Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this story and make no claims to them. The world I'm writing in, and the people that inhabit it, belong to Matsuri Hino. This story is strictly for entertainment, not for profit—no copyright infringement was intended.

Chapter One: Heart-wrenching Looks

His body was hot, pressing down on hers with an urgency she had never felt from him before. She could feel the steady beat of his heart against her chest, the strength of his hands as one cradled her neck and the other held her wrist in a vice-like grip. She was prepared for the pain, and yet the sharp jab that went through her as his fangs pierced her neck was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Suddenly, it hit her—there was a difference, this time; this time, she wanted him.

That thought caused enough of a jolt that she pushed back on his chest with both of her hands, giving her just enough leverage to squirm away from him. Her heart was beating very fast, now, and she rushed to the opposite corner of the elevator, her dusky hair streaming out behind her. It was comical, really; no matter how far she edged away, in this small little box, she'd never be a foot or two away from him.

The collar of her coat had been ripped open, revealing her pale, swan-like neck. Two indents, shallow even to her own measure, allowed her thick blood to stream over her magnolia-petal skin. Her pale eyes roamed the room wildly, trying to look anywhere but at the wild, unchained look in his.

Why…?—But it was impossible to ask that question, now. Things were too far gone. She had let her guard down, and this was the price she had paid for it. But then, why? Why was she remembering the way his smile, when he looked at her, became so gentle? The unassuming, unconcerned way that he spoke to her? And, most of all, the feel of his hands against her skin, the touch of his lips against her neck?

Stop, stop, stop. She couldn't think like that. It was impossible…she couldn't do it. And yet, somehow, she felt as though she was about to weep. Gradually, painfully, she raised her gaze to look into his amber eyes. The look she found in them almost shattered her self-control.

His reddish-gold hair was more mussed than normal, and her own blood was on his lips. His fangs were still dyed the crimson color of her. But his eyes…his eyes! She had never meant to make him look like that.

"Ruka…" his voice trailed off, and a single tear escaped her and tumbled down her cheek. "I'm so sorry…"

No. Don't be sorry. Wasn't it her fault? Hadn't she led him to this? So why was he sorry? Why was he giving her that look that was about to break her heart?

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the prologue to my first Ruka—x—Akatsuki fanfic, "Captive Reverie." These two are by far my favorite VK pairing, so I really hope to do them justice. This chapter is in a different style than the rest of the story, which will switch to a more distant third-person point of view. The next chapter will take the story back twenty-four hours to trace how we got to this point. I hope you stick with me, and enjoy it! As always, comments, critiques, questions, and any other type of feedback are always greatly appreciated.