FicWad

Disclaimer: I disclaim. InuYasha, its characters, and all related indicia are sole property of creator Rumiko Takahashi and her affiliates. No monetary profit is sought or gained in the writing of this piece.


Author's Note: This piece was written for MF_Sanctuary week 23. The theme was "Lolita". I think this should be warning enough. But just in case, "Dun read if you dun dig." That is all.

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Reconnection






He didn't understand it . . .

He didn't even like kids.

So why when this one arrived, bundled up in white like some rosy-cheeked little snow angel, had he felt a lead weight he'd never noticed he carried fall away from his bones?

Why when she made a mess of his ever-pristine kitchen making the unexpected snack she carried shyly into his study could he only kiss her cheek, every word lost on his tongue?

Why when she all but tackled him in the park, flinging her arms around his waist and knocking him, his expensive new overcoat and all their shopping into a snowdrift, had he laughed with more feeling than he'd known in his 23 years?

Why when she slipped into his bed that stormy night, curled into his arms and kissed the corner of his mouth ever so sweetly, did he respond as though she were anything but a child . . .

Why wasn't she afraid, or distressed, or confused . . . ?

Why a smoldering heat crept across his nerves, bled through his flesh where her body slid against his own . . .

Why her mouth was so wet, so warm, so hungry and so very small . . . Why her skin was so soft and flushed when her clothes came away in his fingers, why his body was clutched and kissed and explored by such eager little hands, such ravenous lips and teeth and a tiny, pointed tongue. Why the birthmarks he traced down her stomach so resembled timeworn scars; why the sweat collected on the back of her thigh was salty yet sweet; why she welcomed his probing mouth in those most intimate places . . . Why she sought to return the favor . . . In the end, he collapsed and arched, gasping and sweating as her tiny form rocked them both into completion, connected by friction but not penetration.

Why when she fell, spent upon his chest, he gathered her close and held her even as she slept . . .

Why he never wanted to let her go, and why a strange-familiar voice in the back of his head echoed:

Never again . . .




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OWARI

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