For Her Love [Pandora Hearts, Will of the Abyss/Break, R]

[arizonaicerose.livejournal.com]

Title: For Her Love
Author: arizonaicerose 
Rated: R
Warnings: angst, blood, implied scenes, non-descriptive sex
Word count: 1496
Summary: He knows in his heart, this can be nothing more then a dream. It is impossible for him to jump into the Abyss where she lives. Yet even the thought that this is nothing more then his overactive mind, does not dull the pain and the pleasure that she causes. Deep inside he pleads and begs to let this time be real.
Spoilers may be present for Break's past
A/N: I’m hoping that this sounds ok. I usually excel at angst but this time it was harder. And I’m not sure if I got the prompt right. I hope this is just partially salvageable.
Prompt was: -Pandora Hearts, Will of the Abyss/Break: submission, angst, pain play - broken heart broken mind / when you let me in, did you not know where I'd been?

x-x-x-

The first cut is always the deepest. The most painful. The one that mattered the most. Every other cut that came after that one did nothing more then keep the high continuing. But it was the first one that sent the ball rolling, that started the chain reaction that Break had found himself slowly falling into.

He knows in his heart, this can be nothing more then a dream. It is impossible for him to jump into the Abyss where she lives. Yet even the thought that this is nothing more then his overactive mind, does not dull the pain and the pleasure that she causes. Deep inside he pleads and begs to let this time be real.

“You’re a brat. Did you know that?”

Break finds himself once again lying on a freezing floor, staring at the floating, dancing dolls above him. He swears one of these times he will kill them, burn each and every doll. It unnerves him to notice just how many witnesses watch them together every night. Tonight the urge is greater then any other as he stares at the multitude of small hands that hold his arms and legs down.

Really it was a rather pathetic attempt of bondage. All he had to do was pull; one sharp tug and all the dolls would fly across the funhouse room. Yet, the thrill of being held down is too much for him to break away. The thrill it leaves almost is as wonderful as the first cut.

Feeling all of his free will being locked away invigorates him. It’s exciting to be on the bottom for a change, to be out of control. The control that Break always shows his lovers. Break can feel the powerful hold and his body acts like a virgin’s. Each time feels like the first time they were together. He can feel his heart speed as it flutters like a butterfly’s wings in his chest. Breaths come in frenzied pants; pants that leave him dizzy and begging for more oxygen to keep alert.

She kneels above him, long white hair veiling him from the hands that holds him down. And again he feels his heart speed at the thought of losing control. Knees dig onto his sides as she digs nails into his arms. Break has learned that she rarely speaks anymore. In the past she used to yell and scream at him until her voice was raw and the numerous dolls attacked him for upsetting their precious master.

Now she does not need to speak. Her actions scream louder then what her words ever could.

Nails rake down his arms, leaving deep crimson trails in their wake.

‘I will show you as much pain as you show me.’  He hears her voice perfectly in his head as the pain floods his veins.

Break’s back arches as he feels sharp nails dig into his pale skin. A moan is attached to each breath as his head lulls to the side. Already he can feel his body reacting. The first cut had begun.

His heart races as a worried nervous system sends out adrenaline to try to help its beholder. His brain coaxes and begs for Break to pull away and run, to remove himself from the danger. Flight or fight. Break feels his body reacting as his vision narrows and his brain runs in circles and his heart flutters wildly. Breaths are shattered pants and moans as he feels his body being raised off of the cold, tiled floor. He refuses to break the illusion by looking down- he knows from experience that he will still be lying spread eagle on the chipped floor- as eyes flutter shut.

Knees dig even more into his sides, threatening to bruise, as she slams her lips against his. Teeth clack as the two are jarred together. Break deepens the kiss, trying to feel more as he forces his body to keep the self induced high going. As she pulls away, much too soon for his liking, Break groans at the loss, his head rising slightly as he hopes to gain some control.

Control she refuses to let him ever have as she claws at his clavicle. Break moans has he feels fingers slowly slide down his chest, red trails marking her fingers’ paths. Bending down she nips at the exposed skin, tongue darting out to trace the reddened marks, pausing long enough to lick at a drop of blood that seeps out from a deep section.

Clothes are ripped from his body, shredded by razor sharp teeth and nails. It never takes long before he is lying before her naked as the day he had been born. His crimson eye flutters open again, taking in her beautiful form before him. Break still refuses to understand how he can hate her, yet at the same time love her body.

Loves what she does to his body.

Tentative fingers trace the vile mark on his chest. The constant reminder of their first fateful meeting. The reminder of Break’s sin.

‘Why can’t we ever go back to this time.’ She whispers inside of his head. This hurts more then when she yells at him. He rather have her yell, scream, beat him up! It never hurt as bad as when she would ask such heartbreaking questions.

And he wants to lie to her, tell her they can. There is no reason they can’t go back to that time.

But reality sinks in as he knows that they never will. There is too much between them. Too much hate, too much bad blood. As much as he wants to, he knows that they can never be together like in the past. Teeth worry at his lip as Break tries to ignore the pings of pain in his heart. That’s why he lies here every night on this chipped, cold, tiled floor for her.

And he knows that as much as she needs this power of being in charge. Of getting revenge for all of the hate she poisons her delicate body with. He needs this as much as her. He needs to feel human for once. Break needs to feel- even if it is faked- that he is being forgiven for every transgression in his life.

For leaving young Sinclair alone when she cried out to him (with tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes). For all of the deaths he caused during his life. For hurting those the closest to him.

Sometimes Break wonders just how long it will take to make amends to every person he has hurt.

Another moan is attached to his breath as Break feels his body eloped by her sweet, tight body. It takes everything in his willpower to not toss off the annoying cloth hands and toss her to the ground. Her movements are gentle, careful and unsure as she shakily raises up on her knees before sliding back down. The hem of her white dress tickles his pale skin, teasing and tempting the man.

White hair falls back as she whimpers and fingers twist and tangle around the soft, snowy fabric. Hesitant movements become bolder as she becomes more sure of herself. Gasps fall from her lips as tangled fingers start to comb through her long strands before sliding and caressing down her body.

“Harder,” Break whispers, but he knows that his command falls on deaf ears. She never listens to what he commands, never lets him take control. No matter how small of a piece that control may be.

Legs twist as Break pulls at the hands that become surprisingly strong as they keep him from moving from his prone position. Another tug of his arms reveal that he is not going to move, at least not until she is satisfied.

His heart races again at the thought of being out of control. She could keep him here for minutes, hours, days. The possibilities of what she wanted to do were limitless. And it excited him to know that.

Each breath has a moan attached to it as Break feels her body tighten around him. Gasping she rolls her hips, her pace quickening as her end comes. Arching his back Break moans deeply as  his eye rolls back and fingers and toes curl.

x-x-x-

When he awakens Break is discouraged to be laying alone in bed again. He is tired of dreams and illusions. He wants nothing more then to be with her. To feel her arms wrap around him, nails scratching at him, body eloping his.

Carefully he slips out of under the blankets to clean up before collapsing back onto the soft mattress again. He knows that there is no possible way that he will see her again tonight; yet part of him cannot help but hope that as fatigue flows over him that he will awaken again on that cold, chipped floor again with the voyeuristic dolls flying over him again.

x-x-x-

A/N: Ohh, the ending sucks I bet. Sorry prompter.

Comments

[tsutsuji.livejournal.com]

Aw, don't be apologizing all over the place! It's pretty much just exactly what prompter was going for! because prompter is a twisted little sadist sometimes, heh Well done! thanks for taking on the prompt. ^^

[arizonaicerose.livejournal.com]

:) Your welcome. I'm glad it was what you were going for!

[gommyommy.livejournal.com]

That was very nice...lots of good moments in there!