Random Oneshots

i. C#1: The Kiss of Freedom

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/WLuyHd5sQSU

I sobbed quietly, no longer struggling against the chains that held me in the room. Keeping me captive from the war raging mere miles from where I sat, they encircled me, the metallic smell of rusty iron invading my senses.

The room, or rather the cell, they held me in was plain and barren. Four chains extended from me, latching onto each of the four walls respectively. I grudgingly thanked them for that – the chains were longer than needed. I could move around the bottom half of the room freely (albeit needing a bit of effort.) When I moved to the middle, they made a cross.

Of course, I couldn't reach anywhere near the door, but I could move around enough that I could use the toilet and the mattress not so far away. I had wondered, briefly, who had been responsible for the small amount of kindness. I had not dwelled on it for too long.

I didn't know how long I had been here. All I knew was I'd mostly given up on escape long ago, accepting the fact that I wasn't going anywhere after suffering hundreds of bruises and cuts. It was ironic, really. The hero of their fairytale, giving up on saving the world.

How could I go on? How could I smile, and wave, and laugh and save as if I wasn't broken inside?

Nevertheless, it was what they all expected. And I was not so foolish as to put my selfish needs above the rest of the world's.

It was after dinner – after all, they weren't complete sadists, still giving me what I needed to stay alive – when I heard the door open. Sitting in the middle of the room, the tiny bit of hope I still had left in me sparked to life. Blinking the tears away from my eyes, I looked up and immediately looked away.

Of course.

Of course, he was coming to see me.

Why? I pondered briefly.

I scoffed. I knew why. To gloat, to boast, to show me the world that was in ruins because of his work and dedication. If this was a fairytale, he would be the villain. I dared not even think his name. It would only cause me more pain.

My former friend, teammate, stood there, leaning against the wall, surveying me with an emotionless expression on his face. I met his cold gaze.

"Why?"

It slipped out of my lips.

For a few moments, there was silence, and then he replied, "You know why."

I hated him with a passion. A passion no one else could ever replicate. However, there was still a small part of me that didn't quite hate him so much. I'd tried to hate him wholeheartedly, but I never could. And I think he knew.

As he watched me, I dropped my gaze to the floor. I couldn't bear to look at his chiselled face anymore.

"Free me. Please."

The last word came out as more of a ragged whisper.

Now, I watched him as he started towards me, and I scrambled backwards in shock. His lips pressed into a line, and he came closer, closer until I was pressed against the wall. His sharp gaze never left mine.

He was close. Too close.

As I stared at him, something flickered in his eyes, and his jaw set.

Before I could react, he pressed his lips to mine.

His kiss was passionate and full of fervour. I was limp with shock. It was unexpected and confusing; his lips moved against mine in a way I cannot deny had butterflies growing inside me. Warmth shot up my spine, and the sheer intensity of it found myself kissing him back. I did not understand what drove me to respond, but I didn't need to know.

His hands cupped my head; pulling me closer to him; deepening our embrace; although I knew it was wrong – oh god, did I need it more.

It was only when I felt something cold and sharp be pushed through my lips that I was lifted from my stupor.

He pulled away abruptly, and I simply stared. Stared, unable to process what had just happened. I felt the object in my mouth with my tongue.

It was a...key. A key?

I rechecked. Yes, it was a key.

He stood, eyes cloudy. He mumbled something I couldn't make out.

"Wha...I...what..." I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper. Red coated my cheeks as I looked up at the man before me. I was...confused, to say the least.

It was only then did the weight of his - or rather, our actions fall on me. He was a villain. He was...he was the bad guy. He was going to be responsible for the end of the world, and here I was, snogging him. I was a horrible person.

But then...why did I want it again?

His eyes cleared, and they locked with mine, his gaze piercing, full of words I couldn't, wouldn't understand.

"Free yourself."