Pretty Thing

He was cold, always so cold no matter what the situation was. While in a battle, his gold eyes would hold nothing in them but careful calculation, while listening to someone talk, he would stare either at your face or away from it, nothing shining in those eyes. They would swallow up any light that tried to reflect off of them, pits that allowed nothing to escape.

Even his embrace was cold, a stone that wrapped around my form, silver hair reminding me of moonlight, skin delicate enough to make me think of a woman covered hard muscle that demanded to be acknowledged as male. His words even as he held me close were cold, empty, devoid of anything but the gentle cadence that was his tone. So many empty words, so cold, everything was cold when it came to him.

There was no love, nothing when it was the both of us, alone in the trees. Nothing but his hands, one gripping my arm behind me, the other pressed against the small of my back as he moved, thrusting in and out of my tight passage. His words still bite through me, yet I took it, I closed my eyes, refusing to look up and see his distant expression while he stared off into the trees before us. He took no pleasure in what we did, only did it because he desired to.

He refused to let anyone near me, his scent would stick to my skin for days after he leaves each time, warning off any males that would be interested. I was property, his alone, something pretty to have displayed for all to see, but not allowed to be touched by anyone. He felt nothing but possessive over my beauty. He was not moved, he was not caught in the act of caring about me, no, he wanted to own me because he couldn't bear the thought of letting someone else have the right to say I was theirs.

Despite his cold exterior, his stone heart and icy gaze, I loved him. His beauty shocked me every time he appeared, always at night, always during the full moon, as if he knew the effect it had. I still remember our first meeting, I had mistaken him for a woman until his scent hit my nose that is.

He had stepped out from between the trees that surrounded my little home, gold eyes watching me as I hastily covered my naked form after stepping from the warm waters of my personal hot spring. I couldn't tear my gaze away as he moved forward, cold stare assessing my form as I tried to hide it behind a cloth, wrapping it tight to me and clutching the edges tight.

"Who are you?" His voice caught me off-guard, almost warm with it's tone, but underneath it, not a single hint of emotion. Simple calculation, he was empty as his eyes and I shivered at this realization before answering. "Tai." One of his eyebrows raised at the simple name, I refused to give him much more than that considering I doubted he even wanted to hear it.

"Why do you live here?" He continued to question me, his figure standing only a few feet away from me, but blocking my path to the small hut I called home, earning a narrowed glare at him from me, only to be met with a cold, empty stare. "Because I do. Why do you even want to know?"

His silence earned another shiver from me, hands clutching the cloth tighter before a hand snapped out, wrapping around one of my wrists and pulling me forward so he could inhale my scent closer, his proud nose brushing the skin of my inner wrist lightly before dropping it and staring down at me from his impressive height. "You live in my territory. Anything within the Western lands is mine to know about."

This earned a shocked gasp of surprise from me as I stared up at him, this man, regal in all his right, was the Lord Shesshomaru that ruled these lands? Impossible, I had heard he never bothered with anyone that lived there, in fact, no one knew what he looked like because he refused to reveal who he was when he did speak to someone. Yet here he was, standing in front of me after announcing who he was. There was no doubt in my mind who he was at the cold, stare he sent me. Demanding respect without offering anything in return.

"A pleasure to meet you, My Lord. But I would rather like to continue our conversation after dressing." I swallowed back the scathing tone that threatened to slip through my words, leaving them flat and lifeless while I shifted on my feet nervously, waiting for him to move.

"Your clothes will not be required for our meeting." Those words, simple, empty, cold sent a thrill of fear through me. Of course, he wasn't the first that threatened to claim me, but he was the first to do so with me knowing full well I didn't have the power to fight him off. It was rare for demons to even require emotion for mating. I was a rare one, I demanded to be respected, to love before giving anything in return. Yet here this empty man stood, demanding I hand over the one thing I had left of myself.

And I did without a second thought. His beauty blinded me to what he would do to my heart. I foolishly believed that maybe he hid everything too well, that perhaps he had been watching me for a long time and just now gathered the wit to finally speak to me. And he let me have these delusions for a while before coldly shattering them one night.

One hand pressed to the bark of a tree, the other held back by one of his in our usual position. He refused to look at me while he claimed what was his. I tried to bite back the moans as pleasure jolted up my spine, knowing he wouldn't enjoy it as much if I did. "You love me." His voice cut through the fog of pleasure in my mind, making me frown in confusion, staring at the bark of the tree I clawed into with my left hand.

"You give me your body with love in your eyes, yet you seem to assume I love you in return." His empty words were dripping over my skin, cooling the passion and leaving a semblance of fear and sadness behind that I tried to desperately block out as he continued to thrust into me, the pace not changing, his voice not even strained with the effort of what he was doing.

"I do not love you, or your body. You are a possession, nothing more than something I want to claim. Your heart and emotions mean nothing to me. You will do well to remember this." He said finally, jerking to a stop inside as he spilled his seed, jolting slightly before pulling out completely and releasing his hold on me so I could slump to the ground, a panting mess as I stared up at him with confused tears in my eyes.

"You mean nothing to me other than a possession." His clawed hand reached out to grasp my chin and turn my face up to stare at his empty eyes. Such a fool for thinking he hid anything in them, he was as empty as a dry well, nothing there, not even a shadow of emotion could live in his soul and dead heart. "Your beauty is striking, and I want no one else to see it. You are mine, my toy to do with as I please. Remember this next time I return."

With that said, he straightened up and fixed his clothing before striding off into the dark of the forest that surrounded my home, with me still curled up at the base of the tree I had been fucked against, naked, cold and crying over what he had said.

Yet I still allow his hands to touch me, to excite me, his empty words fall on my ears and making me cry each time he returns. Perhaps I am a masochist, perhaps I enjoy the pain he gives my heart and soul with each visit he makes. Then again, maybe he is a Sadist, gathering his pleasure not from my body, but from the way he leeches the emotions from me little by little. Soon I'll be nothing like him, an empty shell for him to play with.

A toy, a pretty thing to show but not touch by anyone else. Held in his cold hands as they slowly squeeze the life from me. My heart? Shattered long ago, my soul? Fled when he spoke those words to the air, empty like him. Yet...

I love him. I love the sweet nothings I pretend he says. His empty eyes, his cold words and view of the world around him. I love him.

Just a pretty thing indeed.