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kh_drabble2006-06-02 12:40 pm
alexander.livejournal.com) wrote in kh_drabble2006-06-02 12:40 pm
Entry tags:
challenge piece
Challenge: Yin and Yang
Title: Ozone
Word Count: 260
Characters: Larxene/Zexion (I admit to wanting to write Larxene/Vexen first =.=' )
Spoilers: CoM.
She says she hates him, shoulder deep in sheets and silk and pillows. She tells the ceiling she hates him, wants to rip him to pieces, tear off his fingernails and watch blood pool beneath his skin. She doesn't gasp or mew or cry, but she screams as he bends her over, carefully, gently, because when one is filled with nothing they can be quite fragile. She screams, screams at him, tells him she'll kill him, she screams for him. She is noise for both of them, and tastes like white static.
He lets her fingernails rip gashes in his skin, because pain is something he can feel. He lets her hate him, because hate is something she is very good at pretending to have. They both let lust lead them, because it is as close to an emotion as anything. For him she lives in a moment, like an electric hummingbird, each second could be stretched to a lifetime. He watches her, takes a step back and wonders if he could measure her, noise and woman, hips and power. She smiles, catlike, over knives and threatens to shatter his logic.
"How do I make you feel?" She hisses, fingernails curling into his shoulders, teeth against his skin. She should know better, even wrapped around him, even flushed and panting, even as she breathes her hate against his mouth.
"…you don't."
And she screams again, curses his back as he slips out of her arms like nothing. But she knows that he tastes like air, and she wants to live.
Title: Ozone
Word Count: 260
Characters: Larxene/Zexion (I admit to wanting to write Larxene/Vexen first =.=' )
Spoilers: CoM.
She says she hates him, shoulder deep in sheets and silk and pillows. She tells the ceiling she hates him, wants to rip him to pieces, tear off his fingernails and watch blood pool beneath his skin. She doesn't gasp or mew or cry, but she screams as he bends her over, carefully, gently, because when one is filled with nothing they can be quite fragile. She screams, screams at him, tells him she'll kill him, she screams for him. She is noise for both of them, and tastes like white static.
He lets her fingernails rip gashes in his skin, because pain is something he can feel. He lets her hate him, because hate is something she is very good at pretending to have. They both let lust lead them, because it is as close to an emotion as anything. For him she lives in a moment, like an electric hummingbird, each second could be stretched to a lifetime. He watches her, takes a step back and wonders if he could measure her, noise and woman, hips and power. She smiles, catlike, over knives and threatens to shatter his logic.
"How do I make you feel?" She hisses, fingernails curling into his shoulders, teeth against his skin. She should know better, even wrapped around him, even flushed and panting, even as she breathes her hate against his mouth.
"…you don't."
And she screams again, curses his back as he slips out of her arms like nothing. But she knows that he tastes like air, and she wants to live.
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