Wills Run Dry
Summary: There are things far more painful than losing a battle. 1820
Disclaimer: I own nothing (save the plot, ha!) so don't sue me, please?
"I told you before… you cannot bite me to death with your fangs."
The fresh wounds stung but not as much as the memory did, as thought my womanhood had been soiled by mud, tainted by the withstanding prejudice that riddled the Cosa Nostra. I willed myself to stand, no matter how much my lower extremities protested and ached from the many bruises that I had just received from him – the only man that had reduced my pride to shambles, over and over again. Formerly a pair, I held my lone fan with a dead man's resolve and it slipped freely from my grasp as my knees buckled and gave way, not able to hold my bodily weight any longer.
I looked up, expecting a smirk or even worse, another blow, equally as painful as its predecessors but it did not come. Even seconds after, he did nothing.
"Hi-Hibari Kyouya." His name was an accusation, a curse that had besieged me since my first fall and defeat.
"Suzuki." It was that dreadful monotone again – one of my many torments – but my grimace did not relent. In an agonizingly slow yet forward pace, he went over to where I was, sprawled and bloodied against the pristine whiteness of his abode, and merely grazed his table top with his free hand while the other was wrapped in coils around his tonfa, as if it were some sort of security blanket. "Have you had enough?"
"If I said no, what would you-" He retaliated by making my flesh taste metal as his weapon caressed my chin. I was sweating then, mind scrambling for an escape route, no matter how disgraceful but he drew back, the threat gone and in the confines of his holster.
It was a grim reality but my choices were down to the lowliest possible forms of retreat. I bit down on my lip as it betrayed me by quivering, even if only slightly. I shut my eyes, feeling the assault of pain surge through every fiber of my being, and breathed in as a diversion and means to repel the throbbing in my limbs. With haste, I regained my footing and my resolve flared, fervently as ever.
"Suzuki." I felt icy fingertips rest on my cheeks, tracing and exploring its arches and I faltered. I shouldn't let him get to me. Not like this. It trailed lower, down my neck and into the slope of the collar bone that he had almost fractured just a spar previous. "Stop."
The command lacked the bite to intimidate but it served its purpose nonetheless. "What do you want from me?" It was a whisper, even the vicious lash of my tongue left me. I had become a slave to his touch yet…
"I should ask you the same." His grip tangled with my ponytail and with a bit of subtle handiwork, the elastic band securing it fell. "What do you want from me, Adelheid?"
My name was the last straw and I clutched onto his shirt, staining it with my color.
His arms… they were strangely accommodating.
A/N: Wow, a hetero pairing. Hmm. I don't know. Strangely enough, I think they suit each other well. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to whip something up.