The easy pattern of her breathing and the slow rise and fall of her chest is the indication that she's fast asleep. Traveling the roads only the pure of heart can reach...Which is why I never sleep so peacefully. My eyes are drawn to the gentle swell of a creamy breast and the curve of a hip peeking out the side of the light sheet I threw over the both of us.
Shinai'na, beloved she always was to me. Eyes closed in slumber, her face is so perfect and serene, it's not hard to believe she was once a goddess. Ah, from the remembrences I have of the Silver Millennium, she was the delicate flower many men dreamed of having under them, panting and moaning, in satin sheets. That was one of the first things that drew me to her then. The sweet innocence that at the time, I thought was an act. In my experiences, no one could be that pure. Yet her soft cerulean eyes held me captivated and by the end of the night, I had pledged my love to her.
Now, I admit I am a mortal flawed with human nature. She was the personification of the Eternal Goddess. That was probably one of the reasons I sought my sexual relief elsewhere. In my eyes she was too pure for someone like me to ever sully with primal needs. So she was my flower, my star, but almost never my lover. The one time we consummated our love, I tried to be tender, and in the end, I couldn't reach my peak. I drove her nearly mad with ecstasy, pushing us both to heights no one had reached before. I prolonged her pleasure until it was almost sweet agony for her and an unescapable torment for me.
We never made love again.
I'm brought up past my memories of old when she stirs...But it is only to mumble a few words and drift off again. Those pale red lips had offered me many a tender invitation, and yet I never accepted. Each time, it hurt her and I knew I was stealing little bits of her love for me. I admit now, this is one of the reasons that drove me to Rei. It all began with the simple need to talk. And now...
Looking at her peaceful face again, I am ashamed. Brushing off the sheet, I go into the bathroom and pull out the tiny blade I used to replace the one in my shaver.
One for every stolen kiss.
Two for every damning touch.
Three for every hurt look She gave me.
Blood leaks down my arm, pooling on the counter's surface and blotching the perfect white marble. As I stare and more blood flows, I start laughing. The blood made shapes, shapes that hurt and shapes that healed. But what struck me as the funniest was the fact that puddled there on the counter was the bloody rose. I pick up the razor again and add to all the neat little lines on my wrist, knowing they would be healed by morning.
One for every smoky look.
Two for every sensual caress.
Three for all the times I've failed our promise.
I fling my arms out and contempelate the little blood patched now on the walls and floor, running down my partially upraised arms and down the lean, tan chest that Usagi so loves to run her fingers up and down. Lines of blood...lines of honor...lines of broken reality...
One for every time she's cried out my name.
Two for every heave of her breasts against me.
Three for every time I've brought her to orgasm.
And a kiss for every time I have not.
But as I smear the blood on my body and drop the dull, crimson blade, I know I'll go back to Rei again. I know I will damn myself again as I rest sated in her arms and in her bed. For I was addicted. Addicted to the pleasure and addicted to the pain I inflicted afterwards. The look I give myself in the mirror, eyes traveling down the naked expanse of my body, knows that this flesh will be corrupted by her touch again... and again...
For I would not sully the goddess, yet I'd succumb to the seductress. For I was human...For I was weak...And most of all...
Because I was Mamoru, future husband and past love to the Queen.