[Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz, I know. Please don't sue, I mean no harm.]

Part IV
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Aah… There's my kitten now.
He's talking to someone, explaining what he's doing here, alone on a… whatever night it is. He knows I'm here, his gaze flickers to me every so often, watching from out of the corner of his eye. He's waiting, trying to decide whether to break up or stay. How cute.
As I listen in to their conversation the emotions seeping out in little tendrils from him do their best to snare me into it, to go over to him and drag him out of here and to where I want him. But I won't do that, no matter how tempting it is – I need him to come to me. As he's just explaining, I need the rush it gives me to feed off his feelings like some damn vampire or something. His thoughts aren't like honey, his thoughts taste more like whiskey, dark and strong and has a certain edge to them that I haven't found anywhere else… Add to that the fact that he's in love with me… The ultimate rush, to control him like this. No matter how many times I mock him for his feelings, he still comes back – every single time. He could have put a stop after that first night, but he didn't. Neither I nor he knows why he do that, why he lets me trample him and push him nose first into the ground. I don't care – I like that power and until he's really ready to leave, I won't leave him alone. Perhaps not even then. I like my toys – and him especially. He fascinated me from the beginning – my mirror image in so many ways and still he's so separate from me that it's almost funny. Correction: it is.
And now he's angsting over the fact that I'm sleeping with others on the side. How stupid could one man be? Of course I do – I don't give a damn about him in the way he wants me to. I don't. How could I? And to hear all that crap about 'Romeo & Juliet' and the way they died for their love… It makes me sick. I'm not stupid enough to do that; love or die. The only reason I'm coming back to him is because he's so easy and because more often than not it pisses Crawford off. He wasn't happy with me the first time I returned home after breaking the poor kitten's heart – but for some reason, he never say anything anymore. Merely raise his eyebrows and stare. Sometimes, there's an amused hum to his thoughts, one he can't really keep back and that makes me wonder… It's not like I'm betraying my team like the kitten is angsting over every time we meet – they couldn't care less and neither could I; what I'm doing outside missions isn't their business – but poor old Braddy-boy will still look at me in that way as I'm stumbling in later tonight. Raise his eyebrows and stare. Well, good for him – I'm going to be too tired to care at that point. One thing you can say about him though, is that he really wears me out – both physically and emotionally.
Hehe… The kitten's angsting again… Poor, poor little one… He wants to be appreciated… Of course I appreciate him – he's always giving me enough to laugh at what with the way his ears droop and his heart sink every time I leave. He wants me to stay even if he would never ask me straight out. Every time I get dressed and leave, a little more dies inside of him. He's too dependant – on me, on his teammates… On sex, his cigarettes… Really, he should really stop smoking – not even yours truly here smoke that much – but he doesn't have the willpower to do that. Perhaps he would if I asked him to…
And perhaps I should…
He's finishing up now, he's just going to down the rest of his drink and walk over here, that defeated light in his eyes as he do. Here kitty kitty…

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End of Part IV.

The sequel is titled "... A Pair of Star-crossed Lovers..." and I've begun the first parts of it.