Chapter Text
no matter how much sakamaki laito would insist, lust is nothing like love. love is selfless, always giving. lust is a deadly sin, always taking and taking without giving.
it really is a pity then, that it was this particular young girl that had received the heart of cordelia. many, many, people would have loved the power it bestowed upon them, and taken full advantage of it. but for yui, or as some would call her, eve, who had been thrust right into the midst of supernatural beings warring for her blood ( and heart, but that's less important), it might seem much less like a blessing and much more like a curse.
she suffers very much in this tale, i'm afraid.
now, let's begin.
yui's seated in her room in the sakamaki manor. alone, for once. pretty pink eyes are fixated upon the slender fingers pooled in her lap, fidgeting with each other, legs curled up behind her lithe form onto the bed. her silence doesn't last for long, because she's rudely interrupted by the sudden appearance of one sakamaki ayato.
"oi, chichinashi!"
he has her pinned to the bed in seconds. the life in her face abruptly deserts her cheeks. does ayato enjoy seeing it? probably, because he chuckles and leans in with all the grace of a seasoned predator. maybe he should have slitted pupils, that'd certainly suit him. a larger hand wraps around yui's own slender wrist, twisting it to the bed with force. that's going to leave marks, for sure. come a day or two, those will bloom into violet and green, clashing uglier and uglier with yui's pale pink theme.
" quit spacing out on ore-sama! " shakes her by the wrists roughly, like a rag doll. " what, are you thinking about other men again?"
"a-ayato-kun! you're hurting me! please let go?" already tears of fear bead up like crystal gems in big, big eyes. you would think that yui would have been accustomed to being pinned down and bitten already, but maybe not. ayato rakes his eyes over her scrunched up face and not for the first time, thinks how pretty she is when she makes faces like this. smartest thing to do was to keep quiet and stay still, but not yui. she squirms ( rather unttractively, in ayato's great opinion. chichinashi really has no sex appeal.) like a worm beneath him, crying out for him to get off of her. maybe another day she would have let him take her blood quietly, but today her vision was swimming white, feet unsteady in carrying her weight. for god's sake, she might die if he took any more!
" i was just wondering if the mukami brothers were alright....they seemed kind of off today-hngh!"
ayato has her pinned down by the throat, and his large hands are steadily tightening around her neck.
" thinking about other men when ore-sama is right here...you really are shameless." so he watches her writhe with a smirk on his face, watches her face getting paler and paler with each choked out breath.
yui can't speak anymore...she can barely think. so she swings her head vaguely upwards in a last ditch effort to headbutt him. she can't die here, not like this!
but ayato's face is awfully close to hers, his chin tilted just so. instead of connecting a blow, their noses brush and their lips connect.
i know. awfully like a cliche shojo plot, huh? well, who do you think this franchise is targeted at, anyway?
ayato's so taken aback that he loosens his grip on yui's throat momentarily, which she takes for the chance to squirm free. she's quick to react, but ayato is quicker, and he traps her in a vice grip, suprisingly neatly trimmed fingernails digging into the tender skin of her shoulders so that she can't move an inch. does he trim them, or what?-
the vampire presses his lips bruisingly to hers, ice-cold tongue slipping past her lips into the warmth of her mouth. his fangs scrape painfully across her tongue, and she winces as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, sucking hungrily on the warm muscle, determined not to let a single drop of blood spill. it's so odd, because ayato moves and walks and talks, but it feels somehow like the cold kiss of death, or a living statue, or even a corpse. her breath fans out warm across his marble skin as she tries to break away for air, but ayato chases her mouth with his own. he doesn't let up till she's frantically scrabbling at the front of his shirt.
yui tilts her head up to look at him, face utterly flushed with shame, but her lips are soft and puffy, dripping glossy at the corner with spit. with the flushed cheeks and the teary eyes, like she can't take anymore of this, ayato's never seen a more arousing face on the girl. and believe me, he's seen plenty of those.
his heart is cold and dead and unbeating in his chest, but it's almost as if his blood heats up and pumps faster around his body. he's getting worked up, now, all over a little flat-chested girl with suprising sex-appeal. ayato turns the taste of blood over on his tongue, metallic sweetness, and cups yui's face to devour her lips again. more, he wants more. it's not enough.
unbeknownst to the pair, ayato's striking green eyes glaze over with a hazy glow. one down.