The Boy Is Mine.
not yours; but mine.
They’ve always been rivals.
But this was different. It was more personal to either than the card game or title as champion meant (because although he’d never admit it to anyone, especially Kaiba, Yami did take pride in the title as King of Games).
You need to give it up.
Ryou was Kaiba’s, not Yami’s. He wasn’t going to let the damn spiky-headed teen steal him away. No way in hell was that going to happen; he’s lost his title as the World Champion, his dignity, his God Card, his fucking pride, all to him. If there was one thing he wasn’t going to let go to Yami, it was Ryou.
He’s mine, he’s mine, he’s mine, he’s mine!
He found the former ‘pharaoh’ talking to the friendship-preaching brunette in the park, laughing with that sly look on his face. Clenching his fists, he made his way over, his expression a mixture of fury and possessiveness. His ice blue orbs met the not-so-surprised violets of Yami’s.
I’m sorry that you seem to be confused.
“Kaiba, what a pleasant surprise.” Some surprise it was, because he looked so shocked to see him approach him there.
“Back off of him, Motou,” his voice was full of venom and laced with menace, his eyes sharp icicles.
Yami laughed, his lips stretching into a conniving smirk. Leaning forward, his voice gruff, he stated as if it were an obvious fact, “He belongs to me.”
Kaiba raised his chin, looking down at the shorter of the two with scorn. He annunciated each word clearly, threateningly.
“The boy is mine.”
But this was different. It was more personal to either than the card game or title as champion meant (because although he’d never admit it to anyone, especially Kaiba, Yami did take pride in the title as King of Games).
You need to give it up.
Ryou was Kaiba’s, not Yami’s. He wasn’t going to let the damn spiky-headed teen steal him away. No way in hell was that going to happen; he’s lost his title as the World Champion, his dignity, his God Card, his fucking pride, all to him. If there was one thing he wasn’t going to let go to Yami, it was Ryou.
He’s mine, he’s mine, he’s mine, he’s mine!
He found the former ‘pharaoh’ talking to the friendship-preaching brunette in the park, laughing with that sly look on his face. Clenching his fists, he made his way over, his expression a mixture of fury and possessiveness. His ice blue orbs met the not-so-surprised violets of Yami’s.
I’m sorry that you seem to be confused.
“Kaiba, what a pleasant surprise.” Some surprise it was, because he looked so shocked to see him approach him there.
“Back off of him, Motou,” his voice was full of venom and laced with menace, his eyes sharp icicles.
Yami laughed, his lips stretching into a conniving smirk. Leaning forward, his voice gruff, he stated as if it were an obvious fact, “He belongs to me.”
Kaiba raised his chin, looking down at the shorter of the two with scorn. He annunciated each word clearly, threateningly.
“The boy is mine.”