F r a g m e n t s . . .
[a prologue]

A glass bottle shatters against the wall, jagged shards scattering across the apartment floor.  They glitter like gems, but are the color of poison.  Anubis spins on his heel, pacing, back and forth, back and forth.  The buckles on his high leather boots glint in the overhead lights.  His arms gesture wildly, and he shouts, “I hate you!  I hate you!  You should just disappear!  Crawl into a hole and die!  Plunge a knife into your gut!  Fall off a cliff!  Go swimming in a pool of ravenous sharks!  Just die!”  He claws at his hair; long nails snag in the tight, dark curls.  Fangs are bared, sensuous lips pulled back in a snarl.  “I hate you!  DIE!”  

“If I could will my heart to stop, I would.”  Shiva sits on the couch in front of which Anubis is pacing.  He’s leaning back against the arm, his knees bent and his hands folded, clenched tightly in his lap.  He stares straight ahead, not looking at the other demon.  “Then, perhaps, I would not have to suffer this annoying ache.”  His voice is quiet, and if Anubis hadn’t been watching Shiva’s face, he wouldn’t have known the paler demon was speaking.  He wouldn’t have stopped in the midst of his rampage-like pacing, wouldn’t be standing still now, simmering silently in his fury.  He stomps towards the couch, pushes Shiva back, and straddles his waist.  

Shiva does nothing but stare blankly at Anubis’s exotic eyes, the near black color, the dark lashes, the kohl that outlines their almond shape and is drawn away from the corners to give them a narrower look.  Shiva’s eyes are slightly rounder and green in color, like the leaves in a lush canopy, flecked with brown.  His skin is pale; against it, his blood always looks like carnation petals strewn on cream-colored silk.  Conversely, Anubis’s complexion is a warm brown, now flushed with intoxication.  Shiva knows that Anubis laments the fact that alcohol doesn’t affect his mind as it does his body.  Sometimes Shiva laments it too, because he hates knowing that Anubis is never truly drunk during these times.  Anubis’s hands grip Shiva’s shoulders painfully, nails digging into his flesh through his shirt.  

“Then do it,” Anubis hisses.  “Die!  Kill yourself!”  He growls and snarls, “But you won’t—you’re just a coward!  You’re weak!  And I hate you!”

“I am…” Shiva murmurs, “I am a coward.  I…I am afraid of never seeing your face again.”  He reaches up slowly, and his slender fingers touch the side of Anubis’s face.  They run along the high cheekbones and down his warm cheek.  Anubis’s eyes leap with anger, and he turns his head, snapping his teeth at Shiva’s fingers.  He catches them, and his fangs puncture the skin as he bites down.  While tears collect like dew at the corners of Shiva’s eyes, he watches the blood roll down his hand, and his wrist, and eventually his arm.  Anubis won’t let go and glares fiercely enough that Shiva’s afraid his skin will burn.  He’s accustomed to the pain, but no matter it still hurts, still brings tears to his eyes, which Anubis seems to rejoice in.  After a moment, he releases Shiva’s fingers and swallows the metallic tang of Shiva’s blood.  

Shiva’s breath is erratic as he pushes back his tears.  His face is hot and his throat burns and his eyes sting.  Anubis’s weight on top of him is crushing, the hate and anger in his eyes like a knife through Shiva’s heart.  Past that he sees pain, as he looks deeper into Anubis’s eyes than anyone else will probably ever get to see.  “I hate you,” Anubis whispers.

“I know.”  Shiva closes his eyes and calms himself, and then murmurs, “But I love you.”

[end prologue]