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 Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 6:19 am
How did it bleed? There was no heart beating anymore, so there should be no way blood could flow, yet here it was just trickling out --slowly, yes, but still trickling. And it shouldn't be trickling because there was no reason for trickling. The observation now wanted to be solved...but he wouldn't. Why cut the zombie open if it wouldn't feel anything?
Call him? people didn't talk to Zanis, and if they didn't talk to someone that meant that they didn't need to call him anything. "...Mostly they don't," he said calmly, the last few traces of blood disappearing off the knife blade. It tasted a little funny, but not to different from regular blood. Maybe a hint of...formaldehyde or something?
"But my name is Zanis." Whywhywhy did he just say that? Really. This was going far beyond the limits of any doctor-victim relationship he'd ever had. For one, he'd never given his name out before. Another, he'd never wanted to know the experiment's name. Next thing he knew, he'd start using the wrong pronouns too, using 'he' instead of 'it'.
Making a small huffing noise --most deeply perturbed-- he turned again and stalked back to the cabinets. He should move the table closer from the middle of the room. Then he wuldn't have to go back and forth so much. Sticking the knife in the wall --easy enough, it was plenty sharp-- he began rummaging through one of the cabinets.
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 10:44 am
"..Zanis." The zombie slowly repeated after the doctor in his blank sort of quiet voice, the word --name-- seemingly echoing hollowly inside the room. The bloodless colourless white eyes --the pinprick dark pupils never wavering-- watched with a flicker-something sort of morbid sort of fascination --if he could feel, but it was.. interesting-- as the last tracesdrops of his blood disappeared, leaving no hint that the blade was once embedded in his stomach.
Interesting. Quite, quite interesting. Noone had ever lickedtasted his blood before. Being a zombie tended to make people squeamish or.. or just strange. But with this guy.. Pale bluish frozen fingers twitched again inadvertently as the doctor turned and walked towards the cabinets once more.
..But with this guy, it didn't. Which could just also mean that Zanisdoctorpersonthing just didn't care, but.. but it was somehow kind of different. Not that he wasn't strange, coming straight in here and immediately stabbing a knife through him, but.. but there was just something differently interesting about this persondoctorthing than.. than just watching other people, other experiments and assistants and occasional important people.
"......" Butter sighed wordlessly, eyes closing and opening softly, almost mechanical in its regularity as he stared blankly into nowhere, no feature in this room really worthy of any sort of close observation. Was this really this doctor's office? Most people would.. he didn't know, what did people put in offices, apart from a place to work in? Definitely not like this.
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 4:35 pm
Butter. What kind of name was Butter? Wasn't it, like, some sort of food? Zanis was pretty sure it was, though he honestly couldn't remember what kind. If it wasn't of the small-fast-animals-that-are-fun-to-hunt variety, Zanis didn't bother with names of food. If it was put in front of him, he ate it, and why bother with what it was called?
But still..."Butter," the snake whispered under his breath, rolling the word on his tongue. Hmm...that sounded...nice, almost. Funny, he'd never thought of a name as nice before, not even Kiba's. But Butter...Butter had a nice sound, gliding across his tongue in a decidedly pleasant way. And it was easy to say, too, just two simple, short, nice syllables.
Besides...it was a food.
Successful in his search, Zanis moved back to the table, a spool of embroidery thread --the only kind he could find-- in his hands, along with a wickedsharp needle. He was not going to have an experiment bleeding all over his floor. And since he couldn't just kill the thing --already dead, can't kill already dead things-- he might as well just patch the hole back up already and get on with...whatever he was going to do when Butter left.
Because Butter would leave. Everyone left. Not that Zanis minded, it just made the chase more fun. But Zanis had no use for a zombie --Butter, such a nice name...-- and if he couldn't stab it, burn it, freeze it, or break bones and have a little fun, then Butter might as well just walk right out of here, because Zanis wouldn't do anything. There was nothing to do.
He wasn't walking, though, until after that hole in his stomach was sewn up. Because Zanis did not feel like cleaning floors right now, and however sluggishly the blood was moving, it was still flowing.
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 8:22 pm
His name had a decidedly cruel sort of edge to it, if he thought about it.
Butter. Warm gooey flowly melty yellow thing. Healthy, almost to the point of being greasy, brightbrightbright yellow and warm. Whoever named him was liked irony, or.. or at least word play. Because he wasn't anything like what normal butter was. He was cold blue frozen dead, not warm not yellow not bright not anything at all.
Besides, giving a name like that to someone --even to an experiment-- who didn't eat, couldn't eat and didn't even remember eating food at all --maybebutmaybejustalittlemaybe?-- was just plain bordering on stupid. That, or sadistic, but Butter did not much place the people here --well, apart from some people-- in that list. He just considered the entire business one big messy thing, and a bad taste at that.
He would have complained, if he only remembered who it was, or when he got that name. Because he was sure it wasn't his real name, whatever it was. People just didn't name their children after food. If he had any parents at all. If he remembered anything. If.. If..
But sometimes he could, just maybe. Could remember what it was like to.. to live. Albeit vaguely. Just sort of a warm sensememorything, much like what he 'felt' when other people --normal notdead people-- touched him, except those kind hurt so he didn't want to let people touch him ever. He didn't like warmth because it burned. And memories burned, so he didn't like them, even though sometimes, sometimes maybe he wanted to remember, just a little. But mostly he didn't.
His eyes sharply slid back into focus to rest on the other --Zanis. He should remember that; it was a nice sort of name, one he wouldn't have minded having-- before sliding down to stare at the thread and needles. It took him a moment for it to register--he was going to stitch him up. That was new. Bloodless lips opened slightly, a twitch in the corner of the mouth. "..Well. At least it's not staples." Normally, they couldn’t be bothered exactly to take the trouble of stitching properly. Not that he really cared, since one was much the same as the other, function being to hold his flesh together until it healed over smoothcolddead like before, but.. but it tended to rust.
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Posted: Thu Oct 26, 2006 3:06 am
Butter...
Whoever named the zombie after a food, Zanis congradulated him/her/it. That little detail made the name stick and linger in his head, rolling around and around in happy little waves of...of happy stuff, sticking in his head more than any other experiment's name ever had. If he had ever learned another experiment's name, which he hadn't. But somehow even normal people's names couldn't triumph over Butter. It sounded...yummy. And yummy name, it was, and the fact that it was on a decidedly un-yummy zombie character only made it that much more appealing.
The dark snake gave a crooked little grin, thunking the spool of thread on the edge of the table and perching beside it. "Staples simply aren't as fun as thread is." Because staples were so quick, just a zipwhamdone, whereas with a needle and thread, you could drag it out for sooooo long to the general discomfort of the experimentassisstantpersonthing. Compared to most things he did, it was just a mild annoyance, not really to painful at all --compared to what he normally did-- but it was fun to let whoever on the table relax a little under the needle and thread and them do something really nasty.
The screams were so much louder. And more fun.
Not that he could do something fun like that with a zombie. But the plain and simple fact was he would not let somebody wander around his office all bloody and dripping. Only he was allowed to do that. Preferably with someone else's blood doing the dripping...
Humming something almost haunting, he unwound a strand of the embroidery thread, clipping it with his teeth when he judged it to be about the right length. The stuff would probably break --embroidery thread simply wasn't as thick as most surgery theads-- but it was the only stuff he could find, and he could always just reinforce it a bunch of times or something.
He leaned over, carefully threading the needle while he gauged the wound. Wasn't really as bad as he thought at first --shame really, that was, he liked sticking people...er, stitching people up-- but it was plenty deep. Probably went all the way through, since he did remember slamming it through the tabletop. Oh well, more stickingstitching fun! He reached over, the room cold enough that his hands weren't too terribly warm, and made the first quick stitch, the needle going through the dead skin as easily as through...well, as through Butter. Heh.
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Posted: Thu Oct 26, 2006 4:44 am
It didn’t matter, Kiba decided. Whether or not he loved Yamagawa –he kind of hoped it was the latter, then it wouldn’t hurt so much ifwhen Yamagawa left—he definitely like the tuchfeeltaste f the redhead, and he likedlovedneededwanted the feelings the other invoked. Even if he didn’t love him, it was a good set of feelings, nicewarmsafelovely, and he didn’t want to ever never ever have them stop, even if it meant handcuffing himself to the redhead or something stupid like that. Because if he was near Yamagawa, if he felt s goodnicewarm when Yamagawa was around, then Kiba didn’t want to ever ever ever let him go, not ever not for anything or anyone evereverever. These feelings Yamagawa made rise up in his throat were good, goodgoodgood and it would hurt sososoalot if they stopped, so he couldn’t let them.
Carefully, reluctantly, his hand over Yamagawa’s heart slackened its grip on the other’s shirt, trailing downward almost curiously across the dips and planes of the other’s abdomen. It had been reallyreallyreally such a long time since he’d let himself get this close to another person, another male, that there was a slight tinge of fascinated wonder in his touch as his fingers moved over muscle and form he had almost forgotten. He didn’t care about himself enough to look in the mirror, and the vaguely unfamiliar textures were more than alluring. And he…
Was it selfish to want more? More touch, more feeling, more warmth, more Yamagawa? Kiba couldn’t ever never remember wanting someone as much as he wanted Yamagawa, wanting them with his whole bodybeingheartsoulmindeverything. He’d wanted people before, but never like this, never this…this…this passionately. It wasn’t a word he would normally have attributed to himself, but this wasn’t any sort of normal circumstances, was it? Because…because it still felt so colddarksharplonely around the edges even though there was so much warmth in the middle and everything was just waiting for this to stop, for Yamagawa to go –no matter how much he didn’t want to believe it would happen—and then the darkness would rushswoop back in again and devour all the prettyprettywarmsafeglowyember warmth inside of him and he couldn’t let that happen.
So…so Yamagawa had to stay, Kiba had to make him stay, because Kiba knew he wouldn’tcouldn’t survive if he was left all alone again, if the darkness ate the glowyember warmth. And…and if Yamagawa left there’d be no one to stop him from taking the glass to his wrist so he had to keep Yamagawa here because he was suddenly so veryveryverymuch afraid of not existing and he didn’t want to stop livingbreathingfeeling if it meant that there were good feelings like this that could banish the colddark feelings so he couldn’t stop being because if he did he wouldn’t ever never feel the good feelings again and that would be baaad…
Kiba let himself just ooze up against Yamagawa, his natural bonelessness and the fact that his bones had turned to liquid making it easy to conform his body against Yamagawa’s, curve his form into the shape it needed to fit perfectlyabsolutely against Yamagawa’s. If he kept touching Yamagawa, kept kissingholdingbreathing Yamagawa…then Yamagawa couldn’t go, and…and it would be okay, right? Because…then…then the emberwarmth would still be there and he’d still be warm and not coldemptydarkscaredlonely so he just had to keep touching…
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Posted: Thu Oct 26, 2006 11:04 am
Even though it rusted over and left darkred puncture stains on his skin like a snake bite, Butter preferred staples most of the time. Sure, it rusted, and it was kind of amusing in a decidedly watered down sort of way --definitely what other people wouldn't call amusing, but to Butter it was-- when he saw how other peoplepersonthings reacted to it, deep red gashescuts held merely by a few rough staples-- and not those stationery ones either; they were usually heavy, thick spikes driving in an inch inside his skin.
Besides, it was waywayway better than.. than letting people touch him. Touch him, with their stupid body heat and their warmth burning leaving welts and blisters and angry red marks like burns across his skin which took hours, days, weeks of painicefussingoverpain to heal over and return back to.. to being dead. Stupid people and touching him and stupid life that buuuurned..!
So it should have been forgiven when the zombie reacted in a decidedly un-zombie like way when the other's hand --cooler but still warmwarmwarmhotburning-- touched him.
He gasped.
Well, it was more like a gaspy-hissing thing that he tried to hold back but couldn't. He would have, because Butter didn't like pain but he hated --how could he hate? Hate was emotion and emotionsfeelings burned and he ha.. didn't like warmth-- showing pain even more and.. and he didn't quite maybenot want to let Zanispersondoctor know that he hated warmthpainburning, because.. because it might not be such a good idea. But it had been a long long time since his last burnmarkscarwarmththing that.. that it almost came as a burning molten sort of whiplash across his skin, leaving faint redpink marking outlining the limb on the pale frozendead skin.
Biting down on the inside of his lip --can'tshowanypainburningpaintohim-- Butter forced his selfbodyfacefeatures to be smoothed over once more, back to being nothing and dead and cold and not feeling, his bloodless colourless eyes sharply focused on Zanis --and Zanis' hands-- and trying sosososo hard to not feel anything but still with aftermaths of the painhurtthing swayingflickering through over his face.
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Posted: Thu Oct 26, 2006 7:14 pm
...
...Oh?
Gold eyes stared down in curious fascination, the needle hovering midair, hand having paused at the gasphisspainsoundthing. He could have sworn zombies didn't feel pain, but that sound...he knew that sound! The sound of someone in pain but trying not to let anyone know. Such a prettyprettydeliciousyummy sound, considering he hadn't expected any sound from the zombie, beyond those crass remarks that really were a bit annoying.
A delighted titter slipped up his throat, eyes watching the bright redpink marks flare up on the palepalepaledead skin. It...so it was heat. Heat was what made Butter react. Zanis wasn't particularly find of heat himself --stabbing things and breaking bones usually produced much nicer results-- but heat...Zanis would probably get some very hot things if he wanted too.
"Ne, Bu~tter...did that huuuurt?" He shot a leering sort of grin at the other, knowing full well there was some measure of pain. People didn't just hiss through their teeth for no reason at all. Still watching the zombie's face, he dropped the needle, letting it settle on Butter's abs, and just held his hand open over the other's skin.
How had he just now noticed how cold the zombie's skin? Even if Zanis's own skin had cooled a little, he could easily see how just his own body temperature would cause discomfort --and apparently he was just hot enough to redden the zombie's skin. Meaning to that if he got something really hot he would cause...well, a lot more discomfort an pain to the creature. Hmm...maybe the zombie would be more fun than he had initially thought.
And when he was finished with Butter, he could always stick his hands in a bucket of ice water an stitch him up or something. He wasn't as temperature dependant like most of his family.
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Posted: Fri Oct 27, 2006 1:05 am
"Ne, Bu~tter...did that huuuurt?
No, he wanted to say, he really did, because now Zanis knew, now he knew what Butter hated, what Butter couldn't stand, what Butter felt how he felt what hurt and he had that creep shivery coldfun lookgleam in his eyes which was baaaad because.. because Butter knew that look. That look full of smilinghappyhurtingness and hours and hours of painhurtingburn. That, and.. and even though he knew that the doctor knew that he knew Zanis had noticed, Butter should.. yes, he should lie. It didn't hurt. Of course it didn't hurt. It was just warm, that's all. It didn't hurt.
Besides, Butter was pretty good at lying with a straight face. He should have learnt to play poker.
"N--" Itdoesn'thurtitdoesn'thurtitdoesn'thuuurt-- The rest of what the zombie was going to say died in a whimper-gasp in the back of his throat and Butter couldn't keep the flickerflash of pain out of his eyes, his lips tightly shut and impassiveblankpained but shouldersarms almost shaking with the effort of it. That touch left another redpink --already swelling rawtende flesh-- mark on the deadcold skin, more prominent than the last.
Leather binds creaked softly in protest as the zombie dropped his gaze away from the other male, lips still set stubbornly, teeth gritted eyes only eyes showing painpainhurtinburnpain--
"..No."
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Posted: Fri Oct 27, 2006 1:33 am
It was curious, how.. how gentle he was being with this, how carefulcarefulcareful his touches were to the nape of Kiba's neck --awayaway from the bruiseshurtinghurthehurtKiba-- and around the other' male's waist where he could feel Kiba's body heat --strangely-- through even the thick layer of the gown that they both wore but it seemed no obstacle because it still burned and shot up brightglowy firework-like sparkles up his fingersarms up his arm through straight into his head and explode inside the back of his eyes. Yamagawa wanted more, but.. but he only wanted them if Kiba was willing to.. to let him. Even though he wantedneeded it so much sooooo much to the point of being hurting, it was.. the touches flitting downup tracingpressing softlycarefully on the small of Kiba's back was, despite that, still gentle.
Why? It was stupid, because Kiba couldn’t, people couldn't just shatter into thousand million billion pieces of fine glass, unless it was like.. a dream, a figment of his imagination --even though Kiba tastedsmeltfelt in a way that he could never, ever have imagined-- and this almost almost seemed like a dream, maybe, maybe.. maybepleasenoletitbereal...!
Because Yamagawa was scared. He always hurt Kiba, always always trying to dig deeper probinghurtingfreezing Kiba and trying to taketake everything anything whatever he wanted whatever he thought he wanted, and even though both the times that he had actually, actually hurt Kiba --that he was vaguely conscious of-- it had been his otherself, othervoice, it was still him. It was still him, still Yamagawa and he knew he was hurting Kiba, he knew what he did what he said what.. what he was hurt Kiba, like the blankness and the coldness and the creepingcreeping seeping darknessthing but he couldn’t stop it.
He couldn't stop it, stop himself from hurting Kiba-- even though he screamedyelledcriedneededwanted them to stoop. And.. and even though he managed --sososososohardcan'tdon'twanttohuuurt-- to get back, back to being.. being not hurting but still hurting Kiba because Yamagawa kept going away even though he told Kiba, he promised that he wouldn’t, ever, wouldn't ever live Kiba alone ever, wouldn’t ever leave him alone ever. He could still see the hurthurting that he had made on Kiba, could still see the cracks like scars the gaping wounds, the darkness colddevouring at the edge of his vision inside Kiba inside himself that same kind of darkness, the same fear.
He could feel it in the other's kiss, the other's touches flittyfluttery on over his heartcheststomachabsskin and feeling the lappinglicking feardarkness so close so.. so much sameness so close was both good and.. and bad at the same time but it was mostly gooood because it was Kiba..
He wanted this to go on, Yamagawa knew this, albeit vaguely, as he arched up against the touches down his stomach, tongue flickeringwrapping around Kiba's as he half-desperately, half-scaredly pulled the green haired male closer. He wanted this to go on for ever and everever..
..He just wasn't sure if.. if he could stop himself from hurting Kiba.
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Posted: Fri Oct 27, 2006 3:53 pm
A giggle bubbled up in Zanis's throat as Butter tried so very hard not to react to his second touch. But he did, he did! He made a gaspwhimpersoundthing and it was beautifulpainpainhurting and it was wonderful! And the pinkredmarkdarkcolor spot was soooooo beautiful, sososo beautiful. And the skin was so palepaleprettypale that the color was even more vibrantbrightbeautifulredpink!
"Liiiiiiiiiar!" It hurt, it did, he could tell! Because Butter's eyes were flashing all hurtingfull and it was such a pretty sight, even more so because it was in Butter's eyes and he liked the name Butter and somehow that logic made sense in his head. But he hadn't been expecting it, only it was here, and it was a wonderfulstupendouslovelyprettypretty surprise! And if there was one thing Zanis loved, it was a surprise. Especially one that meant he could have fun with an experiment.
Not only that, but it gave him an excuse to just hurt something. He'd been wanting so very much to hurt something since he visited Kiba's office --theboywouldpay-- and he had been so disappointed when he had found out he had gotten a zombie instead of some other stupidolduseless experiment because he had thought he wouldn't have any fun or get to vent with a zombie, but now he culd because Butter felt pain! He did, he did and it was through heat and it would be fuuuun!
"And I thought we weren't going to have any fun together," he said happily, jumping off the edge of the table like a child excited for Christmas. Heat...hmm, what did he have that was hot? Like said before, he didn't usually like using heat. He'd found that more experiments reacted biggerbetterbrighter if the pain was sharp and instantaneous, instead of a slow blistering feeling. But he didn't mind using it if it was the only thing...
Now, let's see what he had...
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Posted: Fri Oct 27, 2006 4:36 pm
The zombie --leather creaking again, digging into his wrists as the hands palepaledeadshaking balled into fists shakinghurting-- didn't make any sort of reply to the comment, instead colourless eyes darkdarkflashingangryhurting focusing sharply on the other male's facehandsbodywarmthhurtingness. The gleeful expression was more than vaguely disconcerting to Butter, and he couldn't keep the flickerflashglimmer of slight --veryvery slight-- fear out of those deadblank eyes, letting it seep out into the surface for a nanosecond.
He couldn’t help it; that.. that touch had hurt. Butter hated.. he didn't really really really didn't like hurting. There wasn't many things he could possibly not like, with him being.. not living and all, but.. but Butter knew that he didn't like this because.. because this was the only kind of feeling he knew and it hurt. Lifeburningtouches hurt and.. and even though this mandoctorZanisthing was.. was not as living --Butter couldn’t really explain it; it was just the glowywarmthing that he could feel on others that he couldn't notreally on Zanis-- it was still living and that meant that Zanis was warm and being warm was baaad.
Butter slackened his jaw slightly to draw in a shaky breath-- why? He didn't need to breathe to.. to exist, but it had gotten to be a habit. He needed to hear it, hear the dry sound as the air was sucked in uselessly into his dead lungs, needed to feel his heart beat, however slow and.. and unreal it sounded.
"Oh, yay." The voice was deadblank --at least that was still intact-- and just as not-feeling as before, before the burningpain started, and Butter looked listlessly warily down at the still tinglyraw imprint of the man's hand --burnburnburnpain!-- on his stomach, half his attention on the feeling of tinglyburningstrangeness, and the other half on the doctorpersonZanisthing somewhere behindsomewhere. He..
Butter shivered.
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Posted: Fri Oct 27, 2006 5:32 pm
It was so gentle.
Kiba liked it. Really, really liked it. He’d never been touched so gently before, and it was nice. He wasn’t sure if Yamagawa was doing it without meaning to or if he was just trying not to break Kiba again, but whatever the reason, it was soft and he liked it. Touches had never been soft before, never like this. His mothers hands ha been soft, but her touch was always bitter and harsh. Zanis…well, Zanis had never been soft. And his father had always felt so brittle. And any other touch had always been greedydemandingwantinggripping. But Yamagawa was being gentlesoftwarm, and it was foreign to the point of being strange, but he liked it.
But…but the liking brought up a whole plethora of other feelings. It felt so good, the not hurting, the softgentlelight touches, but…but somehow it felt wrong. The…the kissing was nice, it felt goodwarmright somehow, like it was okaygoodperfect to be kissing Yamagawa, but there was…there was some missing element in the touches that he couldn’t figure out but kindofmaybe wanted back. Even though he didn’t know what it was he wanted back, he did. Something…something in the softgentleness was lacking, something that had always been there but wasn’t, and somewhere deepdeepdown, in a part of himself that wasn’t brightwarmglowy or darkcoldlonely, he wanted the missing something back, wanted to feel the whatever feeling he couldn’t quite name, because it was missing and he…he kindofmaybe missed it.
Shuddering happily, he made a softalmostmoanything, letting his tongue succumb under Yamagawa’s. It felt so good, despite the missing whatever-it-was, and even though he could almost taste the need to have the missing whatever, it was still okay, because it was Yamagawa an Yamagawa was making it feel so freaking warmgoodperfect that it was okay if he didn’t have the missing thing. A little. Maybe. He’d figure out later what needed to be added, because for now it was sortofkindof fine that it wasn’t there.
The hand still in Yamagawa’s hair tightened slightly, tugging the strands a smidge at the rush of goodwarmthglowyembers, and even if it didn’t banish the darkness completely it was still so much, so much he hadn’t felt in so veryveryvery long so he needed to grip something and stay anchored or else he’d just get swept away in the tidal wave of feelings. His other hand, satisfied a little, went right back to gripping Yamagawa’s shirt, clutching the cloth hard enough that his knuckles were white. It was so good…but he had to hang on tighttighttighter so Yamagawa wouldn’t ever leave and just let Kiba float aimlessly on the feelings.
Because he was getting scared, almost, scared that this was too good to be true and that Yamagawa would get tired of him and just go, so he hadtoneededto hang on as tight as he possibly could so Yamagawa just couldn’t go. Even…even if Yamagawa thought he was stupiddesperateclingy, that was fine, so long as he stayed. Yamagawa could even go back to being all cold or dark and Kiba wouldn’t mind if Yamagawa just never left him alone never ever so he’d hang on foreverandeverandever and never let go neverever.
And…he did, he loved Yamagawa, he was so very sure of it right now, which meant he had an even bigger reason to keep Yamagawa here, because losing a ‘something else’ would hurt, but losing someone he loved would hurtkillstab even more so he’d never let Yamagawa go.
His lips moved against Yamagawa’s, and he tried to say the words even if they were unintelligible, though he didn’t know why he was so desperate for Yamagawa to know because love…love seemed so stupid, because no matter how hard he hung on Yamagawa was eventually going to leave so why bother with love? But he needed to say it, to make it real, even if Yamagawa didn’t understand what he’d said, even if it meant he’d get pushed away, even…even if Yamagawa didn’t love him back, because if the words were said, were made real, then…then they weren’t stupidpointlessdirty because if it was real and lingering in the air, then…it was okay…
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Posted: Fri Oct 27, 2006 5:55 pm
The gold eyes flickered slightly at the blankblankdeadness --familiar, he knew that type of voice, it was...was just like...-- in the voice, turning slightly to glance over at the table. Then he glided back, bending over and looking upside down into the other's face.
"Don't get so blank," he said brightly, even though there something darkdepressedhesitantstrange swirling in his eyes, something he didn't even know existed but was there and it wasn't happyfunwantingtohurt which was odd because that was all he was pretty much feeling right now. But even though the strangesomething showed in his eyes and it was so clear, he didn't even know it was there so it didn't matter.
"Don't worry," he purred, a smileleergrin slipping over his lips. "I won't hurt you too much. I kind of like you." There was something about not feeling anything that was just appealing to Zanis, though he wasn't quite so sure why he was so drawn to it. Just like he had been when Kiba had been blankemotionlessdoll and it had been perfect.
And now there was Butter, Butter who had a nice name and didn't feel a thing except for heat, so he felt obligated to hurt Butter, just because, but not really as much as others because he did kind of like Butter. Simply because he didn't feel anything and that was...
That was perfect.
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Posted: Fri Oct 27, 2006 6:04 pm
Was it bad if Yamagawa said this wasn't enough? Was it selfish? Was it.. was he was he really being bad, wanting more and more of the burninghottingly touches and the soft pressure --thatfeltreallynice-- of Kiba's handfingertipsbody against his body against his hair tugging pressing making Yamagawa feel, just wantingneeding sososososo much more?
Because he did. Even though Yamagawa felt like he was brimming so sososo full so much with the warm sparkly glowing gooooood feeling that he felt like he was going to burst or split in half --because.. because it was sososovery good so good that it made his heartchest ache in a strange, good sort of hurting and Yamagawa wasn't sure if this was goodness becoming hurtinggoodness or.. or the other way around-- it just wasn't enough. Like.. Like something was missing, a lost piece last piece of the puzzle, a nagging sort of feeling at the back of his mind that absolutely refused to be swamped trampled drown under the torrent of goodgood nice awesomeness-feelings that the other male was setting off inside Yamagawa. He wanted the nagging sort-of-nasty feeling to go away, for that annoyingmissing something to be here and not anywhere else much like Kiba shouldn’t go anywhere else without Yamagawa because Yamagawa didn't care, didn't care if he was being selfish or bad he just needed Kiba here for ever!
"Y--" The redhead tilted his head slightly, the hand resting over the small of Kiba's back --sososososoprettyslenderpaleprettyKibanesswarmth--tighteningpushing a fraction, because they needed to be together needed to be warm and not sad not dark not lonely not nothing and Kiba had to keep Yamagawa from not hurting Kiba and the only way he knew he could do that was for Kiba to not go. And.. and he didn't want to hurt Kiba, didn't want to break Kiba didn't want to make Kiba sadcoldhurtbroken ever. Not like the darkblackoffcoldsnakething because Yamagawa wasn't that thing he wasn't he couldn’t ever ever hurt Kiba like what heitthing did and.. and he wouldn’t ever let himself hurt Kiba like that either. He.. He wasn't quite sure how, but he would stop. He could and he would, because Kiba was good and Yamagawa loved Kiba--
His eyes snapped open in shocked surprise, hands almostalmost stilled poised nervoustremblingconfusedneeding more of the touches more of the smell more of the taste of the other anywhereeverywhere all over himself needing to fill that darkempty gap that was still there even though there was so much so much heat pressing down everywhere the coldness was still there. But.. but love? Did he really, really love.. He..
He honestly hadn't loved anyone before. Maybe.. Maybe he did, a longlongloooooong time ago that he had forgotten, the fragments of the stomped fragile brokenness now too faint for the redhead to decipher, but.. but he knew this was the sort of warmglowy feeling that 'he' used to bring, maybe same maybe different but similar..!
Yamagawa.. He knew that there was something special, something something else something different about Kiba that made Yamagawa wantneed him so much, something different about Kiba that went beyond just making the redhead feel warmthglowyburning inside. He just wasn't sure what it was.
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