because rayne is obsessed with persona 3 right now
Her Evoker glistens in the moonlight, flowing in from her window and illuminating her frail looking figure on the bed as she curls around the cold metal weapon. She hadn't moved from her position for the last three hours, replaying through a entire theater of memories...of him, of them, of his last day, and their last time.
"My dearest," comes the breathy voice, and it is both calming and torturous to hear it again, even as she remembers him laying beside her, remembers the way his fingers moved through her hair, remembers how it felt to have his body pressed flush against hers, finally opening her eyes and seeing so clearly his and how they stared right into her soul--
Even when he isn't there.
And then she loses his memory for a moment, flinching. Those eyes. They're haunting her, wanting her, even as she wanted him too. She closes her eyes again, repeating the cycle of remembering him.
"You're gone," she says, and she knows how broken her words were. "You've left me forever. Please...stop doing this, Ryoji..."
Of course there is no answer. She isn't expecting one. But she is desperate for one even when she doesn't want one.
"My dearest," murmurs her imagination, and she feels his lips against her throat, moving down...pressing against her heart, kissing against the curve of her breast. Catching a hold of her Evoker with one hand and pressing it into hers even as his other caresses her cheek. "Please..."
No, she tells him. Never.
And he's anguished, so anguished that she'd chosen what she'd chosen. He would have died for her, let her call all of her Personas to vanquish him, endured it and fallen at her feet happily if only to let her live her last days in peace. But she is adamant, and if she wasn't, then she wasn't the girl he'd fallen in love with.
"My dearest," someone sobs, and she clings to her Evoker like they'd clung to each other when they knew they'd have to part.
"My dearest," she echos, and her grip on her Evoker tighens even more. She feels, imagines a gentle touch guiding her fingers to the trigger, helping her lift the gun to her temple.
If she was going to fight...he was going to leave her with the last thing he could to help her do so. Because he hadn't really left her forever like she'd imagined, or like he'd imagined. They were too tightly connected to be apart, too much of each other to ever be considered separate entities.
"Thanatos."
And as the giant Persona, dark and foreboding, hovered over her in her small room, she smiled. Because he was back. This was one part of him, as it was one part of her, and she finally realized it. She reached up and lightly touched the strong jaw of the harbinger of Death, laying a small kiss there.
"My dearest."
"My dearest," comes the breathy voice, and it is both calming and torturous to hear it again, even as she remembers him laying beside her, remembers the way his fingers moved through her hair, remembers how it felt to have his body pressed flush against hers, finally opening her eyes and seeing so clearly his and how they stared right into her soul--
Even when he isn't there.
And then she loses his memory for a moment, flinching. Those eyes. They're haunting her, wanting her, even as she wanted him too. She closes her eyes again, repeating the cycle of remembering him.
"You're gone," she says, and she knows how broken her words were. "You've left me forever. Please...stop doing this, Ryoji..."
Of course there is no answer. She isn't expecting one. But she is desperate for one even when she doesn't want one.
"My dearest," murmurs her imagination, and she feels his lips against her throat, moving down...pressing against her heart, kissing against the curve of her breast. Catching a hold of her Evoker with one hand and pressing it into hers even as his other caresses her cheek. "Please..."
No, she tells him. Never.
And he's anguished, so anguished that she'd chosen what she'd chosen. He would have died for her, let her call all of her Personas to vanquish him, endured it and fallen at her feet happily if only to let her live her last days in peace. But she is adamant, and if she wasn't, then she wasn't the girl he'd fallen in love with.
"My dearest," someone sobs, and she clings to her Evoker like they'd clung to each other when they knew they'd have to part.
"My dearest," she echos, and her grip on her Evoker tighens even more. She feels, imagines a gentle touch guiding her fingers to the trigger, helping her lift the gun to her temple.
If she was going to fight...he was going to leave her with the last thing he could to help her do so. Because he hadn't really left her forever like she'd imagined, or like he'd imagined. They were too tightly connected to be apart, too much of each other to ever be considered separate entities.
"Thanatos."
And as the giant Persona, dark and foreboding, hovered over her in her small room, she smiled. Because he was back. This was one part of him, as it was one part of her, and she finally realized it. She reached up and lightly touched the strong jaw of the harbinger of Death, laying a small kiss there.
"My dearest."