Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Possession ❯ Vox ( Chapter 25 )

Disclaimer: Did I own them when I started this fic? No. Do I own them now? No.

AN: Yami no Bakura.

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Tick.

Tock.

Shut the fuck up!

Tick.

Tock.

I hate you, clock.

Tick.

Tock.

DAMMIT! This is your last warning!

There. Ryou will never notice that I threw his clock out the window.

...I'll get him a new one tomorrow. A better one. A quieter one.

Hmn...

My hikari snores like a chainsaw. How can someone that small make that much noise?

...hn... baka hikari... he's so pretty during the night...

All snuggled in silence and all wrapped up in darkness. It's long since midnight, now, and the air is clean and quiet and steeped in shadow and unknown terrors that shy from the light.

Cackle.

Me? Well... I'm... special.

Familiar, almost. Almost-almost-almost. Quiet and still like the emptiness of the desert sky.

Lifetimes ago - or am I yet alive? Dead?

Who lives? Who can live? What dares to stir the silence? Who dares to battle the darkness?

Beside me, he breathes. And Set does that boy snore!

Air ghosting from parted lips, soft and warm and moist and living, smelling of dew-drenched mornings and tasting of water and honey and light.

But so damn LOUD!

In, out, in, out, and his pale skin lifts and falls like living silk. Thick feathered ebony casts a sharp contrast to sleek curves of alabaster and eggshells, but he's alive. Breathing.

...and snoring.

He's curled up in the sheets, sound asleep, soft hair matted and tangled around him.

Pretty and pale like nothing and forever. Eternity would be bleak should he reign without me to balance him.

He won't, of course.

I won't let him.

Power beyond a man's dreams and visions?

He would choke in horror at the thought. Too sensitive, too shy, too meek, but he's not so foolish as he lets on. Not so delicate as he seems.

Hidden in the eyes of a hikari lies a blackness darker than any mortal man's soul.

Only pure innocence can so crave such insanity.

Fragile?

Anyone who thinks my hikari cannot fight has another thing coming. Like pain. I like pain. Hate violence he might, but I'm not running to his rescue all the time. Do I look like the pharaoh to you?

Say 'yes' and I steal your soul. Hee.

Which is not to say I leave him on his own.

I'll never leave him alone! Even if he tries to run, I'll hunt him down and drag him back to me and me alone!

But he won't run. He'll never run. He needs me too much to leave me for longer than even a moment.

He's cried before, way back before I decided I wanted him, back before I decided he was mine, and he tried to run from me then, but I caught him and held him and kept him and wrapped him up in the thick black darkness that so craved his light.

He was horrified when he realized how much the night wanted him - and it nearly drove him to tears when he realized just how desperately he yearned for the darkness in return.

He couldn't escape me then, and he can't escape me now.

He cried in my arms that night, cried and cried and cried and screamed and fought, but I didn't let him go. And when he wore himself out, when he couldn't cry any more, I scooped him up and tucked him into my bed, an offering to my own darkness, or was it something more?

I knew I wanted him then.

All soft and pretty and fragile like porcelain or clouds or glass, staring up at me with wide shining frightened eyes, soft pale hair tumbling over darkest crimson and black, looking so silly in his t-shirt and jeans, our ring shimmering bright and gold like a madman's fantasy around his neck. Soft little hitching gasps or sobs kept catching in his throat, and he buried his fingers into the sheets and wriggled away from me.

Away?

He'll never get away.

My own not-me. Mine.

I think I frightened him that night.

He was such a delicious little creature, so pale and so uncertain and so shy and confused and so helpless and so very, very beautiful - and I wanted to take and take and take and hold and pet and kiss and fuck and taste and explore and ravage - but I didn't.

Anticipation only makes the final bliss sweeter - and I did so want his sweetness.

So I only slept curled up around him, clinging tight enough that he couldn't get away, and it wasn't until morning that I realized he hadn't even tried.

And when I pulled him to me the next night, he didn't say a word.

It wasn't until someone touched him while he was out after school and wandering the sidewalks that he finally figured it out.

Apparently the blood splashed a good half-mile down the street.

He let me kiss him that night, kiss and pet and touch and taste and fondle, but no more than that. Never anything more than that, at least until I made him fall in love with me. But why force him? Broken light cannot pierce the darkness, and without the light, what am I but forever hidden in shadow?

It didn't take long, anyway. I knew it wouldn't, so why should I care? I had him soon enough, all soft and pleading in my arms, and when he stared at me through hungry eyes I thought maybe then that I might love him.

But until he was silent and still and asleep, I wasn't sure. How could I love him? What was love? Am I even capable of it?

...

He's so quiet, so very quiet, always silent and sneaky and sly. What fool would believe I would let him be otherwise? I have to keep him safe... I don't like people touching my things... don't they know that he's mine?

Now he laughs when I bring him pretty jewels and riches, now he only shakes his head when I come home soaked in blood, now he only forgets the world for the sake of me.

Who needs the world when I have him?

...or should I conquer it to give to him? Should I shred the skies and rend the land and drench the masses in madness?

Which would he love more? I'll do it all for him... for me... for the sake of our soul... I want to have everything, everything he hates and craves and needs me for, I want to see the people bow and beg and plead before me - before him, because he's mine forever and I'm never leaving him alone. Never.

The world is only a pretty plaything.

Why shouldn't he want to play?

I'll play for him - and I'll win.

He shifts restlessly and mumbles, so I tuck him against my chest and smooth his hair, and he stills and calms and is so so quiet in the blackness...

Beautiful. Beautiful and pale and still and silent and mine.

Beneath my fingertips, I can feel him breathing.

Precious little hikari.

Love you.

But don't you tell anyone. Ssh - keep you safe and quiet and away from all those others. They don't like you - they try and hide from your eyes.

Hikari.

Terrifying even though you're a pretty china doll.

Idiots.

Idiots!

They're all so damn scared of us that they forget just who we belong to! Heh - stupid stupid stupid little mortals! We're the same - they aren't so different as they look, our pretty little soulmates - and they have their secrets too.

My Ryou knows how to slaughter thousands. Malik can torment the souls of nations. And little Yugi Motou can bring about the end of the world.

They don't know.

They don't know!

After all - what harm could a simple question cause?

"Yami...?"

Drowsy-eyed hikari, blinking sleepy and happy in the wake of bliss, and if he asked me to slaughter the world, I would.

Even if the world is wrecked - wait a minute!

If the world is wrecked, there'll be nothing left to steal!

...oh well.

Hikari doesn't want the world anyway.

I'll get him something else.

*HROOOOONK*

...there's gotta be some kind of anti-snoring device around here SOMEWHERE, right?

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AN: ^_^

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