| [Apr. 20th, 2009|11:21 pm] |
Not giving an inch crumbled somewhere between two I do's and the future, and Kakashi hated himself a little. Ryouma's wrist hung loose in his hand, no longer fighting to pull away. Kakashi didn't release it. If anything, he tightened his grip, reassuring himself with the pulse that still beat beneath bloodless skin.
Ryouma trusted him and didn't. Kakashi trusted Ryouma and didn't. And neither one of them could back away from the edge and pretend it didn't matter because it did.
Two and a half months standing next to each other; it felt like a lifetime and nothing at all.
And Ryouma couldn't believe he'd stay.
The bastard scared him half to death talking about love, watched Kakashi fight more demons then a soul was supposed to carry trying not to run away, and still thought he wouldn't stay. Like he was the kind of man who'd make a promise and break it half a heartbeat later.
Even when he'd promised never to care.
"You suck at changing the subject," he growled, lips pulling back from teeth, unsure who he should be furious at and angrier because of it. "I'm not like you. I don't run up to every person who smiles pretty and smells good and give them my heart to break. I don't even like people. But I--" He hesitated, but there was nothing left to lose. "You're mine. One of my pack and I don't care what other name you give it." Friend, like Ginta had tried and Ryouma wanted. Kakashi was tired of fighting it.
Eyes like a thunderhead stared up at him, wide and chakra-blue in the double vision of Obito's eye. Kakashi inhaled, ribcage hitching, then leaned down, pinned Ryouma's wrist to the bed, and bit a perfect scar in the side of his neck, shocking him right out of that charred flower scent.
"And I'll leave you behind when that fades." |
|