Crimson scars

Author: Gabrielle MoonBeam

Fandom: Digimon (No, I don't own the series! Toei, Fox Kids and someone else do)

Rating: R

Archives: At Anywhere else, just ask and send me the address :)

Warnings: Self-mutilation, blood drinking, shoujo ai.

Couples: Sora/Mimi

Notes: Meep! A contest entry for Cynthia, Piedmon's Lady and her Vampire Shoujo ai-contest. I'm still getting used to writing Sora and Mimi, so I hope I'm not very crappy.


She stares at the rivulets of crimson seeping from the gashes on her arm. The flow of the liquid as it follows a path of its own down to her wrist. A few drops of the shining substance dangle, on the very edge of falling, and she darts out a pink tongue. Licks at the blood, the red colouring her lips ruby, satiating a need deep inside herself.

She lifts her head as a silent gasp echoes around the hollow, empty room she's standing in. The knife she used dangles limply from the fingers of her right hand, the wounds it has caused silently bleeding.

She has to battle the urge to bend her head, or even bring the soft surface of her skin to her mouth. She fights the urge to feed, drink, enjoy herself in the only way she knows how.

And Mimi has gone so pale, lips working, trying to form sentences. The Child of Sincerity stares at the Child of Love in horror, worry, but not disgust.

Never disgust.

She tucks a strand of pink hair behind her ear. Sora can hear her loud and clear, even though she hasn't said anything. The depths of Mimi's brown eyes fill with sorrow, body leaning unconsciously towards the red eyed girl, lending warmth to her chilled frame.

Sora smiles, letting the knife drop, drop with a clatter to the ground. She smiles a crimson stained smile, teeth flashing. Mimi cannot take her eyes off Sora, off the girl she has dreamed about. Off the girl who cuts herself to drink blood.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Mimi" she whispers, the red of her eyes sparkling, hungry. Her head tilts, and a tuft of amber hair falls from behind her ear to lay against her cheek. Mimi cannot speak, cannot think, cannot understand the real meaning of Sora's words.

Long, sickeningly thin fingers reach out to touch Mimi's pink, alive cheek with something akin to wonder.

"No, I never wanted to hurt you. Never" she whispers again, her voice very silent, wondering, raspy.

Mimi takes a breath, her chest expanding, brushing against the curve of Sora's breasts. The pink-haired girl is still rendered speechless, motionless.

"I cut myself, because I need blood. I need the taste, the texture of it running down my throat. I need the pain, the scars and the itch the knife gives me. I need it all, because it's all I have. It's all I can feel. All I'm allowed to feel" She still whispers, although there is no-one there save for herself and Mimi, the fragile flower she is now holding in her arms.

Mimi swallows, breathing in the heady scent of another female, the faint wisp of Sora's perfume tickling her senses. But the most beautiful thing about Sora is running down the too thin arm, blotching, staining the white dress the red eyed girl is wearing.

And suddenly Mimi can speak, can move, for the red eyes have slipped shut. She pulls Sora even closer, fitting their hips against each other, her breath warm on Sora's forehead.

Her lips move.

"I drink blood because it's the only aphrodisiac I can afford. It gives me power over myself, over the whole wide world and it feeds my hunger. My hunger for you" Sora whispers, her breath caressing the pale, pale skin on Mimi's throat.

Mimi smiles, lifting Sora's left arm, lifting it until it's resting against her mouth, against her lips. And the pink haired girl darts out a tongue, licks leisurely at the drying traces of blood, of life, off the skin of her beloved.

Sora is light-headed, her dress pink with all the blood it has consumed.

Mimi's lips kiss and nibble at the wounds on Sora's fragile arm, open the healing cuts to bleed again, feed her in the way they have fed their master.

Sora shudders in her embrace, nuzzles her head into Mimi's soft, so soft, pink hair. A hand steals down Mimi's back, caressing, tentative.

And suddenly they are just two teenagers caught in a moment of raw emotion, of coming to terms with yourself. Abandoning all that is safe and normal.

They are just two girls, locked, entwined, sharing whispery gossips, rumours, tales of love, lust, innocence. They are two vampires, caught up in a tangle of limbs on the kitchen floor, the knife laying next to them as if nothing has ever happened.

And maybe nothing has.

Maybe everything is as it's supposed to.

Just maybe it really is Sora and Mimi, sharing a blood-tinged kiss, a promise of a tomorrow together.

A promise of a thousand scars closing.