Title: Perfection

Summary: Todd and Lovett bathe.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Not mine, no copyright infringement intended or anything dreadful like that.

The blood is thicker than the water they're in, bits washing off languidly and the rest peeling into little pink specks that float around them, blinking in the candlelight, flaky hearts beating against their skin. Mockery is flattery, somewhere.

They don't move. Not an half an inch, not half a breath, because to move would be to shatter the world they've created.

To make this perfect, he will have to make her scream, wipe that lackadaisical smile from those ruby-dried lips, make her writhe, make her drown into that swimming blood, suffocate her on her own insignificant heart, lose control of everything to him.

They're bound by a vicious struggle to control their desire, a delightfully impossible process that abandons them somewhere between uncontrollable laughter and little silver scars that don't show up for days.

His own little bloody aflatoon, lust is not enough to make him love her, but her screams are. With her, it will always be too much or not enough, the exception being when they find this - an unshakable balance that winds itself around their minds with bitter elegance. They waltz.

He does not like to think on her. She does not want to think on him.

They smile.

Silence remains unspoken.