Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Weiss Kreuz Drabbles ❯ Drabble: Color ( Chapter 1 )

AN: These are drabbles that were spurred by the wk100 challenge community on Livejournal. Each new challenge will be posted as a new chapter.

 

 

 

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Title: Heat

Characters/Pairing: Schuldig/Aya

 

Life. Passion. Lust. Obsession. All hot words defined in red.

 

No surprise that the color suited him. Fire often slept beneath the ice. Someone just needed to wake it.

 

Schuldig plucked a rose, crushed petals and broken stem in his palm and pressed the curve of his hand to that perfect, pale face, caressed silk with velvet, brushed a finger over the razorblade cheekbone, before turning away and leaving the shop to its deathly silence.

 

He brought his hand to his mouth, lapped the red beading on his palm. He would have to remember to keep watch for the thorns.

 

 

 

 

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Title: Shades of Memory

Characters/Pairing: Yoji, Asuka

 

He sometimes dreams in blue. Not the ocean shade, but the shade of the hair he used to drown himself in every night.

 

It is worse these days. The blue doesn't stay to dreams; it escapes the night world, invades the daytime sanctuary, slipping beneath the window shade as he wakes, late for his shift. Blue shadows stretching out to touch him with a caress as soft as those given by small hands in small hours.

 

He evades them, tumbles downstairs to the shop, where he's greeted with a sighing chorus of memory-shaded forget-me-nots and the cathedral ring of bluebells.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Title: Absence of Light

Characters/Pairing: Farfarello/Birman

 

We have a deal, in which we fool ourselves: I leave off the knife sheaths; she leaves locks unclasped on the blackest of nights.

 

She is usually in bed when I come, asleep beneath midnight hued sheets.

 

I wake her with restrained touches on her smooth thighs, her stomach, her breasts. She's not cold, Kritiker rumours be damned, but feverish under my touch.

 

Her eyes are silvered-black in the darkness; I let myself fall into them as I sink into her, pulled closer by slim arms.

 

The absence of light is not cold, but searing hot.

 

And smooth as silk.