43/100: Abandoned. Sephiroth/Genesis.
Prometheus, for those who don't know, is a character from Greek mythology who stole fire from the gods and brought it down for mankind in the stem of a fennel plant. When Zeus found out, he was not greatly impressed and chained Prometheus to a rock where and eagle would eat his liver… it would grow back the following morning and thus was his endless torture… I found this relevant to this story.
Characters are totally not mine...
Abandoned
Prometheus By Fire
It hurt. More than he thought it would. More than he felt the weight of guilt; more than the burden of shame, he felt the pains of his past. It was actually like someone had plunged their hand straight through his chest, skewed his inner workings and torn his heart out, live and bleeding. It was cliché; he'd read the notion so many times, but it was the only to describe it. It just hurt.
He'd let himself –somewhere along the line- to become the simpering little heroine, so delicate, dependent, left alone, discarded and broken. Whom should he resent more? Himself, for his weakness for succumbing to sweet nothings? Or rather the one who made him this way?
With one glance, nothing else mattered; with a touch of those pretty fingers, the world didn't exist. Things were better that way. Without distraction and duty, he was a child all too willing to play, utterly entranced by dancing flames. But it was one glance and too many touches that told him plainly that he had played too far. Instead of dabbling, able to stop, he was burning, out of control.
Yes, maybe that was the best way to describe this state of suspended emotional animation. He had been torn inside out by the hands he loved and trusted and was forced to watch the fire, that once burned from love now turned hatred, slowly consume him whole.