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It would always have ended up like this, Tatsuya in her arms, his hands in her hair with an unyielding grip.
There is nothing in the world but him for her. She mouths over his neck, his chest, teeth scraping hard down his skin.
Blood wells in her mouth, against his skin, blooming warm and red, and Hinata grins, hiding the curve of her mouth against her darling's skin, for this was something she’d caused to him, something that only she was allowed to do.
He is the only one for her, she knows, and she would do anything to make sure he stays by her side, and he, the same.
Tatsuya’s grip tightens in her hair as she drags her teeth down, as she opens him up.
Skin carves apart under her movements, and she can taste his fat on her tongue, thick and buttery, utterly melting in her mouth. She is sure, if she looked, his fat would be warm butter-yellow. She does not care to look, for Tatsuya sighs in content, and Hinata wants nothing more than to crack his chest open with her bare hands.
She wants to break his ribs, pull apart his lungs and devour his heart. She could make a home for herself there, and he would regenerate around her. They would be together and then, nothing in the world could separate them. He is made for her, and she, him.
But this, like this, her face buried into his chest, stained in blood, in gristle and gore, it is far better. Especially because he lets her do so. He lets her, his hands tangled in her hair, raven-locks curled around bloody fingers, the two of them intertwined.
She holds him– clutches him, really –hands supporting his back, his neck, as he drips onto the floor. His blood is warm. Deep rose-red and warm as it spatters onto her face, as she eats him alive, marrow and all. Parts of Tatsuya's lungs stick between her teeth, flesh squishing, bursting even, under them too, and he is not bothered by what she is doing. How could he be, when his own teeth are buried in her shoulder, trying so hard to eat her alive too?
Hianta breathes him in, uncaring of the way viscera floods her nose, for it only meant that he was even more a part of her and she, him.
And all of him would regenerate eventually, but here he is, flayed open for her and only her.