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Entry tags:
drabble: of love gone sour
Title: of love gone sour
Fandom: Soulcalibur
Characters: Amy, Raphael
Rating: PG
Words: 200
Summary: While tending to Raphael's wounds, Amy sees Raphael in a very different light.
Notes: Some one-sided Amy/Raphael.
---
Raphael lay unconscious for days after his return. So deep was his sleep that many times I believed him dead. Discerning life was difficult, even upon close examination; Raphael's heart beat in a slow, irregular rhythm, his breathing the barest whisper between his lips.
I tended to him alone. The wounds scoring his body carried Soul Edge's malice, and none of the cowards in the manor dared facing it.
I only feared losing Raphael. I watched over him every waking hour, and when exhaustion claimed me I lay beside him, my hand pressed to his heart.
During the endless days I learned Raphael's body intimately, and through it, the incomparable beauty of the human form. Raphael suffered none of the flab that so often plagues nobility; Fate's cruelties had burned away such softness, left him firm and sculpted. The flesh that was not rent by injury was smooth to the touch. I traced the curve of his lips over and over, committing that indescribable, wondrous texture to memory.
My body was growing, changing. The fleeting thrills that raced over my skin as I touched Raphael were my first experiences with lust.
Unknown to me, such feelings would seal my fate.
Fandom: Soulcalibur
Characters: Amy, Raphael
Rating: PG
Words: 200
Summary: While tending to Raphael's wounds, Amy sees Raphael in a very different light.
Notes: Some one-sided Amy/Raphael.
---
Raphael lay unconscious for days after his return. So deep was his sleep that many times I believed him dead. Discerning life was difficult, even upon close examination; Raphael's heart beat in a slow, irregular rhythm, his breathing the barest whisper between his lips.
I tended to him alone. The wounds scoring his body carried Soul Edge's malice, and none of the cowards in the manor dared facing it.
I only feared losing Raphael. I watched over him every waking hour, and when exhaustion claimed me I lay beside him, my hand pressed to his heart.
During the endless days I learned Raphael's body intimately, and through it, the incomparable beauty of the human form. Raphael suffered none of the flab that so often plagues nobility; Fate's cruelties had burned away such softness, left him firm and sculpted. The flesh that was not rent by injury was smooth to the touch. I traced the curve of his lips over and over, committing that indescribable, wondrous texture to memory.
My body was growing, changing. The fleeting thrills that raced over my skin as I touched Raphael were my first experiences with lust.
Unknown to me, such feelings would seal my fate.