I hate gatherings. I hate crowds. I hate anything where more than 10 people are packed together in the same room. Why am I even here? Because I knew you'd be here too, and as usual, you didn't disappoint me.
It's a fucking wedding, and the noise and the people are making me fucking sick. I don't care if the Pharaoh's midget is getting married to that brunette, I'm only here for the food and to see you. Do you even notice that I'm only here for you? I see you standing, next to your 'hikari' –if there's any light in Malik Ishtar, it has to be dug up with a forklift- and you look away from me. I don't know what you're looking at, and probably you don't even know it yourself.
Distant. Unapproachable. Your eyes always show me the same, distant look, as if you're seeing right through me...no, scratch that, as if you're seeing right past me. Do you even know yourself? Do you even know what you are doing...to others, to me?
You look great, as usual. Tan skin, spiked platinum blond hair, the gold on your body. I know your taste, I know your scent, I know your body. I only don't know you, because you don't give me the chance to. Do I want to know you? Why would I want to know you, just because you laid under me a few times and screamed and yelled and had to be forced down onto the mattress? We're not into any kind of relationship. We're not into any kind of romance or love anyway. I still would've loved to see the reaction of the cleaning ladies when they found the blood all over the room.
The Pharaoh greets me in passing- just a slight nod with his head, of course. The sucker is walking around with the wedding bouquet- did he catch it or did he wheedle it out of someone? I doubt he's going to be alone for a second even though his precious aibou just got married; according to some rumors I just caught (the one and only advantage of a large crowd- you overhear lots of things) he's simply moving in with the blushing bride and groom. That's going to be some kinky wedding night.
Talking about kinks...where are you? Why did you move out of my sight? I turn around, searching for you. I don't expect you to care. Hell, I don't even care myself unless you serve my purposes- a good distraction, an excellent lay, a work of art to look at, especially when covered with blood spatters. I yearn to see you like that again...to move my fingers over your body, drawing, composing. It's the only moment that I feel something...like close to you. That is what we share. Bodies, not souls. Blood and lust, not tenderness and kisses.
There you are- standing with your shujinkaku-sama next to my yadonushi. They seem to get along well, and you seem to be bored. You're an island on your own, even though other people surround you- they don't try to involve you in their conversation, but you're still there, looking around, looking past every one. I want to get out of here, and take you with me. There are plenty of motels in the neighborhood, we could even go to one of our respective former host's places; they'll be too busy with attending the wedding anyway. Finally, you turn your head towards me and show me that lazy grin, knowing what's going to happen. Good.
I join the small group, simply coming to stand close to you. Some of the others take a small step back and show some confusion, but most of them just nod or mumble something. I don't give them any of my attention and touch your arm- or rather, stomp it. You look down at me –our height difference is minimal, still you're a little taller than me- and widen your grin. To some, it would look deranged, to me, it looks good...because I get to wipe that grin off your face when I tie you to the bed and show you my knife. When I do, you'll look at me with pure ecstacy in your eyes. You live for that moment, that precious moment when pain mixes with pleasure, that sweet moment when pain will overtake pleasure and you will open your mouth and scream my name. I live for that moment too- because I want to be the one that gives you this pain and this torture you need, this pain and this torture I need to give.
We leave the group, not telling where we are going. You're silent, but not meek, you follow, but not obedient. I catch a last glimp of the wed couple; as I thought, the Pharaoh is standing next to Yuugi. That is what they share. Souls, not bodies. Their bond is deeper than what I have ever experienced: with my host, with...you. Do I care? No. Do I want to have such a bond? No. Have I ever reached you? No, I don't think so. The question is: is it even possible to reach you? I'm wasting my time here. I only want you below me, hearing my name being spat from your lips, in pure hatred and loathing, because I fucking need it. Screw the distance. Screw you.