the cruel irony of a prophetic love

Chapter 01

Such a...strange love.

A...twisted love.

Love came in many different forms. Family. A best friend. Maybe a job, or a treasured belonging. But how can one forget the love of that...special someone. A significant other, husband or wife. It's safe to assume that he was under that category. But no matter how deep he looked into it, there was a piece that was...completely missing. Then again, it wasn't like it belonged there anyway. In fact, if he were to sit here any longer, he was going to lose himself. The whole puzzle will fall apart.

It wasn't right. He shouldn't be going down this road. The feeling of holding their hand should be sending pleasure up his arm, warming his chest and dripping down his spine in a pond of honeydew. But instead he felt...cold. There was ice crawling up his skin and an emptiness in his soul. A brush on the lips should have been soft and heated, but he felt he was suffocating, drowning, choking underwater and the surface was freezing over. No. Way. Out.

Inhale. Exhale. Poised. Inhale. Exhale. Disciplined. Inhale. Exhale. A warm smile.
Inhale. Exhale. Gentle, golden eyes. Inhale. Exhale. Back straight. Chin level.
Inhale. Exhale. Fear. Inhale. Exhale. Despair. Inhale. Exhale. Lips turn downwards.
Inhale...Inhale...

...

"Please hold still, Divine Prince. I am almost done."

Gentle olive fingers stroked over such pale, soft skin. Blessed paint, judging by its sweet smell. It left behind red sigils and different patterns. The body of a canvas. Carry the sigils proudly, they say. Wield their will. And yet he must lose all of his...?

It was all too much, too fast. Those beautiful memories cracked and shattered, waiting to melt into false dreams. One moment, such blissful freedom and he could fly! Fly away from the trouble and never return to the surface. Selfish desires were all he could hold onto, a spoiled child indeed! Oh how he could witness life as he absorbed the many energies it birthed --

But as it is now, it has always been. Divine child, hear the great whispers and countries were screaming, then ash and debris. Sodden with blood. Deceit bleeding black and ugly into booming eardrums. From there, a horrible hazy film covered those beautiful golden eyes. A dream he lived no more. No more. 

"Ah, there you are. Is it to your liking, Divine Prince?"

...

Dear Gods. Please consume him and leave not a trace.

Heavy sashes of cloth, concealing his front and back from the waist down, dragging across the ground. Perfect balance and careful steps were needed around thick fabric. It revealed his grace, bare soles that can press into the wet soil around shattered glass. Anklets that jingled and rang across the hallway with each cautious step. Armbands and bracelets embedded with many jewels from centuries past. No. Not jewelry. But chains. Chains he needed to pull pull pull and run run run away never come back never wanted to be here --

"I suppose not. My sincerest apologies..." And there that was. He was too lost to even wonder if he would hear the waver in her voice. Such a twisted morality she had. What was even the point in hiding away. Pain lingered hot and fuzzy in the seemingly frigid air. Nothing was right and nothing ever will be.

Ah-haha. How ticklish. Beautifully thin fingers would be fine around his quivering throat, and mercy hidden within her shall arise. But instead they brushed over the hair clinging on his chin, lifting such a sad sad should be happy face up to meet her's. And she's hurt. He had hurt her. Broken, broken feelings. Worn out. Used. How awful.