Whoo! Hiie, okay ^^;; This is my first thingie posted on fp.com. It's sorta-
inspired on an rpg I'm doing and is POV, even though I normally dislike
POV's, and sorry if it's annoys you too! ^^;; It's kinda the history of two
of my characters, Mehve and Faer'xi.
It starts while Mehve is in an infirmary, recovering from an injury a while after he and Faer'xi had been separated.
Plain and simple; it's yaoi, and disturbingly so ^^;; so, ya don't like, don't read. Don't sue me either, because I'm broke, and I'm a review whore, so please do so! Please tell me if you are totally, completely lost. O.o; this is just like a crash-test, and if it goes okay and I get some positive reviews and constructive criticism, I'll post more. ^^;;
Sankyuu and I hope you enjoy reading! ^____^ *hands out bags of popcorn*
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I rubbed my head wearily in the infirmary, staring up at the bleach-white ceiling, the nurses in their pinafores milling around me. I sensed their unease, scents of curiosity and sometimes hate absorbed by my heightened senses. Yet, my head throbbed, and I wanted so badly, just then, to drown everything out. Every small noise I could hear, every smell for metres around. I wanted it all to stop. I wanted the aching, twisting, feverish feeling in my chest to abate, and leave me alone.
Just -alone-. For once in my life.
I closed my eyes tightly, taking several deep breaths to calm my beating heart. Ever since.. ever since I was told.. that -he- was here. my pain returned tenfold and I found it hard to sleep. My half-naked body gave a shudder I tried valiantly to suppress. How long had it been? How would he react? I had just -left- that day.. taken away into some kind of half- freedom. Until the fateful morning I was purchased.
Would he kill me? Claim me again? I wondered morbidly, biting my lip. Cruel fate.. sometimes I wonder why I had not just died there, stayed bleeding on that road. I had been rescued, yet made a prisoner. My groggy mind began playing over the memory that it had so many times before, and I wrapped bare arms around myself and bowed my head, body shivering like in fever, yet it was only cold I could feel.
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It had been only, say, a month after they killed my Salonika. I had been wandering listlessly through the dark alleys between the stables. I liked it better where I thought nobody could see me. I was wrong.
They slithered out of the shadows like serpents, laughing and sniggering at my wide, red eyes, the tips on their cigarettes glowing ominously. I backed up, only to edge into the chest of two that had been coming up from behind. I felt my blood run cold, my eyes widening. I couldn't call for help, nobody ever comes to help one in need in these times, and especially for me.
I simply stared up with a lost expression, my parted lips childishly praying to any god that would listen that they'd let me go. That was, until, the first punch was thrown, easily connecting with my face and sending my light body to the floor.
I skidded, shocked by the metallic tang of my own blood on my lips and my mouth, left eye watering from the hit and pain shuddering in my teeth. I lay there, panting and seeing stars, until the five men encircled me. I didn't even try to brace myself as the kicking came, hearing sickening cracks as they broke ribs.
It did not take long before merciful unconsciousness spread over me, claiming me. My tensed, agonised muscles going slack, clenched fists slowly relaxing. The last feeling I knew was the consuming pain, blood draining from me. It all hurt, but it wasn't just my body.
It was my soul, my heart. If I had a heart left. They had killed that when they killed my love, and now they wanted the rest of the body. I thought bitterly that death was the only escape, as I had so many times before. Yet soon, even my death was taken from me.
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I awoke.
Yes, awoke. I was as shocked as you are. The first thing that came to me in consciousness was dull pain. And then, all too quickly, I lost it again, head falling back to the pillow.
This time, as my bleary eyes slitted open, there was a face in front of mine. A face with azure, purple hair that now was pooling over my bandaged chest. Yet it was the eyes that made my own go wide, to stare in such open shock. They were like mine, yet so much different. Not dark, but this amazing, fiery tone, and I could swear I could see flecks of gold around his consuming pupils, the effect hypnotic.
I must have stared at the man for several minutes before he broke the silence with laughter. Distracted, I noticed his teeth. Sharp and pointed, even more so that mine. I gave a startled cry and then soon wished I hadn't, pain shooting up from my smarting chest.
Concern flashed across his face for a moment, and I flinched instinctively as his hand came up, soothingly touching my cheek. His fingers were cold and thin, brushing over my cheekbones and eyelashes, though my eyes never seemed able to leave his, fixated as his hands wandered my pale skin.
I suddenly jolted back into realisation as he smirked slightly down at my fearful face, a finger brushing boldly over my parched lips. Prideful till the last, I bit down.
He yelped and withdrew, standing from where he had leant over the bed, revealing his height to be much more than my own. I edged away from him as he muttered curses beneath his breath, examining the injured finger. He looked up at me and the look that burned in his eyes made me want to disappear, and I jumped as he suddenly laughed.
He walked over with a fluid grace over to a small side table I had not noticed before, sliding open a drawer. I blanched as he retrieved a knife, holding it and turning back to me. He must have seen my fear because he laughed. "No, no." he tried to calm me, though all I could do was stare fixatedly at the light that glinted off the blade.
He leant over me again, his spare, cold hand coming around to the back of my neck, pulling me painfully up into a kneeling position on the bed. Though, not before I had given muffled cries at the sharp pains in my sides. I remembered now that save my undergarments I was naked; he had stripped me during sleep. I felt somehow violated, and backed up from him, though not daring to growl.
I jumped again as he sighed, and brought down the knife on himself, slicing easily across his palm. I watched in a mix of horror, surprise and fascination as he held out his hand for me, the blood already spreading across the cut.
I must have stared longer than I had realised, because he clicked his teeth against his tongue, a habit I later picked up, and drew closer to me. I looked up fearfully as the other hand cradled my neck again, burying itself in my hair. He pressed the bleeding cut to my slightly parted lips without warning, and it was all I could do to swallow in reflex.
I almost pulled away from him again in shock as the first trickle passed my lips. I had read in Salonika's books that the taste and the feeling of someone's blood was a gauge of the power they held. And this.. this was like a kick in the gut. All at once a mad hunger spread through me, and my own hands came up to latch onto his wrist, pressing my lips to the cut and feeding hungrily.
I felt empowered and sickened all at once. His blood sang to mine. It wanted me to kill and destroy, maim and murder. My stomach twisted and I shut my eyes tightly, not wanting to see the glint in his eyes.
I felt like it was all too soon when he withdrew his hand, though the greater part of me was relieved. My eyes opened to stare into his, terrified of how much I had lost control, feeding like a baby from the breast. He must be someone terrible and evil to have blood that did that to me.
Even then, he did not leave me alone for too long. The hand that had been supporting my neck slid up my jawbone, and he gave that same smirk to me, that wanted to make me disappear; sink into the ground. Two fingers wiped across my lips. I hadn't noticed then, but a small trickle of his blood had escaped my mouth. He touched the damp fingers to my lips, and I tentatively licked them, looking up at the taller man suspiciously.
I gave a startled cry as the fingers suddenly pushed past my lips, and I had to fight not to gag. His smirk widened and his brilliant eyes glimmered as I tightly shut my eyes, cursing the hot prickling in them. I dared not bite down because of my own fear, thinking of the grim power I had tasted from his blood.
They probed around my mouth, brushing over my teeth and then over my tongue. I tried not to cry out, tried not to let the dampness on my eyelashes escape down my cheeks. Suddenly they withdrew and I coughed weakly, head bowed. He chuckled maddeningly and wiped down his hand on his tight, black pants. It felt like being sick as I saw the silver smear of my own saliva.
"My name is Faer'xi. Fae, if you like." The stronger demon (as I had guessed) said, as if nothing had happened at all. I felt like sobbing then. Like breaking down and crying. I did not understand why, and did not look up as he turned from me, and with the same innate grace waltzed from the room, humming a tune that still haunts me now.
The door shut and locked, leaving me in the otherwise bare room. I threw myself down onto the bed and cried out loudly as pain rippled through my body. I cried then, tears escaping from my eyes to be joined by more and more. I didn't dare move anymore for fear of losing consciousness again, to leave myself at his mercy again.
My mind chanted his name. I swore pridefully to kill him though even now I thought the task impossible. I spat on the floor in an attempt to rid myself of his taste, though it was no good. As if I even had to tell you, I did not sleep that night.
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It starts while Mehve is in an infirmary, recovering from an injury a while after he and Faer'xi had been separated.
Plain and simple; it's yaoi, and disturbingly so ^^;; so, ya don't like, don't read. Don't sue me either, because I'm broke, and I'm a review whore, so please do so! Please tell me if you are totally, completely lost. O.o; this is just like a crash-test, and if it goes okay and I get some positive reviews and constructive criticism, I'll post more. ^^;;
Sankyuu and I hope you enjoy reading! ^____^ *hands out bags of popcorn*
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I rubbed my head wearily in the infirmary, staring up at the bleach-white ceiling, the nurses in their pinafores milling around me. I sensed their unease, scents of curiosity and sometimes hate absorbed by my heightened senses. Yet, my head throbbed, and I wanted so badly, just then, to drown everything out. Every small noise I could hear, every smell for metres around. I wanted it all to stop. I wanted the aching, twisting, feverish feeling in my chest to abate, and leave me alone.
Just -alone-. For once in my life.
I closed my eyes tightly, taking several deep breaths to calm my beating heart. Ever since.. ever since I was told.. that -he- was here. my pain returned tenfold and I found it hard to sleep. My half-naked body gave a shudder I tried valiantly to suppress. How long had it been? How would he react? I had just -left- that day.. taken away into some kind of half- freedom. Until the fateful morning I was purchased.
Would he kill me? Claim me again? I wondered morbidly, biting my lip. Cruel fate.. sometimes I wonder why I had not just died there, stayed bleeding on that road. I had been rescued, yet made a prisoner. My groggy mind began playing over the memory that it had so many times before, and I wrapped bare arms around myself and bowed my head, body shivering like in fever, yet it was only cold I could feel.
______
It had been only, say, a month after they killed my Salonika. I had been wandering listlessly through the dark alleys between the stables. I liked it better where I thought nobody could see me. I was wrong.
They slithered out of the shadows like serpents, laughing and sniggering at my wide, red eyes, the tips on their cigarettes glowing ominously. I backed up, only to edge into the chest of two that had been coming up from behind. I felt my blood run cold, my eyes widening. I couldn't call for help, nobody ever comes to help one in need in these times, and especially for me.
I simply stared up with a lost expression, my parted lips childishly praying to any god that would listen that they'd let me go. That was, until, the first punch was thrown, easily connecting with my face and sending my light body to the floor.
I skidded, shocked by the metallic tang of my own blood on my lips and my mouth, left eye watering from the hit and pain shuddering in my teeth. I lay there, panting and seeing stars, until the five men encircled me. I didn't even try to brace myself as the kicking came, hearing sickening cracks as they broke ribs.
It did not take long before merciful unconsciousness spread over me, claiming me. My tensed, agonised muscles going slack, clenched fists slowly relaxing. The last feeling I knew was the consuming pain, blood draining from me. It all hurt, but it wasn't just my body.
It was my soul, my heart. If I had a heart left. They had killed that when they killed my love, and now they wanted the rest of the body. I thought bitterly that death was the only escape, as I had so many times before. Yet soon, even my death was taken from me.
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I awoke.
Yes, awoke. I was as shocked as you are. The first thing that came to me in consciousness was dull pain. And then, all too quickly, I lost it again, head falling back to the pillow.
This time, as my bleary eyes slitted open, there was a face in front of mine. A face with azure, purple hair that now was pooling over my bandaged chest. Yet it was the eyes that made my own go wide, to stare in such open shock. They were like mine, yet so much different. Not dark, but this amazing, fiery tone, and I could swear I could see flecks of gold around his consuming pupils, the effect hypnotic.
I must have stared at the man for several minutes before he broke the silence with laughter. Distracted, I noticed his teeth. Sharp and pointed, even more so that mine. I gave a startled cry and then soon wished I hadn't, pain shooting up from my smarting chest.
Concern flashed across his face for a moment, and I flinched instinctively as his hand came up, soothingly touching my cheek. His fingers were cold and thin, brushing over my cheekbones and eyelashes, though my eyes never seemed able to leave his, fixated as his hands wandered my pale skin.
I suddenly jolted back into realisation as he smirked slightly down at my fearful face, a finger brushing boldly over my parched lips. Prideful till the last, I bit down.
He yelped and withdrew, standing from where he had leant over the bed, revealing his height to be much more than my own. I edged away from him as he muttered curses beneath his breath, examining the injured finger. He looked up at me and the look that burned in his eyes made me want to disappear, and I jumped as he suddenly laughed.
He walked over with a fluid grace over to a small side table I had not noticed before, sliding open a drawer. I blanched as he retrieved a knife, holding it and turning back to me. He must have seen my fear because he laughed. "No, no." he tried to calm me, though all I could do was stare fixatedly at the light that glinted off the blade.
He leant over me again, his spare, cold hand coming around to the back of my neck, pulling me painfully up into a kneeling position on the bed. Though, not before I had given muffled cries at the sharp pains in my sides. I remembered now that save my undergarments I was naked; he had stripped me during sleep. I felt somehow violated, and backed up from him, though not daring to growl.
I jumped again as he sighed, and brought down the knife on himself, slicing easily across his palm. I watched in a mix of horror, surprise and fascination as he held out his hand for me, the blood already spreading across the cut.
I must have stared longer than I had realised, because he clicked his teeth against his tongue, a habit I later picked up, and drew closer to me. I looked up fearfully as the other hand cradled my neck again, burying itself in my hair. He pressed the bleeding cut to my slightly parted lips without warning, and it was all I could do to swallow in reflex.
I almost pulled away from him again in shock as the first trickle passed my lips. I had read in Salonika's books that the taste and the feeling of someone's blood was a gauge of the power they held. And this.. this was like a kick in the gut. All at once a mad hunger spread through me, and my own hands came up to latch onto his wrist, pressing my lips to the cut and feeding hungrily.
I felt empowered and sickened all at once. His blood sang to mine. It wanted me to kill and destroy, maim and murder. My stomach twisted and I shut my eyes tightly, not wanting to see the glint in his eyes.
I felt like it was all too soon when he withdrew his hand, though the greater part of me was relieved. My eyes opened to stare into his, terrified of how much I had lost control, feeding like a baby from the breast. He must be someone terrible and evil to have blood that did that to me.
Even then, he did not leave me alone for too long. The hand that had been supporting my neck slid up my jawbone, and he gave that same smirk to me, that wanted to make me disappear; sink into the ground. Two fingers wiped across my lips. I hadn't noticed then, but a small trickle of his blood had escaped my mouth. He touched the damp fingers to my lips, and I tentatively licked them, looking up at the taller man suspiciously.
I gave a startled cry as the fingers suddenly pushed past my lips, and I had to fight not to gag. His smirk widened and his brilliant eyes glimmered as I tightly shut my eyes, cursing the hot prickling in them. I dared not bite down because of my own fear, thinking of the grim power I had tasted from his blood.
They probed around my mouth, brushing over my teeth and then over my tongue. I tried not to cry out, tried not to let the dampness on my eyelashes escape down my cheeks. Suddenly they withdrew and I coughed weakly, head bowed. He chuckled maddeningly and wiped down his hand on his tight, black pants. It felt like being sick as I saw the silver smear of my own saliva.
"My name is Faer'xi. Fae, if you like." The stronger demon (as I had guessed) said, as if nothing had happened at all. I felt like sobbing then. Like breaking down and crying. I did not understand why, and did not look up as he turned from me, and with the same innate grace waltzed from the room, humming a tune that still haunts me now.
The door shut and locked, leaving me in the otherwise bare room. I threw myself down onto the bed and cried out loudly as pain rippled through my body. I cried then, tears escaping from my eyes to be joined by more and more. I didn't dare move anymore for fear of losing consciousness again, to leave myself at his mercy again.
My mind chanted his name. I swore pridefully to kill him though even now I thought the task impossible. I spat on the floor in an attempt to rid myself of his taste, though it was no good. As if I even had to tell you, I did not sleep that night.
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