|Skeren Dreamera (skeren) wrote,|
@ 2007-09-27 22:23:00
|Entry tags:||fy, hotohori, nuriko|
On Light Feet
Title: On Light Feet
Fandom: Fishugi Yugi
Warnings: Lots of thoughts
Word count: 623
Prompt: behind closed doors – “I just couldn’t help myself.”
He knew that the man would not approve of his actions. He knew that he believed himself devoted to Miaka, to someone he didn’t even see for herself. He was devoted to a fairy tale and refused to see anything else, and, sadly, he found he could not blame him. The girl really was much like the stories presented she would be and, in a way, that itself was unnerving.
Tonight was his chance to step away from being what he was. No warrior tonight, just the concubine, though sadly untouched, that he’d been before the girl came here. Just attention to unreturned feelings that needed a bit of a boost so that he could reassure himself that it was indeed a real feeling and not something he’d deluded himself into on a wish and grief.
He did not need his strength to get into the room, finding the door unlocked in a way that spoke of hope he knew wasn’t directed at himself. Shaking his head, he pushed through into the room, making sure to secure it behind him, long violet hair flipped back away from his face as not to fall over his shoulder and accidentally wake the emperor. He did need his sleep, and he did not wish to disturb that for his own selfish whims.
And it was selfish. He had no doubt of that, but he couldn’t help having wants, and insecurities were far and beyond par for the course when it came to hopes of affection from this one. So he was carefully light on his feet, using a learned grace that he’d found suited him well, and he moved to the beside.
The moonlight enhanced the finely drawn features, and he repressed the urge to sigh. The man would not be him without his arrogance, but he could not say it was unearned. No, no matter how foolish that conceit seemed to paint him, their emperor was nothing if not a beauty.
Cautiously, careful to make sure he did not wake the man, he sat on the edge of the bed, his hand smoothing the skirt down as not to cause it to make noise when sliding across the bedding. The other hand reached out to ghost over long fine hair, careful not to wake, and he grew slowly bolder when a delicate touch to his face did nothing to rouse the man.
He did not go beyond the exposed skin of face and neck, keeping the touches carefully gentle and not enough to tickle at once, and it was only when he felt urges that would do nothing but ill in this situation flare up that he pulled back fully.
He would not risk revealing more than he had through an accident that could well have been prevented.
Letting out a careful breath, he slowly retraced his steps, backing towards the door to slip out as quietly as he’d arrived.
If he had not paused to catch his breath, he would have missed the rustle of covers and the distinct sounds of movement within, but instead of seeing if the emperor had woken, he simply fled back towards his rooms.
He did not, truly, wish to know if the emperor knew he did these things, and it would be worse if he was imagining him as someone else when he did. If he did not check, he could pretend it was for him.
In the morning he would be a warrior again, so he thought that it was enough to be granted this dream at least.
Just a little private fantasy to keep him going.
He was sure it was more than some had, so he would be satisfied, even if it seemed not enough.