✨️ Heartless Dress 💄KimChay Au 🗡 ✨️

Enemy Territory

(Welcome here <3 Thank you for still coming, wishing you the greatest day/night <3)

Vegas had acted. He had acted so well to not show his boiling nerves to his father. He should be glad, so glad that he got a way to get the jewelry. He got a wonderful idea by asking Kim. They both had business together and the King was more than delighted about the idea. And Vegas should be too. He should until he could go away from the room. Run, fight, punch. He wanted everything to be erased around him. Vegas knew his father so well, he couldn't talk about Porsche to him. He needed the jewelry. He couldn't just describe his plans. His goals. He needed to do it. To do it and to show that he, for real, was the worthy Prince of the kingdom, destined to spread their power after his father's death. And yet Vegas wasn't even sure that the King would want to die and leave his place. He would fight death in his skeleton clothes.

 Everything collapsed for him now. Everything. He should have get his father's trust. He should have been looked positively. He was worth it, he would be worth it. But he was here. Not being able to take the jewelry and he couldn't tell it to his father because he knew he would be suspicious after, Vegas worked alone in the dark with men. If he had come with that thing he considered as stupid, his father would have love his courage, his strength, his strategic mind and his loyalty. But now, all he could get was nothing. He was in a violent and demoniac need to spit away his anger and Porsche was just here, at the right place. If he didn't wait. 

If he didn't let the days Kinn asked, he would have win. He would have win. Win. Win.

 It was ringing in his ears and laughing at him, so loudly, how much he could never win in life. He took his sword. He would end him. He would cut his skin until he wouldn't feel that nauseous feeling in his stomach. Until his eyes would only be able to see blood, blood splashing the room to make him forget that he was himself red of anger.

He only cut, the bed.

He cut the void.

How was it possible when Porsche was handcuffed in the bed. How could he roll from it ? Vegas giggled insanely, loudly showing sign of his no control state, when turning around he saw Porsche, hands free. Now that he thought about it, his hands were hidden under the sheets when he came back. All of his body was mostly under, it should have been suspicous, it should. But Vegas found himself, once again, failing miserably. He should have knew that he couldn't let Kinn with the man, and more, that he shouldn't trust anyone more than himself for those tasks. 

The guards. The guards should have betrayed him for letting him free for days. Failed. Failed. Failing himself. He should have been made for this but he was miserably proving that he was worth the underground of praise, the garbage of life and the tomb of the useless.

Porsche didn't trust Kinn at all, he had been waiting. Waiting. Faking, with the handcuff still around his wrists and ankles but not closed. He had been playing well in front of all the guards but he knew that Vegas was more dangerous and he didn't play. He just waited for the occasion to try his chance. He began to backwalk to the door, slowly, seeing Vegas losing his mind even more. Porsche ran. Ran wishing that the sword wouldn't have time to pierce through him. He needed to be free, to go away, to find Porchay, Joy, and to go home. He needed to live for them and Porsche, after passing the door frame, heard a loud and high sounds. He turned around and just saw two swords, Vegas protecting himself from someone, he didn't know who attacked him. No guards were outside, just him.