Word #163
Title: Possession
Fandom: Original
Rating: PG
Comments: Not sure if this was actually 15 mintues... it just kind of ended up being... rambling. *sigh* I need to break out of the block.
It started out innocently enough.
That was only half the truth, though, really, because really, neither of them had ever been innocent.
He would disagree, in her favor, she knew. But, she knew better.
He knew better too.
But she had never been a great follower of sense. In fact, she much prefered to drive men against it, when possible. Far away from that stretch of black and white and deep into the gray - then deeper, deeper still into crushed crimson.
He was not one to be easily driven. But then he was not one that could be called a man.
She would never understand why he had spared her life that cool thick evening. She would never even ask, but once, directly - and the answer would never be hers. Maybe it was never his, either.
However, that's how it had all started, out of protection. She hadn't realized it then, her small hands, her small mind and long hair and wild eyes. She would wonder years later if even he had. But it was a protection that she had gained; a possession.
She had never had something all her own.
Out of protection came her power. Power he gave her. Power of herself.
Power over him.
They had never been innocent. But she knew he had never thought that she would capture him.
She could have let him go...
No.
The power. He was the thing that was hers.
There was a time, once, when she tried - she wanted to let him go. To let him be free...
It was fleeting.
And he would return. Like a caged bird that loved its prison too much.
His face to her mind, his voice to her thoughts. Something was lacking, and only he would fill it. Only his voice could fill that silence. His image. His pain.
Her control over him.
Only the control.
Possession was power.
Love was weakness.
It was simply an itch to be scratched. Nothing more.
Not love. Only power.
Never love...
Never love.
Fandom: Original
Rating: PG
Comments: Not sure if this was actually 15 mintues... it just kind of ended up being... rambling. *sigh* I need to break out of the block.
It started out innocently enough.
That was only half the truth, though, really, because really, neither of them had ever been innocent.
He would disagree, in her favor, she knew. But, she knew better.
He knew better too.
But she had never been a great follower of sense. In fact, she much prefered to drive men against it, when possible. Far away from that stretch of black and white and deep into the gray - then deeper, deeper still into crushed crimson.
He was not one to be easily driven. But then he was not one that could be called a man.
She would never understand why he had spared her life that cool thick evening. She would never even ask, but once, directly - and the answer would never be hers. Maybe it was never his, either.
However, that's how it had all started, out of protection. She hadn't realized it then, her small hands, her small mind and long hair and wild eyes. She would wonder years later if even he had. But it was a protection that she had gained; a possession.
She had never had something all her own.
Out of protection came her power. Power he gave her. Power of herself.
Power over him.
They had never been innocent. But she knew he had never thought that she would capture him.
She could have let him go...
No.
The power. He was the thing that was hers.
There was a time, once, when she tried - she wanted to let him go. To let him be free...
It was fleeting.
And he would return. Like a caged bird that loved its prison too much.
His face to her mind, his voice to her thoughts. Something was lacking, and only he would fill it. Only his voice could fill that silence. His image. His pain.
Her control over him.
Only the control.
Possession was power.
Love was weakness.
It was simply an itch to be scratched. Nothing more.
Not love. Only power.
Never love...
Never love.