Author's Note: Feel free to leave constructive criticism!
Dedication: MissaMets, who deserves nothing less than Mr. David Wright himself.
Disclaimer: If I owned Vampire Knight, Shiki Senri and Tooya Rima would be canon.
Inspiration: Pressure Suit, by Aqualung.

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Angel's Breath

You're all that I've ever needed,
I know that you won't feel it.

If blood didn't lie, he was right. If the scarlet liquid that dribbled down his chin spoke only the truth, then the girl who was in his arms, pale neck bared to his teeth, was perfection. Even as a low, E-class vampire who would eventually succumb to madness, Zero knew he was tasting the sweetest blood he ever could. And he would never need anything else.

I want these gentle hands and this kind smile.

He drew back, unwillingly, reluctantly, fighting his vampiric urges to study the girl he'd been indulging off of for so long. Her eyes were like the chocolate she gave him for Valentine's Day -- soft and sweet, large and innocent -- tousled coffee hair fell to her shoulders in gentle cascades, one random strand strayed into her face and he almost brushed it aside to gaze upon her well-formed nose and slightly open, pink lips. Crimson surrounded the two puncture holes on her otherwise faultless neck, but from the way breath escaped her lips and the way her hands tightened on his shirt, she wasn't hurting.

I'll be your respirator,
I'll be your pressure suit,
It's alright.

And when he was overwhelmed with the life he was taking out of her, she would respond with embraces and whispers -- sometimes she wouldn't even know what she was telling him, but from the way his trembling ceased and his ragged breath grew calm, it was obvious that whatever she was doing worked for him.

It was her mere presence, but he would never tell her that.

Raging out your heart,
Somewhere far beneath,
Your pointed tongue and teeth,
Is where you really are.

It pained her to see how he would struggle through the day; she hated watching him gasp and moan -- he was going somewhere she could not follow because he wouldn't let her. When throbs pierced invisible holes through his chest and his teeth stung for want of blood, she could almost see the demons he faced as he turned away from her. He was strong, she knew, but there was only so much hell a vampire -- a human -- could take before breaking into insanity.

And before his time was up, she decided that she was going to save him.

Don't want to be forgiven,
But drag you down from where you are.

If he was in hell, then she had to be an angel. It explained the inhumanly sweet blood and the willingness in which she gave him hope. The hurt he suffered going through blood lust was excruciating, but when he realized that he was dragging her down with him -- and she was readily allowing him to -- his pain was so great that he would've gladly shot himself with the Bloody Rose. But of course, she would never forgive him for giving up that easily.

I will not let you go.

Sometimes Zero, the strict prefect and infamous vampire, still had nightmares. Nightmares of bloodstained corpses, Ichiru smiling at him across a massacre field with his parents' heads dangling from his hands, blood everywhere. And then the worst ones had Yuuki smiling at him, trusting him, before he sucked away her life drop by drop until her smile withered and nothing remained. When he writhed and cried, she would pad softly into his room, pressing warm fingers against his sweat-soaked hair to bring him back to reality. Even in the darkness of the room, her eyes sparkled meaningfully. He could feel her pulse as she touched him, and it was, as always, steady and welcoming.

His eyes would always search hers in the shadows, and then he would feel her fingers on the back of his neck, drawing him forward, towards the creamy expanse of her throat. When his fangs broke the skin and made contact with her gift, he would never taste hatred. And as his tears dotted his cheeks, her breath would brush them away.

I can't stop loving you.

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