Title: For the Kill

Couple(s): Yusei x Aki

Rating: M

Warning(s): Dark themes, sexual references, blood.

Notes: Request for Kelisidina. I know it's only a drabble, I'm sorry, I hope I don't fail you.

There's truth in your lies
Doubt in your faith
What you build you lay to waste

-- Linkin Park, "In Pieces"

Two years ago, he asked me to marry him. I told him he was insane.

The wedding was beautiful, however. Everything was white, the color of purity, of redemption; I had thought that in marrying him, I was redeemed. After all, how could a man so full of love and compassion, so caring and forgiving take me to be his wife if I wasn't? There had to be something, something extraordinary, something special that he saw in me; something that made him fall deeply in love with me. I knew it because he said so, every day:

'You are nothing but my world.'

'I cannot live without you.'

'I love you.'

The poor fool. Didn't he realize that he also could not live with me? I could so easily kill him, crush his very being at any instant. One bad argument, one slip-up, and he could be dead. He said he didn't care, hence why I agreed to marry him. Of course, it wasn't just that I married him because he wasn't afraid of the monsters within me; I loved him too.

Dear God, did I love him. He was the essence of perfection; he never yelled, never raised his voice. He always spoke calmly, with sweet, gentle words made to caress a broken heart. Everything he did was performed with gentle care; every touch, every kiss... even when we made love, he knew exactly how far he could go without hurting me.

I wished I could say the same thing regarding myself.

"I'm so sorry," I muttered, barely audible as I cradled his mangled form in my arms, kissing the open wounds on his face. His blood stained my teeth, the repulsive coppery taste of it burning my tongue. As I had for so long feared, the loss of my temper one evening had resulted in me unleashing my horrific powers. And only he could be the victim.

There was a strangle gurgling noise in the back of his throat, and he coughed up some blood. I knew he was trying to speak to me, but he simply couldn't; his voice had left him, and he was drowning in his own blood. I softly hushed him, continuing to kiss his barely-recognizable face, my tears washing his wounds. He winced in pain from the stinging salt.

The only thing left completely untouched by my rage were his eyes, his beautiful, cobalt blue eyes. They alone projected how handsome he was, despite his mutilated form. And though he could speak no words, their burning, blue intensity told me everything: that he had already forgiven me. I sobbed, burying my face into the crook of his neck. The smell of the cologne I had given to him our last anniversary still lingered on his burnt skin.

His broken hand gently pushed me off of him, and then traveled to meet my waist. Immediately, I understood what he desired. Cupping his cheek, I leaned down and kissed him fully on the lips.

And stole his last breath.


Comments: Darkest thing I've ever written. But I still fail; I had hoped to give at least 1000 words, but that's obviously not the case. My apologies.