"I Hate Him"
'Rome'
Quintus X Brutus
Disclaimer: HBO & BBC own
Set in season one- Some spoilers
Some language and sex references
From Brutus' point of view
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How long must he be here? His very presence sickens me. Quintus and his dark, cheap thoughts of revenge against Caesar; he is worse than my mother. They both sicken me. I have betrayed Caesar once, I quite simply cannot allow myself to succumb to it again, the consequences are just too great. And as long as these thought's from him and my mother remain it will only be a matter of time until I reach the end of my tether, one of them has to go, and this is my mothers house. So Quintus it must be.
I knew that she had hated the guts inside of Caesar, but I vowed my allegiance to the man, I promised my friendship. He believes me to be as a son. I will never sway to betrayal again. I don't understand it, when I left Rome to pledge myself to serve Pompey, she remained behind to remain friends with Caesar, but now, it appears that we have reversed ourselves. As long as she and Quintus conspire in this house, it's just too horrible to comprehend. Us housing the son of Pompey...people are bound to talk of betrayal and assume that I would be involved.
I now curse the name Pompey and all of his children, Quintus and his bastard insistence on vengeance will bring me down with him unless he is removed quickly. It may be my imagination, but ever since my mother accepted the slimy arsehole into our home, the place has become like that of an underworld filled with misery and emptiness. I hate him, I hate everything about him. He knows nothing of the consequences that his actions will bring. He is pathetic and hopeless, I wish him gone. I wish him and all of the darkness and evil intentions in his heart gone.
I sit here watching as he and my mother speak of their hatred to the man I am loyal to. Both sitting in their corner whispering of conspiracy and torment, enveloped in anger. His eyes filled with something obsessed. For a moment, those obsessive eyes gazed directly into mine. I hate his eyes. His beautiful, pain-filled eyes, I hate them most of all. I don't know why, but I can't look away. Then again, I know why I look at him, my own eyes mentally burning out his organs, boiling him from the inside out. He drinks our wine from our cups with those vile and evil lips, his eyes again, damn his eyes. They should be pecked out by harpies.
"Would you mind averting your gaze elsewhere." Ah, the sick son of a whore speaks.
"Would you mind averting yourself to Pluto's cock?" That shut him up; Yet his lips curl into a smile, a smile which makes me feel sick to the bone. I refuse to stay in the same room as this creature of Hell a second longer. I get to my feet without hesitation, I have to get out of here, his presence is no good for anyone. I'll leave him and mother to their wrong doings.
It is dark outside, the moon is high in the sky, I feel like wine. I summon the slaves to fetch me wine. I sit out on the stairway, drinking as much as I feel to drown my troubles, maybe I am drinking too much, I can barely see clearly. But I still drink because it's the only thing to do, drinking 'til I hear the twisted voice of that bastard once again right behind me. "You know, that really wasn't very nice what you said to me earlier." Like I give a damn.
"What?" What is his game now. Why is he sitting next to me?
"What you said to me. You told me to suck Pluto's cock." That I did say to him, but I would rather avoid speaking to this so called man. I cannot stand being sat so close to him. It's making me sick on the spot.
"Leave me be." I say boldly and commanding, as commanding as I feel I can muster being so drunk on wine.
"No. Not until I get an apology." Damn him, why does his voice do what it does to me? It makes me quiver so terribly. I cannot hold out much longer, his voice is hypnotising my very soul, it will only be a matter of time until he gets what he wants from me. But I must try to. God, I want to see him pissed off, I want to see my words affect him as his do to me.
"An apology for what?" I ask innocently in a drunken haze, resting my head against the wall, and I can only smile and close my eyes, anticipating his response.
"Don't speak down to me! You know why I request an apology from you, I just told you!" Yes! I have him. Just a couple of my words reduce him to anger. Now I know I have the same affect on him. And that makes me feel so good. But oh my God, his voice nearly melted me.
"And I just told you to leave me be." Again with a question that would be sure to burn him up.
"Look, I'm not leaving until you kneel before me and kiss my feet in forgiveness!" I can't help but smile.
"Never..you slimy bastard." I can feel my strength against him building. When only before I would dare speak this way about him in private.
"Tell me your sorry." I can tell that in his voice, he was shaken up by my response.
"No." I like teasing him like this.
"You refuse to apologise to the son of Pompey?" Oh he is so angry I can see it in those burning eyes.
"You are no son. Your father is dead!" Some would call me hard-headed, I say I'm just set on getting my way.
"Take it back!" I knew that hurt him. And that is exactly what I wanted. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to see him so angry as he makes me by just the very sight of him. I can't help it, the look on his face is just so very priceless. But also so very beautiful.
"No." This is as far as I can go with fighting against him. I can't take any more. I feel his rough hand at the back of my head, drawing my face to his foot.
"You...will." I try to resist but in seconds I am kissing the top of his toes, my lips pressed drunkenly on his sandal covered foot. He has me so hopelessly under his control.
"I'm...sorry." I stutter the words against his foot, the firm hold on me kept me down in place. I love how dominating he is.
"There was that so hard?" He releases me with surprising gentleness.
"Now you apologise."
"Me? What on Earth for?" The question he poised did not hold much concern.
"For corrupting this home. For drinking our wine. For being a despicable insect." I am a drunk fool, I don't know what I'm saying.
"I thought that you wanted me to leave?" Quintus stands and turns to leave, a satisfied smile on his devilish face that I hate. I can't allow him to leave; I reach out quickly, grabbing his slender wrist in my hands.
"Your not leaving." My fingers trail down his wrist to entwine with his. "Please...don't leave me...I'll do anything you ask." His smile grows only bigger. And those eyes, again looking into mine, I hate his eyes, but no matter how much I hate, I am still so drawn to them as they get closer... as do his lips.