uoıʇıɹɐdsıᗡ

ᴄɪɴQᴜᴀɴᴛᴜɴᴏ - ᴘᴀꜱᴛ

He tore apart, my paper heart, with words that I was dreading. Now all that's left, of love unsaid, is dead and made for shredding. Like cursed confetti, tossed and thrown, at a doomed and dismal wedding. ~ Michael Faudet.

Valentinia:

Past (2 years and two months ago).

My gaze was focused- entranced solely on the man sat before me; Elia. Some- most people would describe him as a brave and courageous man for going through such a dishonouring and poignant experience and still coming out of it without crumbling and losing himself.

Me, however, I knew that what he told me- what he is telling me isn't the whole, truthful telling of his tales. He wasn't lying.... no, he was telling the truth I could see that much from just glancing into his orbs; mourning. He was still recovering from what was most likely the most tragic event of his life. But, they also held another emotion, buried deep within the nest of his eyes.

Deceit. He was withholding something, something that I knew held significant importance to the incident that had occurred. Once again, he wasn't lying, he was misleading me. Misleading me into thinking that something so tragic had occurred, so that he could receive my pity. But, he didn't want my empathy or condolences, no he did not.

Elia wanted something much more, he wanted me to help him in his vengeance towards Valentin. He wanted me to take him there; to him. Not to kill him... no, he didn't want to kill him, he didn't want the concentrated pungence of crimson to stain his hands.

He wanted me to kill him, and maybe that was because I had already experienced the agony of having the rich liquid drenched within my palms. Which was true, I had Acer's and now possibly Alessio's blemishing my once pure skin. However, it could also be because he believed that I needed to do it; to kill him.

I didn't. However, it wasn't the question of whether I wanted to execute him or not. It was down to need. Did I need to kill him, to feel completely free of his essence? Was I capable of such a deed?

But, was it really about me and what I wanted or needed? No. No, it was not. It was about the necessity of the world's wellbeing, it was a fact that the population would be safer if he no longer existed. If he no longer breathed the oxygen, in which we were blessed with inhaling every moment of our short lives.

Me and every person within this world knew that he was slowly, but surely poisoning- corrupting our earth with his immorality. It would end with nothing other than melancholy and despondency if he continued with the vigour that he was displaying.

He held astute to his advantage, he knew who to manipulate and how to exploit, to get what he desires; wants.

It troubled me that I knew that it was inevitable. Valentin Morelli was going to get what he wants, he has everything to achieve it and nothing less. I knew what he wanted; control, and utmost role of power and authority.

Me? Well, maybe right now, he loves a challenge. But, not forever. I knew that though, I wasn't naive or in denial into thinking that he would want me and only me. Once he obtains his thirst for greed and jurisdiction, he will want more, more than what I could have ever offered him. And he will remember me as nothing but an apparition of his past.

The greed for wanting more and more will be cursed upon him, a characteristic that leads to a lonesome, impending death. Surrounded by nothing but emptiness and a hollow sensation of misery.

He will never find happiness or experience the epiphany of being loved or needed by someone. He will lose everything that ever once made him whole or relevant. He will never encounter the feeling of shattering my being or heart because my heart never pulsed for him.