Sasuke was
Soft white skin, splattered with blood.
Dark eyes, wide and glazed with pain.
A hoarse voice, screaming my name.
Thin fingers grasping and scrabbling at the floor, the wall, the sheets, his clothes, at whatever he could reach.
the only thing I ever wanted so much it hurt. It was all I could do not to hurt him everytime I saw him, because he was desperately beautiful when he was screaming.
Sasuke was
Untouchable.
Forbidden.
Irresistable.
the one thing I couldn't have, the forbidden fruit made all the sweeter par its forbidden nature. Part of the thrill in loving him, wanting him, hurting him, and having him was the knowledge of what would happen to me if I was caught. The thrill of doing wrong and not being punished for it was the best feeling I ever had.
Sasuke was
Beautiful.
Red eyes.
Red blood.
Black hair and white skin.
Innocent.
delightfully innocent, beautifully naive. Corrupting him was the best thing I did in my life, the only thing I am truly proud of. I broke him down and made him beautiful. I deconstructed him and made, out of the raw materials of his soul and mind and body, a work of art.
Sasuke was
Beautiful when he cried.
Quiet when I told him to be.
Loud when I wanted him to be.
wrong. Wrong to have, wrong to touch, wrong to hurt, wrong to want. I never cared about wrong and right, though, so I didn't care if Sasuke was wrong. It was the bad things that felt the best, after all.
Sasuke was
Perfect.
Broken.
Beautiful when he broke.
so fun to break. I told him not to tell anyone, and I know that he didn't. He might have, after he was away from me, but that doesn't matter. Talking about it won't make it go away. No matter who he tells, I still broke him. No matter who he tells, he was and is ruined for everyone but me.
Sasuke was
Crying.
Needing comfort.
Not expecting me to do what I did.
five. He was scared and I was there, and I held him and he held onto me. Soon enough, he was in my room, on my bed, and I took him. He cried and screamed and squirmed, which made me l’amour him. Sasuke doesn't know, but I loved him. There is beauty in broken things, after all.
Sasuke was
Angry.
Hateful.
Strong.
stronger than I thought he'd be, but not as strong as I'd hoped. It was enough, though, because I was the broken one, the bleeding one. He was beautiful like that, panting and covered in blood. I wanted to take him, wanted to break him and hurt him and make him mine like I did when he was young, but I couldn't. So I kissed him, and he knew that he was mine. He screamed and hit me, again and again, until I couldn't feel his fists slamming into me. He hit me until his knuckles bled and his blood mixed with mine, but that's okay. Our blood has mixed before. Our blood is the same, because, after all...
Sasuke was my brother.
Soft white skin, splattered with blood.
Dark eyes, wide and glazed with pain.
A hoarse voice, screaming my name.
Thin fingers grasping and scrabbling at the floor, the wall, the sheets, his clothes, at whatever he could reach.
the only thing I ever wanted so much it hurt. It was all I could do not to hurt him everytime I saw him, because he was desperately beautiful when he was screaming.
Sasuke was
Untouchable.
Forbidden.
Irresistable.
the one thing I couldn't have, the forbidden fruit made all the sweeter par its forbidden nature. Part of the thrill in loving him, wanting him, hurting him, and having him was the knowledge of what would happen to me if I was caught. The thrill of doing wrong and not being punished for it was the best feeling I ever had.
Sasuke was
Beautiful.
Red eyes.
Red blood.
Black hair and white skin.
Innocent.
delightfully innocent, beautifully naive. Corrupting him was the best thing I did in my life, the only thing I am truly proud of. I broke him down and made him beautiful. I deconstructed him and made, out of the raw materials of his soul and mind and body, a work of art.
Sasuke was
Beautiful when he cried.
Quiet when I told him to be.
Loud when I wanted him to be.
wrong. Wrong to have, wrong to touch, wrong to hurt, wrong to want. I never cared about wrong and right, though, so I didn't care if Sasuke was wrong. It was the bad things that felt the best, after all.
Sasuke was
Perfect.
Broken.
Beautiful when he broke.
so fun to break. I told him not to tell anyone, and I know that he didn't. He might have, after he was away from me, but that doesn't matter. Talking about it won't make it go away. No matter who he tells, I still broke him. No matter who he tells, he was and is ruined for everyone but me.
Sasuke was
Crying.
Needing comfort.
Not expecting me to do what I did.
five. He was scared and I was there, and I held him and he held onto me. Soon enough, he was in my room, on my bed, and I took him. He cried and screamed and squirmed, which made me l’amour him. Sasuke doesn't know, but I loved him. There is beauty in broken things, after all.
Sasuke was
Angry.
Hateful.
Strong.
stronger than I thought he'd be, but not as strong as I'd hoped. It was enough, though, because I was the broken one, the bleeding one. He was beautiful like that, panting and covered in blood. I wanted to take him, wanted to break him and hurt him and make him mine like I did when he was young, but I couldn't. So I kissed him, and he knew that he was mine. He screamed and hit me, again and again, until I couldn't feel his fists slamming into me. He hit me until his knuckles bled and his blood mixed with mine, but that's okay. Our blood has mixed before. Our blood is the same, because, after all...
Sasuke was my brother.
