Formal Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is the plot, the characters etc., under the work of Matsuri Hino or Vampire Knight (manga or anime). I do not own any of the copyrighted objects and brands that are mentioned in this series. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it all.

1) The Doll in the Corner

Pale porcelain skin, gems of sapphire set above high cheekbones, pink rosebud lips, and hair like gold gently hanging down, it was easy to mistake Rima for a doll.

Shiki knew better.

He didn't like dolls. Their skin was hard, cold, nothing like Rima's. Their hair was rough and unkept, often tangling but Rima's silky tresses were never anything except, perfect.

Dolls showed no emotions, only a passive stare impressed upon a blank face. Rima's expression constantly changed; an angry glint, a tiny frown, and if you were lucky, a rare smile that brightened up your whole world.

Dolls were delicate things that needed taking care of, but Rima was the opposite of that. She was fierce, unimaginably stubborn and needed no one to defend her.

Dolls smelled like dust, food stains from chubby clumsy fingers and the remainder of a plastic scent of something that once was new. It was nowhere near Rima's delectable fragrance or the scent of her blood.

Dolls were motionless, lifeless, made to be displayed and admired. Rima astounded concert halls, she delighted her audience on the dance floor and never failed her fans when modelling.

Dolls were all the same, manufactured, mass produced. Rima was incomparable.

In Shiki's world, Rima was the moon which shone brightly upon his dark night. She understood him beyond others.

1b) A Puppet by the Wall

Bright coloured hair, painted faces, a rubber ball nose. Puppets were nothing next to Shiki's looks: ruffled burgundy hair, cobalt eyes hinted with silver; the makings of a model.

Rima didn't like puppets. She didn't care who said he acted like one.

Shiki was Shiki.

Puppets smelled like dust, old fabric and the lingering sweat from the tireless hands on the inside. It couldn't compare to Shiki's scent or the luscious call of his blood.

Puppets couldn't express emotion, and although Shiki was hard to read, Rima knew his moods like the back of her hands. It was in the details: the way his eyes narrowed, the tug at his lips, the scrunching of his nose.

Puppets couldn't control their bodies, and although Shiki was controlled by that Pureblood bastard of a father, Shiki had fought back, for her.

Puppets were boring, distasteful things and Shiki was neither. No one rivalled his love for Pocky or sleeping, nor his passion for modelling.

Puppets were common. Shiki, revered as a half Pureblood, was without equal.

Without Shiki in her life, Rima would be lost. He gave her purpose, he was her source of inspiration, of emotion and above all else, he understood her.

He was her life.

1c) Reality

She was there for him when no one else was.

He accepted her for who she was, without question.

He was hers.

She was his.

It was as simple.