Cocaine hearts and tar-black souls
I couldn't tell how it started.
For a minute, he and I were sitting next to each other, drinking and smoking and laughing. Typical Friday night with friends. But the next thing I knew, I was on my feet and my voice was struggling to conquer the deafening club music. Heat surged through my face. Everyone's eyes were on me.
And there he was, sitting on my right, calm and poised while I raised my voice like a spoiled little child. He was acting stupid again and it ticked me off. He regarded me with lazy, hooded eyes, a cigarette sticking out of his curled lips. He watched me with amusement as I yelled in slurs.
"Arthur, tu m'écoutes, s'il te plaît ‒ ?" He pleaded gently, rising from his seat. His native language came out of his mouth with such irritatingly soft melody.
"Non, tu m'écoutes!"
My breath hitched as the words fluttered from my mouth. An accusing finger was left hanging awkwardly in the air, directed at him. Everyone around us stopped and stared for a while, so did I.
Alcohol could dominate and cloud your thoughts in the nastiest, most tactless and regrettable ways possible. This was one of the worst examples it could render me.
I searched for his face and found conceit and pleasure. He loved it when I speak his bloody language, I just knew. It was one of those false assurances of his power over me – it overwhelmed him. I hated it as much as I loved to hate him.
He reached for my arm.
"Fous-moi la paix!" I deflected. I didn't want him to come near me, let alone touch me. "Je te déteste! Je te déteste! Je te déteste!"
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
You would know when someone really meant what they were saying if they could say it three consecutive times, they say. I could spit it over and over until my mouth runs dry.
Before he could get his filthy hands on me, I said. "C'est fini!"
I knocked the bottles and glasses of cheap liquorice and tore out of sight. I fished my car keys inside my pockets and tugged my leather jacket tighter, rejecting the cruel cold.
We brought my car because we didn't expect to stay longer than we had. But before we knew it, we were engaged into another heated conversation that escalated in a matter of seconds. Alcohol, smoke and noise stirred together, unleashing those years' worth of fury I bottled up especially for him.
The engine coughed to life and I drove away, my mind racing along the dim and winding road before me. I sped up with a familiar yet indescribable feeling coursing through my veins. Adrenaline kept my eyes checking the rearview mirror once in a while.
I floored the gas pedal.
I wouldn't deny myself this guilty pleasure. At the back of my mind, I was expecting him to come and chase after me.
Light of his life, fire of his loins
Keep me forever, tell me you own me
Light of your life, fire of your loins
Tell me you want me, gimme them coins
He and I knew each other since we could remember. He hated me ever since and the feeling was mutual. We spent years mocking and laughing at each other, caught up in a relentless cycle of unassailable loathing. But beneath the dreadful surface resides a genuine and almost outrageous state of affinity.
Little by little, we came into realization as we left our childhood years behind. After all those years we spent fighting, we finally looked each other in the eye.
He was always there for me, and I for him.
He never failed to lend me a helping hand after watching me crumble. We pulled each other back to our feet one loss after the other. It was a dangerous game we chose to play, yet we didn't want to see it end.
He adored me in every way. It took him long to muster the guts for confession, but he did. He knew me inside out after all those days and nights they spent together. He regarded me as if he only saw all the good things about me, never my imperfections.
People thought we were oil and water, but it was all for show. He and I share this unconventional obsession that people failed to notice.
I gave the rearview mirror another glance and found Alfred's car catching up behind me. I saw the figure behind the steering wheel and I felt my lips twitch with excitement.
I hated how he loved to play along. I hated everything about him.
His intimidating, satin-soft locks. His eyes of a cloudless summer sky. His loving smile. The touch of his stubbly chin against my skin. The zesty smell of his perfume…
Everything about him was stupid. But I was as stupid for loving him as much as I resented him. We were caught up in a relentless cycle of loathing, once upon a time, and it remained, but this time, the fighting and screaming always transpired with kisses and angst-ridden nights in bed.
I'm not afraid to say that I'd die without him
Who else is gonna put up with me this way?
I need you, I breathe you, I'd never leave you
They would rue the day I was alone without you
He caught up very quickly, so did the police. We must have hit speed limit as the sirens blasted behind us, but never mind the fucking police.
I shifted my gaze back to the rearview mirror. A playful smile crossed his lips. He knew. I hated how he fucking knew what was inside my head right then and there.
He and I spoke a special language that only the two of us understand.
Leave me alone.
Stay with me. Don't ever let me go.
Without you I am just a mere shard of glass, worthless and irreparable.
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
My love for you is beyond words, surpassing this vast universe.
It's over!
No one can keep us apart. We shall be together till the end of time.
Our love was unlike any other and it was the only kind of insanity I would embrace whole-heartedly.
I wanted him inside me. I wanted him to tell me he loved me. I wanted him to claim me, take possession of me. Hold me in his arms and never let me go. Kiss me senseless and tell me he'd be nothing without me.
Loving him was the craziest thing I ever did my entire life; it felt so wrong and right at the same time. Loving him was bracing myself for Death.
We showed no sign of slowing down and pulling over for the police. I took the lead through circles and narrow streets until we reached the outskirts of the town. I was consistent with my speed, driving straight and fast. I was losing control. My hands refused my brain's commands, making the car skid clumsily along the road. My vision was blurred, unable to decipher the cliff railing a few feet ahead.
It was the end and he was there, taking the leap after me.
I love you forever, not maybe
You are my one true love
You are my one true love
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This goes to TotemundTabu for being a lovely senpai. uwu It's my first FrUK fic and yes, I'm going to write more. In due time. She gave me the prompt 'Light of my life, fire of my loins' (which I think is perfect for this ship) and here's the spawn. \slapped
I'm not as happy with how it turned out. I wanted to put more dialogue but I didn't. Haha! I just have this headcanon that Arthur Kirkland speaks fluent French, okay?
Reviews are appreciated!
