Tea Party Arson
in those little dreams, those useless dreams, he was burned. "I love you." it burned. "I love you so much." it burned and scorched so much it brought tears to his eyes. Every promising word said brought another tears.
Added another mark to his body.
This private wonderland was his private hell.
"I love you." black fingernails dug into his arms, leaving bruises and cuts. "I love you so much it hurts."
His dignity was shed just a little more. Instead of answering, he reached for a butter tart on the table. If this was to be his torture, he could try to enjoy it.
Another candle was held to his chest, burning him. Those words were whispered in his ear, over and over. More cuts, more brusies, more burns. More of that delicious pain. It gave him a masochistic type of pleasure that he couldn't quite understand.
"I'll burn it all, so you'll always only have me." his neck was ferociously bitten. He let out a moan. He felt blood slide down his abused flesh, a monstrous tongue licking it up.
A private hell that felt more like a private heaven, but was just as deceiving. What a terrible wonderland he was in.
"I'll love you so much I'll kill you." what was burning him like this? Was it the words, the touches? What was killing him like this? " and you'll love me so much... you'll want to eat your heart out." bone white lips were pressed against his.
It was burning, it was hurting, and it was making him bleed. Every soothing touch, he almost whispered hallelujah, cause it felt so damn good.
This pretty tea party dream, was more like a nightmare that was killing him so slowly. This wonderland was burning. And the only thing that could save him was the one who was causing him all this pain. But he didn't mind. Not quite.
"I'll set it on fire. And when you heart can't take anymore, it'll belong to me. I own you." he didn't quite deny it. He couldn't. Because the pain was a little overwhelming. He was gambling with it. Every time he had this dream. He loved it.
A private wonderland, a private hell.
This sweet burning feeling. He was gonna die from it. If this kind of pain and pleasure was to be his death, then he might as well enjoy it.
"I love you king." a strange half smile was given to him. More kisses, more bruises, more pain.
This dream was more like a nightmare. And everything was going up in flames. Pretty wonderland going up in flames. Well he might as well be crushed with it. He was half burnt and bruised any way. He might as well go blind with it.
In these useless dreams, where his being king was meaningless, he felt so much pain. So much pleasureable pain that it drove him a little crazy.
His private wonderland, his private hell. His private paradise.
Another kiss, another cut, more of those whispered words that nearly broke him with their weight. "I love you, king. So much that I own you."
OWARI
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