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Title: The Virtuous and the Wicked
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sephiroth/Kairi (yes, really)
Summary: Her fear fed his addiction. [for
midnight_birth at
kh_request!]
“The world is terribly uninformative,” he tells her, swiping his thumb along her cheek. Blood spreads from the shallow cut, smeared like watercolor over her tan skin. “If it weren’t for your friends, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“Well, you’ll have to keep moving down the line,” she says, hatred burning in her blood – he can feel it on his fingers. “I’m not telling you anything.”
“I’m losing patience.” His voice is always without emotion, without rising or falling or pausing or passion. It makes her heart clutch at the cage of her ribs and scream. “It ends with you.”
“It’s never gonna start.” The words come harder, crawling like cowards to the back of her throat farther and farther down. She forces them out, but they sound weak, like prisoners shoved into freedom, into a new world they no longer recognize.
“You’re very quaint.” He digs his nail into the scarlet strip and she whimpers despite herself. “That’s better. Now that we’re being honest, why don’t you tell me where your friends are?”
“I don’t know, and if I did –” He presses harder; her knees buckle under the weight of her pain and fear. Blood runs in ribbons over his fingers, following her pulse down her throat.
“Lying is a sin.”
“I guess you would know,” she whispers.
He chuckles lowly. “I speak only the truth. Honesty is why the world hates me.”
“I can think of a few other reasons.” The corner of his thin lips twitch; she thinks he might smirk. Instead, his nail rips down and she cries out, the skyline fading from red to silver to black –
Kairi snaps upright in bed, soaked in sweat and cold. Her blanket lies strewn on the floor, her window open, the ghost of wind slipping in and plastering night air to her damp skin. And there on the windowsill, strangely still in the breeze, lies a single black feather.
Patience.
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sephiroth/Kairi (yes, really)
Summary: Her fear fed his addiction. [for
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“The world is terribly uninformative,” he tells her, swiping his thumb along her cheek. Blood spreads from the shallow cut, smeared like watercolor over her tan skin. “If it weren’t for your friends, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“Well, you’ll have to keep moving down the line,” she says, hatred burning in her blood – he can feel it on his fingers. “I’m not telling you anything.”
“I’m losing patience.” His voice is always without emotion, without rising or falling or pausing or passion. It makes her heart clutch at the cage of her ribs and scream. “It ends with you.”
“It’s never gonna start.” The words come harder, crawling like cowards to the back of her throat farther and farther down. She forces them out, but they sound weak, like prisoners shoved into freedom, into a new world they no longer recognize.
“You’re very quaint.” He digs his nail into the scarlet strip and she whimpers despite herself. “That’s better. Now that we’re being honest, why don’t you tell me where your friends are?”
“I don’t know, and if I did –” He presses harder; her knees buckle under the weight of her pain and fear. Blood runs in ribbons over his fingers, following her pulse down her throat.
“Lying is a sin.”
“I guess you would know,” she whispers.
He chuckles lowly. “I speak only the truth. Honesty is why the world hates me.”
“I can think of a few other reasons.” The corner of his thin lips twitch; she thinks he might smirk. Instead, his nail rips down and she cries out, the skyline fading from red to silver to black –
Kairi snaps upright in bed, soaked in sweat and cold. Her blanket lies strewn on the floor, her window open, the ghost of wind slipping in and plastering night air to her damp skin. And there on the windowsill, strangely still in the breeze, lies a single black feather.
Patience.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-24 01:58 am (UTC)I really loved this, your writing is beautiful.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-24 02:07 am (UTC)Thank you very much!