Stolitz FanFic

Eyes That Glow Red

In a place like this, one doesn't often consider the implication that a concept such as love may actually exist, as usually all you really get are sinners, freaks and horny little imps set on causing chaos for Lucifer himself.
But I've seen it, oh yes. Seen it first hand on numerous occasions, in fact, I believe I've felt it. First, when I was a young and foolish child excited for what the seven rings had in store for me, gifted a powerful book by a a terrifying figure I called my father, a man of many shapes. I remember that day, oh how it is to experience heartbreak and love on the same day. Broken by my own blood, after being made aware of a marriage I had no say in, and repaired again by a little imp with no discernible talent, who made me chuckle nonetheless.
Sadly, I only met that child once, for the rest of my adolescence would be spent studying my
grimoire, attending royal events and presenting myself as I should have always been; a Demon Prince of the Ars Goetia, a powerful man.
But how could I maintain such power when constantly belittled by the woman I was betrothed? Tossed around like I was nothing, treated as lesser than everything, even the little creatures she so despised.
I believe that's why it happened so easily, this feeling of love, in all ways I was desperate for it, for something more than this life, a chance to be happy.
Who asks to be happy in Hell?
All but there he appeared, at perhaps the perfect time, perhaps the worst, I don't know anymore. What an evening, even on these moonless nights I can replay every beat of it, hear again every noise and feel every nerve tingle like it was happening in the moment. An imp, what my peers would call a "lesser being", stumbling his way around my bedside, quick to words.
I know now what he was really after, not me but my book, but it doesn't matter, this feeling remains all the same.
It skips through me when my phone buzzes, warms my chest when my wife is screaming, trickles down my entire body when his name flashes in my mind.
There are times I feel it may fade; such as when he doesn't respond, or during the long gaps
I do not see him, but in truth, one image floods it all back, and any sense of self I have washes away.
I am no Prince, I am a failure. That's what she says, that's what they'll all say. Though does being feared equal being loved? I know which I would rather have. You.
You, Blitzø, ex clown, current killer, an unstable man in an unstable world wreaking havoc and pursuing a dream only you would have thought of. You act so cold, I wish I could see your quietest moments, I wonder what you feel in your heart when you look at me? Is it the same? Does it compare to the ache I fight against? You are all to me, you know, I believe you saved me. How could you not see it? Do you choose not to see it?
Once a month you come to me, often I come to you and though you deny me, the things you say in our weakest moments must hold some truth.
You've called me yours before, do you remember?
You're pretty little thing.
I believe you meant for me not to hear, as I was wrapped tightly head to toe and you were mumbling, but I have my ways, as you've learned of course.
So tell me, please, what must I do? There is nothing for me here now, only her and I cannot leave her, so I cannot leave at all. Shall she and I depart this realm? Live amongst the stars she loves? Would you attest to this? Would you let me go?
How selfish of me, you would be proud.
But Blitzø, I am rambling. Before the night ends, though you will not know I asked, could you please call my name? Simply say it.
I will listen.