Dear reader,
This story was created in order to have an ongoing story to play with at various communities at Livejournal, mainly for dokuga_contest’s Weekly Perfection and Oneshot Contest. Thus, chapter lengths will vary a bit. This chapter’s prompt was: Yearn – 400 words. Originally posted on February 13th 2011.
On another note, I’ll try to be historical accurate and I hope I can do the Roman Catholic Church justice. If you find something, however, incorrect or offending, I’ll appreciate it, if you drop a line. Feedback of every other nature is welcomed, too.
And now enjoy!!!
Disclaimer: The characters from Inuyasha belong to Rumiko Takahashi.
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Her hand on the knob, Kagome let the door clunk shut behind her, making her presence known to the only other person in the room. She leaned on the heavy wooden door and drew in a deep breath. Her gaze was focused on the man, who stood in front of the fireplace. His hands rested on the mantlepiece, the head hung between his shoulders, as brown eyes were staring into the fire.
“You should not have come,” he droned.
With all the determination she had mustered over the last few months, she walked over to him. He straightened up and she could see the dark circles around his eyes, evidence that these last months had not been easy for him, either. Kagome was certain: she had shown too much of the trepidation concerning his appearance in her mimic, for Sesshomaru backed away from her. Small hands clad in fine cotton gloves clutched the crude fabric of the sleeves of his black robes.
“Sesshomaru…. Don’t hide your beauty from me,” she whispered.
The tall man regarded her for a moment and then closed his eyes. Kagome’s heart threatened to burst out of her ribcage, when the long, dark strands of his hair slowly brightened into the purest shade of white. Two magenta stripes appeared on each cheek, his skin considerably paler than before. The crescent moon shone on his elegant forehead, when he opened his now golden eyes again.
Red lights danced across the delicate features of his elfin face, an ethereal glow revolved around him, just as the sweet odor of olibanum that always accompanied him. His eyes slightly narrowed, one dimple adorned each cheekbone and his mouth formed a soft o. She could feel the breath on her face, could sense his indecisiveness, his pain was her pain. However, she would not force him into this. She knew Sesshomaru too well and nothing could be gained from such an act. Instead, his mouth inched closer to hers.
Oh, for how long had she yearned to kiss his lips! Lips that uttered the words that meant everything to her, the very same words that forbade her to desire him. He cocked his head slightly, his nose brushed against her cheek.
“I can’t,” he finally whispered against her skin.
Then Sesshomaru disengaged himself from her embrace and stormed out of the room robes billowing behind him, leaving a stunned Kagome behind.