Yours Truly, Highness (An OCD Experience)

Libertine

Do you dream?

Do you ever dream, let's say, that one day it will be all fine and well for you and me?

Maybe one day, you will see. You will see who is worthy to deserve you.

Yes, you may not qualify the age of full-responsibility to take me in, but I am not asking with a romantic air of pride.

I am simply asking you to be my friend.

Because you are my ideal quintessence of a living being who can protect and nurture others in need. I, in return, would like to be there for you and be the best I ever wanted to be.

Although you are nothing but a virtually pixelated character that cannot be perpetuated further, I feel as if you have once existed in the planes of reality, having just been brought back to life in a spark of flickering, a finger snap of which your fragility measures.

I am afraid, I am terribly afraid to lose you again in the unknown corners where darkness resides. Even the brightest flame dies in there.

So please, don't go...

Don't leave me alone in the dark...

* * *

I was completely speechless, save for my dumbfounded, gawking face. I smacked myself back and forth, I tugged my cheeks, bit my fingers, wiped my eyes, but nothing could make me unsee the impeccable body of a human-like feline standing in front of me. Every little detail about her was one and the same with her designed concept. 'T-this is perfect. PERFECT. LIKE FUCKING PERFECT!' My brain's childish screams sent shrills down my entire body. My spine chilled as if it was once made of warm flesh. Thump after thump went my pounding heart the more I looked at her.

No. I couldn't even get my eyes off her!

Jesus fucking Christ on a half-assed motorbike...

All I was doing at the moment was witnessing the actual Blaze the Cat reading my paper full of obsessive thoughts on her. I laughed hysterically to myself because all the thoughts I have written on her were more than immature innuendos with egotistic imaginations on how her character development should progress. Hell, even fanfictions and some stupid shipping charts earned their spotlight on there.

By then, I didn't even care if Blaze wanted to roast me alive or claw me to death by the throat. I was just too caught up by the fact that she was, indeed, real.

Well, I had my moment until she crumpled it up herself and the rest was history. My eyes trailed after the paper's burnt crisps of rubbish before completely vanishing altogether. She proceeded to glare at me, a glare like a typical domestic pussycat that meant no funny business.

'Wait, is Blaze even domestic? She's independent and rules over other people but she is civilized, what the hell is even the meaning of "domestic" in that case then?' My mind bombarded me with these useless and irrelevant questions, but I felt the urge to seek answers despite not being in the right situation to do so. I mean, the dictionary is in my bookshelf a couple of feet away, I can like easily get up and fetch it, right? Not like the fictional princess was going to pounce on me or anything like that. What would she be mad at me for? She's not even real, chillax.

'Chill the fuck out, Claude, chill. You're just looking at her lethal claws that somehow never damages her gloves, they must be superelastic or some shit. The worst'll happen is that she's gonna slit your poor throat open and leave your body to rot.'

'Wait a minute, fuck me...'

Raising her right arm, she clenched her fingers into a fist. A ball of fire, transparent, but still pure fire, soon appeared on her fist. There was no need to say it, but she was not letting me get away with this perverted bullshit. Welp, at least she's gonna burn me alive.