[Malik suits this look, the warmth of his skin where embarassment has darkened it, the way his hair hangs down as he looks down on him. That pleased smile on his face, eyes bright with happiness. Bakura likes it.
Drawing Malik closer, he keeps his eyes focused on him. Laying there beneath him, white hair splayed against the golden sands like his own personal blanket underneath him, he swallows a little nervously. It's almost more of an intimate confession than Malik's half-admittance, in his eyes. But Bakura's never been less than bold, never been driven by his fears. He's no coward. And he isn't easily ruled by his emotions.]
I'm yours, Malik! There's no letting go of me now!
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Drawing Malik closer, he keeps his eyes focused on him. Laying there beneath him, white hair splayed against the golden sands like his own personal blanket underneath him, he swallows a little nervously. It's almost more of an intimate confession than Malik's half-admittance, in his eyes. But Bakura's never been less than bold, never been driven by his fears. He's no coward. And he isn't easily ruled by his emotions.]
I'm yours, Malik! There's no letting go of me now!