I really don't want to talk about why I wrote this…
Damien let the snow white flower petals slip from his grasp, the wind carrying them off to who knows where. He'd always liked that phrase. Who knew where things went when the wind took them. He didn't, that's for sure.
He curled into himself, hugging his knees to his chest as he kept plucking the white petals of the tiny daisy in his hand.
He loves me
Where did that bastard get off being such a…a…a bastard! Yeah, that's the word he was looking for. He couldn't stand the prick. He certainly didn't care about him, definitely didn't love him.
Then why did his chest feel so tight?
He loves me not
There had been a time, not so long ago, when they had been close. No, that was a lie. They'd been more than close. They had been best friends, comrades…lovers.
That man had been his whole world, his escape from his duties as the Anti-Christ and his safe haven from his father. And Damien had been his distraction from his mother and job. But all that was over wasn't it?
He loves me
Christophe was gone, not just from him, from the world. The idiot had gone off without Damien to some shit hole country on the other side of the world and gotten himself blown up or something. No one had been clear on the details, not even Gregory.
All he knew was that the mission had gone horribly wrong. That he didn't even have a body to bury. That he had no idea whose blood to spill to make this rage and pain go away.
That he was alone, that Christophe was dead and he was alone.
He loves me not
It wasn't supposed to be like this! He wasn't supposed to die! He was Ze Mole for fuck's sake! He wasn't allowed to die, it wasn't in his contract!
Damien ripped the flower to pieces, right down to where he held the end of the stem in his fingers. He would have yanked the whole plant up by the roots and shredded it if he hadn't collapsed to his knees and began crying.
He fisted his hands in the grass, trying to stop the world from spinning. Hot, bitter tears splashed onto his hands and the grass beneath them. He felt like a pansy faggot, but goddammit he had to do something!
He loves me
The cries died down to sniffles and the occasional whimper as Damien collapsed further down onto the grass and curled up into a tight ball. He untwisted his fingers from the now shredded grass, a single daisy coming away with his hand. He giggled madly and began picking the petals off one by one, chanting the old children's spell.
"He loves me
He loves me not
He loves me." He smiled wryly as he got down to the last petal, plucking it off and letting it fall to the ground.
He loves me not
Hmm…this was supposed to be a Dip and be called Dona Nobis Pacem…but look where the plot bunnies took it *shakes head sadly*
I like it, though