Less Than

Call Me Yours Again

I know we’re a little late for such things as trigger warnings, but this chapter has some self harm elements in it that some may find disturbing. Just a heads up.

Also, for reference, I’ll be using Kars’ bejeweled manga outfit/Eyes of Heaven alt. outfit later on in the chapter.

Ain’t he pretty?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kars had never been alone. There was almost always someone there for him. When he was young he had his tribe, when he eradicated them he had Esidisi and in turn Santana and Wamuu, even while he slumbered for thousands of years, his ilk was at his side. And then he had you. The very thing you seemed to fear the most, was something he’d never quite experienced, nor did he ever believe it would be an issue. He was a God, with everything under his orchestration, he was above such human emotions, such as loneliness; or so he thought.

His time spent with you was like a book he enjoyed reading over and over again, his advanced intelligence allowing him to remember it in detail to a perverse degree. How your skin felt against his, how you tasted on his tongue, how intoxicating you smelt, and so much more. From the moment you arrived, you belonged to him. Of course he wasn’t crass enough to simply pluck you from the other humans right as you arrived. He was a smart man who knew how humans worked. He waited patiently, it didn’t take long, a few simple weeks was all it took for you to learn your place, to understand that you were subservient to his kind. Only then did he make his move.

He leaned back against his silk covered pillow, eyes closed as he enjoyed the warmth of you against his skin, the aroma of lavender and sandalwood lingered in your hair from your earlier bath, but his favorite scent by far was yours; the one he’d infused with you, rather. Kars inhaled deeply, letting the tantalizing warmth surround him in an almost maddening feeling. Your trust in him was fragile, but there nonetheless; he was truly all you had, and he was more than willing to use that to his full advantage. He of course had entertained the idea of killing you, it would be simple, so very easy to just simply rid himself of you, and in turn end these feelings he’d associated with you. Your head laid atop his chest, one leg draped possessively over his lower half, as your brows furrowed in your sleep, eyelids twitching lightly. Nightmares had become common for you, your nails leaving small crescent shaped dimples into his skin as even in the throws of sleep your fear of abandonment was prevalent. Not that it bothered him any, in a sick way he almost enjoyed the small markings, welcomed the small sting on his skin, as if he was chasing some sort of high.

It sickened him, the way he enjoyed your new-found affection, how you craved his touch that he was more than willing to give to you, provided it was on his terms. He would spend so much of his time stringing you along, bringing you close physically until you desperately sought his lips with your own, a cruel smirk coming to his lips as he coyly pulled away and watched your reaction. He drank in the fear and insecurities that shown in your eyes, frightened that he would simply discard you, then lean in, quelling your fears with a harsh kiss, whispering kind words with mock sincerity. You were indifferent to his tone though, as if you were oblivious to the various inflections of human dialogue, instead only naïvely drinking in his faux words of comfort and praises.