>[ Sephy ]< (hiei_jajanshi) wrote in roadsnevertaken,
>[ Sephy ]<
hiei_jajanshi
roadsnevertaken

Sick of These Games [Swords & Roses: Faust]

Something told the man to wake and rise from his peaceful slumber; a consistent nagging in recesses of his mind, those alert to outside disturbances while Faust slept. Whatever it was had been powerful enough wake him and this could mean several things. Keishen had entered his room, attempting to pull off some sort of childish prank or Eve’ Hana had yet experienced another nightmare and decided to crawl into bed with him as he found her doing so often. But this was not the case. The bedsprings did not creak or groan with the effort of supporting the child’s weight nor did the aura of madness that usually clung to the madwoman overwhelm his calm. He did stir further, but rolled back to his side and waited, listening for any sign of approach.

It was then Eve’s sweet voiced rang clear through the silence, even though she barely spoke above a whisper. He sighed heavily and released the knuckle white grip on the dagger beneath his pillow. A subtle haze still fogged the Hunter’s mind, preventing him from total clarity of thought, but his demonic senses were flaring in such a strange manner that he took a brief moment to stretch tired limbs, though not once taking his mind from Eve. He found the feat almost impossible, for the deathseeker captivated his fancy in ways no woman ever had, though he suspected this was only part of the truth. In fact Faust had developed a keen ability to cast his conscious into many entities or pay attention to many events at once. The room, the house, its occupants, and even the park fountain located miles away from the Kusanagi residence did not escape him. Images of each poured into his mind and a deep calm came flooding his lithe form on a whim, brief and inexplicable but pleasant if only for a few moments.

Faust sat upright, gently pushing an errant lock of navy hair from his maroon gaze. The room’s features were bright even in near darkness. He could make out Eve’s heat signature from the blackened corner, something he found surprising but not unwelcome. Yet another gift he would savor. She was cold, and rightly so. A form-fitting tank top was all that covered her upper body accompanied by blue jeans and black leather boots. Smalls flecks of snow speckled her hair, alabaster tears dotting richly thick midnight canvas. It stuck out at odd ends, streaked occasionally with silver. Her skin was paler than usual; it carried a glossy sheen he’d suspected came from the melted snow. And finally her seductively predatorial gaze pierced the heavy shadows separating the two. This scene, this very moment served to remind him of what she was, what she could still become. The Deathseeker was always with Eve…and the Oni with him. He could no more predict what possessed her to leave the warmth of her home to come here than fathom the seemingly limitless capacities she possessed.

If words could describe how he longed to rise and draw her into his arms and refuse to let her go, tear clothing away and taste every inch of her soft flesh. Just such a passionate vision passed through his mind on more than one occasion since their meeting and he didn’t care if she intercepted the thought. All this had become so complicated that Faust was beginning to lose sight of exactly why he’d found the woman fascinating to begin with. Why their destinies had become entwined.

“Somehow I knew you would come.” The Hunter stood and slowly trekked across the tepid carpet to the window that closed itself during his approach. Eve remained motionless. Her scent sent waves of tension up his spine and to the tips of his fingers, making it difficult to maintain his composure. When was it last he dared to stand this close to her, unabashed by the suggestiveness set by the silence? “Let me guess. You couldn’t resist dropping in on me, huh? Something new or just like old times? I have to know, because if this is going to be something you’ll do frequently I’d at least like to put on some pants…”

His voice drained of emotion, Faust stepped closer to Eve, perhaps too close, but picking and prying had done him no good. The time for uncertainty had passed, along with his teenaged years. With his hand he reached up and traced the iridescent trail of a frozen tear and gazed into her soul.

“Tell me, Eve, why have you shed these tears?”
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