as fic: i am already king (lucifer/alexiel)
Written for and cross-posted to 31_days.
I AM ALREADY KING.
Angel Sanctuary copyright Yuki Kaori.
If they fought, it was enchanting and whimsical, like the lilting waltz of a single black butterfly. They were the wings, their clashing swords the writhing insect middle. How beautiful it was. Each matched the other blow by blow in strength, in technique, in the sigh of perfection. They fought endlessly; they fought tirelessly. They fought.
He fought her as he would a man. There was no compassion or pity in these cold, dark eyes. Whether this added to or detracted from insult was meaningless in his mind. Just this: that although she had appeared to him in her naked body the first time they had met, he would never view her as a woman. He was not in love with her. He was in love with no one.
She said to him, "I will not be forgiving if you lose to me, ever."
"Would you kill me if you had the chance?" he asked.
"That isn't what I meant."
He gazed at her steadily. Otherwise his face remained devoid of all telling expressions, his body at once, and permanently, in the ready for any attack. He was swift, she found. He was also efficient. Most importantly, he was ruthless.
And then. A hand curled around the hilt of his sword. Blood from a slight throat wound at her neck. A black butterfly brushing its wings closed.
He said: "Do not be meek, and if you are, then inherit the world."
The look in his eyes, like God, she will never forget.
END.
I AM ALREADY KING.
Angel Sanctuary copyright Yuki Kaori.
If they fought, it was enchanting and whimsical, like the lilting waltz of a single black butterfly. They were the wings, their clashing swords the writhing insect middle. How beautiful it was. Each matched the other blow by blow in strength, in technique, in the sigh of perfection. They fought endlessly; they fought tirelessly. They fought.
He fought her as he would a man. There was no compassion or pity in these cold, dark eyes. Whether this added to or detracted from insult was meaningless in his mind. Just this: that although she had appeared to him in her naked body the first time they had met, he would never view her as a woman. He was not in love with her. He was in love with no one.
She said to him, "I will not be forgiving if you lose to me, ever."
"Would you kill me if you had the chance?" he asked.
"That isn't what I meant."
He gazed at her steadily. Otherwise his face remained devoid of all telling expressions, his body at once, and permanently, in the ready for any attack. He was swift, she found. He was also efficient. Most importantly, he was ruthless.
And then. A hand curled around the hilt of his sword. Blood from a slight throat wound at her neck. A black butterfly brushing its wings closed.
He said: "Do not be meek, and if you are, then inherit the world."
The look in his eyes, like God, she will never forget.
END.