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[youkohiei_fan]

CLAMPkink anon meme!!!
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Corruption (10/?)

[anonymous]

“Now what?” we both seem to be thinking, and for the last time I could remember before we headed out of the bar, we’re looking at each other distinctly. I search for something in his eyes, into the things unknown and I can feel he is doing the same. But that breaks immediately as soon as he leans down and presses his lips on mine again, but this time gently to my odd surprise. Do I still want this? Do I still want to go all the way with him? My mind and body tells me “yes”, but my mind also tells me “no.” It feels like the alcohol is starting to rub off on both of us and now instead of being insistent and needy and now, now, now, we’re starting over and taking it slowly. Maybe it is better this way, I think, instead of rushing headstrong like how we would normally do it in all other aspects.

As he slowly makes his way down my jawline and along my neckline, peppering every inch of them with the brush of his lips and sending shivers along my spine I run my hands absentmindedly over his muscular arms, letting myself roam over them and take in the arms of a warrior and a devoted protector. I wonder how many times he used them to hurt and kill, but to also care for and tend to his group, maybe even that idiot he claims to hate and loathe, but in reality he’s just an idiot who cares for an idiot. I envy him for being able to still reel in all of those he aims to look over, when I myself have failed to stop her from leaving me in the first place. Not wanting to let her haunt me right now and ruin all of this, I heedlessly seize him to kiss him roughly again. He doesn’t protest at all and obligingly caters to my selfish wants and needs.

Fingers of mine instinctively crawl their way up into his spiky dark hair, and to my immense surprise they are far from being sharp and crude. They’re soft and warm and inviting and I run my hands through them over and over, evoking strong memories of silky blonde hair the same intense color of the burning sun that I would run over day in and day out in the past. I immediately want to choke in this intense remembrance, wanting to wrestle my hands out of them at once. But when I feel his rough, calloused hands running up my neck and weaving into my own thick and silky black hair, I then could only think of her and not of this man.

I let myself go into those territories again.

There is no man in my room right now, it’s her. I’m not kissing him, I’m kissing her. Red eyes are automatically replaced with twinkling blue pairs and the vivid images are now burning heavily underneath my eyelids. Rough skin becomes smooth and supple in the very palms of my hands and I no longer hesitate to roam over them greedily. I haven’t seen her in months but I never forgot what she looks like; could never bear to forget and thus resign to have her burn in the back of my memories here and there. I would give in to her just as much as she would give in to me and now I’m slowly letting myself remember as much as I could when in reality it’s not her and it’s him who’s addressing that want and need. But nearly everything inside of me wishes it’s her instead and yet my body could care less. So I grab one of the hands roaming over my body and hold onto it and I hear his hiss hovering over my mouth. It turns out I went over his fresh scar and feeling ashamed I let go of it.