InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Drabbles and Babbles ❯ Look but Don't Touch ( Chapter 14 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
A/N: We all know how Jaken feels about Sesshomaru, don't we?
He had to have hope. Otherwise he couldn't have endured the centuries of abuse, of disregard. It is a difficult thing to be little more than worthless to the one that you desire with all your soul, your love cast aside like a useless and soiled garment.
Hope had to have dreams to live, and Jaken had dreams. His lord might ignore the breathless sighs, but he couldn't be completely ignorant of their reason. Jaken had hope in that his lord hadn't cut him down for his rather too obvious feelings, but he also knew that there was a line he dared not cross. The first time he tried to lay a single green finger on that perfect pale flesh, he would be struck down most violently.
And not resurrected.
He could still watch and dream and sigh over it though. When the lord went to bathe, Jaken dared to slip away after Rin was asleep. He would stare in rapture as cold moonlight glittered on alabaster skin, taut muscles rippling with each movement. The hair like spun silk, eyes of amber flames. Sheer perfection come to life and given form.
How he longed to be allowed to lay his unworthy lips against such flesh, hear his lord sigh for the pleasure his retainer burned to give him. Jaken dreamed of the cool touch of those fingers on the back of his head and of being allowed to rest his face against a silk clad thigh.
But it would be death to even try, so Jaken had to be content with craving death.
Does not a moth crave the flame? Does it know that in that instant of fulfillment, of wish granted, it will be charred to ash and nothingness?
Jaken only hoped to be as lucky as the moth.
He had to have hope. Otherwise he couldn't have endured the centuries of abuse, of disregard. It is a difficult thing to be little more than worthless to the one that you desire with all your soul, your love cast aside like a useless and soiled garment.
Hope had to have dreams to live, and Jaken had dreams. His lord might ignore the breathless sighs, but he couldn't be completely ignorant of their reason. Jaken had hope in that his lord hadn't cut him down for his rather too obvious feelings, but he also knew that there was a line he dared not cross. The first time he tried to lay a single green finger on that perfect pale flesh, he would be struck down most violently.
And not resurrected.
He could still watch and dream and sigh over it though. When the lord went to bathe, Jaken dared to slip away after Rin was asleep. He would stare in rapture as cold moonlight glittered on alabaster skin, taut muscles rippling with each movement. The hair like spun silk, eyes of amber flames. Sheer perfection come to life and given form.
How he longed to be allowed to lay his unworthy lips against such flesh, hear his lord sigh for the pleasure his retainer burned to give him. Jaken dreamed of the cool touch of those fingers on the back of his head and of being allowed to rest his face against a silk clad thigh.
But it would be death to even try, so Jaken had to be content with craving death.
Does not a moth crave the flame? Does it know that in that instant of fulfillment, of wish granted, it will be charred to ash and nothingness?
Jaken only hoped to be as lucky as the moth.