A series of mini stories, narratives, and various perspectives for YULLEN week!
I'm currently busy with my main story, so I can't do anything too involved. If you want involved, go check that one out. This one is more along the drabbles lines. Each chapter will be a different day!
All we ever do is fuck and fight. In no particular order, of course. Sometimes we brawl mercilessly—your fists brutalizing my body, while my fingers threaten to pull that black hair out of your head. Other times, my brain is busy reeling at how your eyes can be so cold, yet your body so unbelievably hot, to the point we reach our melting points and bleed together—seamlessly.
We are like fire and ice.
You are frigid and reclusive. You don't talk to people and they don't talk to you unless they want to be on the receiving end of that delectably barbed tongue. You know, when I arrived at the Black Order, I was still innocent to the real cruelty of reality. That's kind of funny, considering what I'd been through. Reality had never given me you until then, though. Reality showed me that you were the true object of my suffering. That barbed tongue bit into my soul every time you let your venomous words lash at me.
Yet some how, we ended up here.
You move like liquid grace somehow blended with animalistic brutality. There is something untamed and ungodly about you. You should be a sin. An intoxicating, irresistible sin. I used to think I was pure. My mind never drifted to the things you make me drift to. You lit my fire.
I let you pin me down beneath you. Because it excites me. The feel of your long black hair dancing over my skin…your hands brutalizing my skin in that strange, almost lover-esque manner. We aren't lovers, though.
Lovers don't beg to be fucked without mercy.
Lovers don't fling words of scorn.
Lovers don't hurt each other so completely.
Lovers don't hide their companionship like it's a disease.
Yet, somewhere in the dead air between us—between the words neither of us speak—there's something there. I'm not going to bring it to light and neither are you. If I won't speak, I know you won't. Quiet space between us is all we need now. We're two stupid, horny teenagers looking for something to fill the emptiness.
It just so happens that the half of me that I need is the half that you have and that I fill the empty part of you.
It's a simple coincidence. Nothing more.