Affectionate Thoughts In A Disturbed Mind

Disclaimer – Nope, don’t own them. But I now have the Millennium Ring. Time to start trapping souls! MUAHAHAHAHA

Author’s Notes – some one shot, eh? I’m awful, I know . . . plenty of you have told me that over the past two years. Oh well, I’ll live. Here’s another chapter . . . and let me tell you, this one wasn’t easy. But it’s not done yet . . . there will be another chapter after this, I promise.


Chapter 2 –

Hello Ryou.

Well, that’s an interesting color. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him turn quite so interesting a shade of red and purple.

Put a towel on? Now why the hell would I want to . . . oh. OH! Damn it, how come I didn’t think of that? Wait a minute . . . when did he start ordering me around!? Just for that, I shouldn’t . . . but then again, he looks like he’s going to faint any second now. While interesting, he could hurt his head, and catching him in this condition isn’t exactly what I would call advisable. Towel it is then.

Okay, Ryou is going back to his nice pale complexion. That’s a good thing . . . I was worried there for a moment. Hang on . . . I was worried about Ryou? Damn it, I thought I washed this annoying sappy shit away with all that blood! So help me, if I get one more pathetically idiotic thought in my head . . .

Now Ryou’s looking at me oddly. Damn it, he’s too cute when he does that. FUCK! Okay, I’ve had about enough of this. Storm out of bathroom, down the hall, and slam the door. I’m now minus a little aggression . . . and feeling guilty. Somebody fucking shoot me.
Clothes . . . I need clothes. I have a veritable need to get dressed suddenly. Oh shit . . . Ryou saw my scars. Some god up there must be laughing, because they’ve managed to completely make my life a living hell in a span of a few hours. My hikari is as curious as a cat. There’s no way he’s not going to ask about these scars. Fuck! Where the hell has my black shirt gone this time!?

Lightest touch on the back of one shoulder, surprising a very disturbing squeak out of me. When did Ryou come in here? Wait a minute . . . when the hell did he get the nerve to come into my room without my permission!? Doesn’t he know that some of the stuff I do in here could scar him for life!

Oh hell . . . he’s staring at the scars again. Where the fuck is that damn shirt?! It’s got to be here somewhere . . . now if I can just get them covered before he opens his mouth . . .

Too late. Shit. Well, Ryou, where do you think they came from? I’m a thief! Or I was. Did you expect me to be some unmarred beauty? Sorry to disappoint you, little one, but I was a criminal, and I did get caught a few times, as well as fighting for my life almost every damn day.

Don’t look at me like that . . . gods, those wounded eyes. They tear into my soul like a dull knife, ripping out my very small, black heart that still has some compassion left within it apparently.

Oh hell . . . I might as well stop fighting this. It’s only going to make my life more miserable than it already is if I keep denying it, since my heart seems to be overcoming my mind for control of my thoughts and mouth. I’ve fallen in love with my hikari. There, I said it, or at least thought it. Admitted it to myself, that’s the phrase I was looking for. As hopeless a situation as I could ever land myself in, but the truth. Well fuck. Okay . . . what the hell did I ever do to deserve this? There must be something I’ve forgotten, because simple tomb robbing does not warrant being forced into this hell.

He still looks so hurt, like I reached out and slapped him. If I could take back my words, Ryou, I would. These scars are not something I’m proud of, and I don’t ever want you to know the pain I’ve been through that caused them.

I can’t help it . . . I reach out to cup his face in my pale hand, running my thumb across that smooth, arching cheek bone. It hurts to touch him, knowing that he can never return what I’m feeling . . . only one of us is that insane, thank Isis. I’m surprised he doesn’t flinch from my touch . . . he used to. I’m happy that he doesn’t though. When was the last time I felt happy about something? It seems like it’s been forever . . . and maybe it has. So many years spent in that Ring, only to be a damaged soul when I finally have found my salvation. How do I say I’m sorry to you, Ryou? How do I ask you to forgive me, when I cannot forgive myself for what I did to you? This is the only apology I can give you, because words will never be enough.

I can’t bear to see those wounded, hopeful eyes looking at me so calmly, so trusting. What have I done to earn such trust from you? Somehow I have ended up on my knees, pressing my face into his stomach, feeling his fingers thread so delicately through my ragged, damp hair. Have I lost my mind? I’m not this weak . . . am I? Do I truly need your forgiveness so badly that I will kneel before you and beg for it silently? Yes . . . yes, I do need you to forgive me.

Please forgive me, my beautiful hikari, for daring to touch the stars. Forgive me for trying to drag your purity into the mud in order to protect my own darkened soul. Forgive me . . . forgive this . . . love me.

The press of pale lips against the smooth, barely exposed skin between shirt and waist, the taste and scent of him like ambrosia to my mind and soul . . . gods, how can I live with this? How can I go on knowing the horrors that I’ve put you through? How can I go on loving you, knowing how hopeless it is? I’ve finally lost my mind.

The lightest of pushes, forcing me away from him so that he can fall to his knees in front of me. Ryou, what are you doing?The caress of lips against mine, whispers of apology falling from those delicate petals against my face, the barest breaths of air as he begs for me to forgive him. The angel begging the demon for forgiveness? For what, Ryou, do you ask my forgiveness? What evil can someone as pure as you have done that you must ask me to absolve you of it? You’re too good for such things.

Gentle fingers, like feathers against my skin, soft touches of pale flesh against the scarred remains of my body, worshipping me. I can’t breathe . . . I can’t think, his fingers drifting lower to wrap around the very core of my passion and pain. Oh gods, Ryou . . . please, stop this torture. I don’t want to hurt you . . . not you, my angel. And that is the only way this can end . . . I am damned, don’t you understand that? There is no saving my soul.

Soft carpet against my back, Ryou kneeling above me with a gentle, sad smile as cool air flows over my exposed flesh. Hands smoothing against my flesh, leaving burning trails in their wake across my skin. We can’t . . . I won’t . . . oh merciful Isis, kill me now, before it’s too late to stop this. The whisper of clothing sliding over skin, the glimpse of pale flesh as he bares himself to me. Why do the gods torture me so, giving me a glimpse of the unattainable?

How has it come to this, that an angel can teach a demon to feel again? Ryou . . . what have you done to me?

Searing warmth, my fingers clenching into the carpet, feeling the roughness of the fiber against my skin to offset the satin of his mouth on my flesh. So good . . . gods Ryou, stop! I’m not worth this . . . hate me Ryou, don’t love me in return. I don’t deserve such purity.

Flesh sliding against flesh, his slim body pressed against mine, lips pressing desperately to mine as if this is the first and last kiss we will ever have between us. So pure, so innocent . . . Why can’t I stop this? What fiendish hell is this that makes me unable to save him from myself?

No choice, no option, feeling him move against me, my body refusing to obey my mind. Fingers in my mouth, like cool popsicles against my tongue. Suckling at them, drawing their taste into my memory to give me something to hold on to, some memory of this to carry in my shriveled, blackened heart. A wince and a moan above me, pain flickering across his pale features. Oh Ryou, what are you doing? Why are you doing this to yourself? Why am I not stopping you?

Flames burning within me, turning me to ash as his hands glide over me, feeling my skin and turning me to embers as he devours my very soul. Who is the angel, and who is the demon? Can an angel know such a thing as this?

Whispers of love against my ear, short pants for breath as I feel him grip me in his hand, a silent hesitation before I am within him. My turn to whisper apologies, holding him gently as he stills above me, brown eyes closed so that I cannot see his soul. Ryou, please . . . forgive me for not stopping this.

Movement now, a dance older then time that once begun cannot be stopped. His flesh against mine, the torture of pleasure, the bliss of pain as he moves over me, above me, taking me with him towards the heights of heaven, saving my soul even as he condemns it to hell. Ryou please . . . you’re killing me and creating me with the same act, and you don’t even know it. Why are you doing this?

Faster now, straining to reach the heavens as hands explore, touching, soothing, caressing, molding. Whispers of love, unheard in the passion, the symphony of our voices rising in the cool air. Hear me, Ryou . . . know that I love you, that I will never willingly hurt you again. I would rather die. Feel my heart beat against yours, only for you. Feel my breath combine with yours, our bodies moving as one, our souls touching for what seems like the first time. I love you, my beautiful angel. Forgive me.

Stars exploding, bodies combusting, strewing the heavens with our souls before we crash back to earth, lying against each other in the aftermath, our souls entwined delicately, inseparably. What have I done? What have we done?

Oh Ryou, forgive me this sin. The chill of tears against my cheeks, the pain of despair within my soul, knowing that I have tainted you. The touch of pale fingers against my face, wiping away the droplets of moisture as if they are diamonds to be gathered.Chocolate eyes staring down into mine, so warm . . . so unbelievably warm. How can you look at me like that, Ryou? I could drown in those eyes, drown in the love shining within them. Wait . . . love? Have I died? I must have died, for there is no way that you could love me on this earth, not after all I’ve done to you.

Do not cry, he whispers to me. Bakura, don’t cry. Please . . . forgive me. I love you. My heartbeat is thunder in my ears . . . how can you say this to me? How can you love me? What have I done?

You have forgiven me . . . and condemned me to hell. No demon should ever touch an angel.

To Be Continued *giggles*