Summary: Again for 31(underscore)days, but inspiration didn't come until it was too late to post it. I'll settle for posting here for now though, and just post it there under a different theme (I'm sneaky like that).

This is also dedicated to all of the writers who inspire me to step outside my boundaries and mimic other styles in order to allow myself to learn. These writers are: Memphis Lupine, incandescens, afrai, autophanous (at livejournal), and moonsheen (at livejournal).

there is blood in fairy tales
(theme- july 29; let the world around us fade)

It is dark.

They're in his room, on the bed, and she blinks, once, before staring up at the ceiling (which she can't see) until it hurts. Until her eyes blur, burn, and she feels like she's spinning.

"We shouldn't do this," she says.

Hatsuharu laughs (bitter and tired) when she recoils her hand from the brush of his. "We did," he breathes against her shoulder.

She curls and uncurls her toes while he glides up over her, slick with sweat, lips brushing her collarbone.

"We shouldn't do this," she says again even as her hands float up to trace over his stomach, then twining thin arms 'round his back like vines.

Even as her nails dig into him like thorns.

"I know," and she relies on hearing to see the wince on his face. "But we will."

For a moment, it is light.