awed crystal eyes looked up at his brown ones. He cocked an eyebrow, losing the smirk. 'What could she be thinking?' he wondered.

Unconsciously, Kisara leaned forward, reaching up with her neck. Bakura's eyes widened, seeing where her lips would end up at. He backed away before she could reach his face, still crossing his arms. She looked confused when her lips didn't feel anything. She stared into space, and after a second, she snapped out of her trance and realized what she had just attempted.

Freaking out, Kisara's cheeks flooded with intrusive blood. Fed up with her confusion, she pushed Bakura out of the bathroom. Angrily, she slammed the door shut and locked it.

Bakura laughed after being pushing into the hallway. 'Apparently, she gets a lot stronger when she's embarrassed,' he thought amusedly.

In the bathroom, Kisara was finally able to use the toilet. She found the small puddles of blood Bakura had seen. 'He freaked out about a little blood? How did he even know it was blood? It doesn't even look like blood. It doesn't smell like blood in here either,' Kisara thought as she cleaned the puddles...no, spots out. Taking a towel out of a cabinet, she wiped down her blood stained mirror.

Opening the door, Bakura walked in the bathroom causally. Kisara gawked at Bakura's smirking face.

"Now, now…you didn't think I couldn't break into a bathroom now, did you?" Bakura asked cockily.

Swallowing down a surfacing curse, Kisara said, "Shouldn't you knock before coming in?"

"Why don't you just tell me what's really going on?" Bakura asked changing the subject to a more important one. Kisara sighed and annoyed sigh.

"Nothing's going on with me," Kisara answered. She ran water from the faucet on the towel, cleaning it out. After it was bloodless, she wrung it out and hung it up to dry.

"Then why haven't you been to work? I hear your boss is thinking of firing you –" Bakura was cut off.

"That BASTARD!" Kisara yelled abruptly. Bakura looked at her with a cocked eyebrow. The outburst had surprised him. Kisara looked down, shocked at herself as well.

After a second, Bakura continued, "…why hasn't anyone seen you in two weeks? Why is your house a mess? Why does that wall disappear? And why are you hurting yourself?"

"I didn't have a choice," Kisara said softly. She hoped he didn't hear her, but of course, he did. Bakura scowled at her. He wore a look of disappointment and crossed his arms.

Slowly, he walked towards her. Once a foot away from her, he suggested, "Why not use me instead?" Realizing that he was basically offering himself as a human punching bag, she squirmed away from Bakura, briskly walking out of the bathroom. She could hear Bakura following behind her.

'I would never use anyone to practice my healing. That would mean they would have to hurt themselves first. And what would happen if I couldn't heal them?' Kisara thought, looking at her living room. Her house was filthy. She bent over and started cleaning up the floor. Bakura stood at the hallway, leaning against the wall. Watching her, his brain hatched an idea.

From the corner of her eye, Kisara saw Bakura bend over as well and pick something up. For a second, she thought he was helping her to clean up.

"Ugh!" Bakura grunted, dropping the broken wine bottle to the floor, further shattering it. Kisara, turning to see what had happened, and saw blood gushing out of Bakura's arm. Rushing to him, Kisara's hands were ready to heal, glowing purple. Kneeling to his level, she grabbed his arm. She examined the injury. She was relieved that no glass made its way into the wound. Putting her hands over the red liquid, the cut slowly disappeared.

"That's better," Kisara said, gently releasing his arm. Bakura shifted his position, sitting with his legs crossed. He looked at her, a pleased expression on his face. She couldn't help but smile back. He hadn't seen him like this before.

"What?" she asked, giggling at the foreign look on Bakura's face. Spontaneously, his arm hooked around her shoulders and pulled her towards his chest.

"Uhnn…" A noise escaped her lips as she fumbled in her awkward position. Trying to get her body in a more comfortably posture, she instinctively pulled her legs in front of her and lifted them up. Now she was chest to chest with Bakura, sitting on his lap. Her hands gripped the fabric on his chest, and she closed her eyes.

'Wait…what?' Kisara asked herself as she forced her eyes open, 'What am I doing?!' She felt Bakura's other arm come around her back, gently cradling her. She felt safe. She felt "right" again. Her breathing deepened.

"Stop being stubborn and let me help you," Bakura said, burying his face in her long silky hair. His tone was gentle, almost soothing. Kisara closed her eyes, memorizing how he held her and how it felt like. She took a few minutes before replying.

"…Okay."

It was kinda a slow moving chapter, I think. I hope you guys like it.

Oh, and I was thinking that this chapter would have been interesting if it was from Bakura's pov. Maybe I'll write it as an extra chapter at the end.