Freya: ...yeah... hello. first VK fic, and I do recall saying it should be this pairing, but heck! I never expected it to act on its one at 3 in the morning! Then again, I am easily (scarily so) inspired. (shrug)

Warning: ...I should never ever write Kaname again. He is... weird... in this one. OC maybe? You decide. Either way, I'm pretty sure he doesn't hate Yuuki. Damn it. So, Yuuki bashing. Hate her like I hate Momo.

Enjoy...!...?

Would you dare?

Would you, I wonder. Would you follow him with your eyes as he passes by, watch him closely and wonder to yourself, as you have before, where is he going?

You would wonder. You would watch him. You would, there is no point in denying it. You are curious, are you not?

He glances back and sees you; he nods and keeps on going. Your curiosity is piqued.

You will follow him. You will tell yourself that you are worried, that even if he is the best prodigy the Hunters have ever had, he is clueless and suicidal-- and you are his friend. Yours is the eternal right.

I can not disagree. But I can watch you, and that is enough.

It is twilight.

You wait with him in front of the doors, and he acts as if nothing is wrong. He has always been good at that, but you are the exception, are you not? His friend.

The doors open and you momentarily forget your vow as the girls behind you squeal and try to come to us; you are quite adorable, even as you fail in your attempt to still them.

But he is not fazed. He glares, his eyes are deep and hold many an unspeakable horror-- the girls are quiet. Some dare to voice their complaints, but they are silenced once again. He needs no words today. Today, even they can see his visage.

It is veiled, dark and foreboding. But they can see that he is waiting. Waiting.

We greet each other, as per usual. I know you cannot distinguish my smiles, but he can.

He is the exception. Zero Kiryuu.

It is over, we have crossed the threshold and the girls are returning to their dorms. You glance at him, you watch him, as if to ascertain that he will make a move now. That you may catch him.

I would love to invite you, and show you, but there is no need for that.

You will follow him. Yours is the eternal right.

The night approaches.

He moves with lithe grace in the dead of the night, neither moon nor star illuminating his path and yet he is able to. You curse is instincts, but only in your mind. He must not know that you are following him.

I wonder if I should tell him.

But not now, for he keeps on moving. Through thickest branches and roots, you've no idea how he can but he does, and he does so perfectly. This is easy for him.

He has done this before.

He has, he has. So many times now. This path is a clear to him as it is to me, which is why we can be here.

He disappears from your sight, and you stop. Has he found out that you are following him? Will he sneak up on you from behind? You hold your breath and think of anything to say.

But that is unnecessary. You hear him walking again, but the sound is different. As if he is stepping on smooth grass, on cloth-- you have always wanted to go on a picnic with him, would this be the sound his footsteps would make?

And you hear him stop again. You are bolder; you try to get a better view of where he is, of what he is doing.

Yours is the right after all.

And you dare succeed. Pity.

"I'll wait for you. You know the place. Bring nothing but your self."

K.

"Yes."

Z.

They exchange swift glances as he passes by him. But swifter were the hands that exchanged a small piece of paper, that touched for a fleeting moment.

No one has ever noticed.

And later, when he passes by the window, the book he is reading has been given a bookmark. Another small piece of paper.

They are incongruous in their exchanges, unnoticeable and subtle and they are proud of it.

No one has ever conducted such an affair with this much discretion, and only the two of them know how.

He is standing, so you cannot see whoever it is he has come to meet. But you can hear them, clear as a bell.

"Can you stay long?"

Can you recognize my voice, Yuuki?

"Not tonight. Yuuki will be looking for me."

We talk about you, we do. But briefly, for we have other matters to attend to.

You hear me laugh and it is not a foreign thing to you, but you are shocked in your silence as he sits down and you are finally assured that your eyes are not playing tricks on you.

You watch him as he sits down, your precious Zero Kiryuu, and you watch with trepidation as he touches the side of my face with utter gentleness. You are too stunned to move.

"I'm sorry Kaname."

You may be his princess, Yuuki, and he may be your knight, but I am the dragon he must slay, the sorcerer he must vanquish, the evil king he must behead. He may protect you, but he will hate me, he will despise me, he will long for me with a passion the surpasses the mere flicker-- the mere tongue of fire-- that he holds in his heart for you.

I do not mean to be cruel, but the truth is that it takes only one moment for him to become mine.

He bares his neck for me-- has he ever done this for you princess? He has done this, and he has done many other things I wish not to tell you-- and I smile at the offer.

It is said to be taboo, this ritualistic sharing of blood, but what are we but living proof?

Have you ever heard him moan, Yuuki? Have you?

The smell of blood is in the air. I am thankful that Ichijou and Kain are responsible enough to keep everyone at bay... specially now...

"My turn..."

Do you hear me whisper? See me pull him on top of me?

What are you doing now, Yuuki? Still watching?

You thought we hated each other, didn't you?

"...Zero..."

Think again.

I can't help but gasp as his fangs penetrate my skin, as my blood is drained by his lips, his mouth, as I arch my body against his-- this desire consumes us both once again.

Have you ever known such ecstasy?

Only I hear you running away, your sobbing as clear to my ears as our actions are to your eyes. I disregard it, and pull his face towards mine-- we kiss and I enjoy it more than I should.

Our blood mingles together and I fancy seeing a brown haired, violet eyed boy as the result of such.

It is the dead of night, Yuuki.

Would you dare come again?

Would you dare watch us as we love each other under the moonless, the starless sky?

Would you dare question either of us?

Would you dare, I wonder, knowing now that he is mine?

FIN

Review...?