whether or not she's depraved doesn't really matter. he'd told her before that he wouldn't make excuses for her behavior. she killed those girls. she slaughtered those girls. she tortured those girls. and all because she couldn't stand the idea of being alone. all because she insisted that the unwitting protagonist love her and only her forever and ever.
still, he's not quite sure this qualified as suffering. suffering implied pointless pain; this pain was very much pleasurable, very much welcome and very much desired.
his inhibitions were fading fast though he acknowledges they have an audience and will for the duration of this dalliance. it doesn't bother him. if anything, it excites him even more. kaiba wasn't shy about himself, wasn't shy about anything, least of all his body. he looks good and he knows it. monika knows it too, even if they both were ugly people.
kaiba arches into the glass, all firm muscle and hooded eyes. he bites at her finger, draws it into his mouth and sucks at the bloody cut with deliberate slowness.]
Please.
[it's flat. blunt. even professional. if she wants something desperate, something sweet, she'll have to earn it.]
no subject
whether or not she's depraved doesn't really matter. he'd told her before that he wouldn't make excuses for her behavior. she killed those girls. she slaughtered those girls. she tortured those girls. and all because she couldn't stand the idea of being alone. all because she insisted that the unwitting protagonist love her and only her forever and ever.
still, he's not quite sure this qualified as suffering. suffering implied pointless pain; this pain was very much pleasurable, very much welcome and very much desired.
his inhibitions were fading fast though he acknowledges they have an audience and will for the duration of this dalliance. it doesn't bother him. if anything, it excites him even more. kaiba wasn't shy about himself, wasn't shy about anything, least of all his body. he looks good and he knows it. monika knows it too, even if they both were ugly people.
kaiba arches into the glass, all firm muscle and hooded eyes. he bites at her finger, draws it into his mouth and sucks at the bloody cut with deliberate slowness.]
Please.
[it's flat. blunt. even professional. if she wants something desperate, something sweet, she'll have to earn it.]