Cry For You

This is a companion story to Teardrinker, found here: http://games.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=29947 .

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You like it when I cry, don't you?

I don't know what else to think. There's no other reason that you'd confront me so often and say such hurtful things to me. You know that whenever you get tired of playing around with me and leave, I can never do anything but give in and simply let myself cry, no matter how much I hate to be so weak. I just can't help it, not after I finally realized how much you meant to me...no, how much you still mean to me even now, even when your soul has been destroyed by my own hand.

I don't understand it. Does this mean I love you?

Don't you know that I didn't want to sacrifice you? There was no other way. I couldn't have let Netto sacrifice Rockman, and I definitely couldn't let you be deleted. At least you're still alive now, even if you don't care about how I feel, even if you have become such a cruel, twisted being. If I had just stood by and let you be deleted...let you be killed...I could never forgive myself.

Even now, I can never forgive myself for what I've done to you.

I'm sitting alone, crying again, wishing a thousand times over that there had been some other way out and wondering how it would have changed things if there had been. Would you be here now? Would I be crying now? What would have happened in the end? I don't even know what's going to happen now that I've made my decision, and being so unsure isn't helping me to calm down at all; it's only making me more and more upset, and though I'm trying to hold myself back, I suddenly find myself staring at my PET and the first harsh sobs surprise me with how quickly they break loose. I can't stand this. I want to see you...no, I need to see you.

I need to know you're okay, even if you only want to hurt me.

When you appear before me, I don't know what to think, and instinct leads me to draw back as you reach for me and pull me close in a possessively tight grasp, pressing your lips to my tear-soaked cheek. What are you doing? I want to ask, but the only thing that escapes me is another sob as I begin to realize just how much power you hold over me. When did it come to this? When did I suddenly become so addicted to you? What's happened to me that I find myself craving this? And most of all...does this really mean I love you?

Some part of my mind is disgusted when you grab hold of my hand and press it against your obvious arousal, but even then, I can't bring myself to fight back and try to push you away. Instead, I allow you to do what you will with me, allow you to force my fingers closed over your suddenly-bare shaft and make me touch you, and I'm finding myself almost frightened at how sharply my awareness is centering on you. The feel of your skin beneath my fingers, your lips against my cheek as you drink down my tears, the sound of your sharp breaths as you rock your hips shamelessly against my hand to glean the stimulation you so obviously crave...it's so overwhelming that I can't stop crying, wondering dimly what you're going to do to me once you've satisfied yourself, once you've taken what you want from me.

By the time I feel the warmth of your climax against my hand, I'm in ecstacy.

You don't seem to want to pull back, but now that I've stopped crying, that seems to be the trigger. I can barely hold back my protest as you let go of me, slowly licking every last trace of tears from my cheeks before suddenly brushing your lips over mine, and something that's been screaming in my heart suddenly calms as I realize exactly what that was. It was a promise that you'll come back, that this will happen again...and I'm surprised to realize that I want it to happen again. I want you to control me, to make me yours, and I'll do just about anything to get it.

By the time you fade away, I'm trying not to smile at the thought that maybe I should cry for you more often.

~owari~