opheliac :〖byakuran〗

What an amusing little girl you were. So small, so vulnerable, so breakable…

Byakuran muses to himself about your tiny form, unable to control himself from grinning like a mad man as you nervously fidget in front of him, hands drawn close to chest, palming your White Spell uniform. His eyes roam the contours of your body, pleased at how it trembles in his presence. So small… so fragile…

“Ma, ma, [Name]- chan; why so nervous~?” he sings.

You jump at the sound of his voice breaking through the previous silence. Shaky [e/c] hues gaze up at him through thick lashes, full of fear and anxiety, and your voice wavers as you attempt to stutter out a reply.

“I-I’m not nervous, Byakuran-sama… it’s just… cold.”

You think up a lie and you think it up quick. The snowy hair male’s eyes bore into your own, and it is all you can do to turn your vision to the side and try to keep your cool. You rub the side of your arm in a feeble attempt to get him to believe you.

It feels like hours as he just stares at you, eyes trailing from your quivering lips to your knocking knees and everywhere in-between.

He lets his smile creep just a little further up as he takes a fluffy sweet and squishes it between his fingers. You briefly wonder if that’s you he’s imagining he’s squishing.

“Fair enough, [Name]- chan,” he replies as he fists a handful of sweets and pops them one by one in his mouth. For the moment you are completely ignored in favor of attending to his favorite candy.

God, you want this to end. You need to get out of here, you need to be anywhere but around this man… this powerful man that could break you in two at any given moment. You’re fear of him is greater than any other. You feel sweat build up at your brow and inhale, but are unwilling to make any other motion.

Because you know, he watches you like a hawk. He has for a long time now…

Just as you are about to raise your small voice to address the man ( a stupid move on your part) he breaks the silence once more.

“Come sit with me, [Name]- chan~” his cheerful voice brings icy cold shooting down your spine and the hair on your neck stand on edge. The smile he had previously dropped to devour his candy treat now back, full and gentle. His lilac eyes shine with adoration, but you are not fooled by his ruse.

You gulp lightly, keeping your vision anywhere but him. Your heart begins to beat rapidly as adrenaline fills your veins.

“I-I don’t think tha-”

“[Name].”

Fear takes hold of your feeble person and your body begins to shake even more, uncontrollable to you. In a horrid decision, your eyes slink upwards to meet his. Your blood runs cold at the lack of smile and his narrowed eyes. More sweat accumulates upon your brow.

Hesitantly, you take a step forward, hands fisting at your skirt.

“Yes, Byakuran- sama.”

You approach the white leather couch the Millefiore head is sitting at, godlike in all his glory, and go to shakily sit down. Much to your chagrin, however, you’re a pulled into the white haired man’s chest full force. You gasp at the impact and attempt to pull back but are held firm by a single hand on the small of your back.

“B-Byakuran- sama-”

“Just stay still.”

His voice is firm, demanding, yet holds a desperateness to it. His arm wraps tightly around your waist and keeps you close to him while the other fists your [h/c] tresses tightly and forces your head to your chest. Unable to move by a mixture of fear and his astounding strength, you can only take in a shaky breath. Your eyes wide with fear.

You hear him as he takes a deep inhale, nose burrowed deep in your silky hair. Under your palm, his heart beat is erratic.

He is more at peace than you have ever seen him. But then again, that probably wasn’t very good.

“You’ll never leave me.” he whispers. It isn’t a question, but more like a demand. His hand grips your tiny waist harshly and you wince. Pain shoots up as far as your ribs; undoubtedly a bruise is already forming in that place.

His other hand previously buried in your hair releases its grip and strokes your head. In contrast to his real nature, his pats are gentle and dare you say, soothing- If not for the fact that you were still shaking and slightly breathing heavily from this close proximity and the fear forever imprinted within you.

“Never.” he whispers again and it is final.

His hand buries into you hair once more and with a harsh tug he brings your vision back to his own deceiving lilac orbs. You gasp in pain and the thumping of your heart increases tenfold. His gaze bores into your own, but his lips are drawn tight in a good humored smile.

“I love you, [Name]- chan~”

His hand caresses the side of your face and you can only think one thing: Lies. However, it is only in your power to return a half hearted nod of your head.

“I… you too, Byakuran- sama.”

And that is all it takes for your mouth to be drawn to his in a forceful, fear controlled kiss.

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Opheliac: someone who has delved into madness and developed an obsessive attraction towards another.