Duo ;; Amo
Theme Two; Love
One hundred theme challenge.
Disclaimer: The Characters of South Park do not belong to me.
GregoryxChristophe "The Mole"
I sat there, on the couch silently staring thoughtlessly at the television that was currently on the military channel. I never bothered to change it from what Christophe was watching earlier; I guess it made me feel better about him being out on a mission. Don't ask me how a .50 cal M107 Barrett Sniper rifle being shot off ten times made me feel better about Mole being on a mission I sent him on. I shouldn't be worrying, it was really an irrational thing; Christophe would be fine, the job was a simple one. He had been on more dangerous missions before but for some reason I could not bring myself to stop worrying. He always came back, sometimes covered in blood (A mixture of his own and someone else's, typically,) and dirt, he never bothered to shower first because he knew even if I was bothered by the dirt and blood I'd rather know he's safe.
So, here I sat, waiting for the brunette to sneak past the main house and enter the clubhouse to verify that he was alive and to provide an explanation for what happened. My mind kept going back to 'What if he's hurt?' 'What if he died out there?' 'What if he's lost?' I couldn't help but slowly run myself into a paranoia that's a few steps worse than the one before it. 'If he died I'd be completely alone.' 'I'd have to tell the others what happened.' 'If he died. He died because of me.' 'If he never walks through that door again with a cocky smirk on his face or an angry god-hating look cursing and rambling random profanities it would be all my fault.' Trying to shake these thoughts out of my head I reached over the arm rest that I was leant against and grabbed the glass that contained my peach and lime daiquiri.
Somehow he always managed to make me lose all my composure; I hate him for it too. I can't seem to hate him for long though, it's always washed out with love. It makes me feel like I've fallen into some bad chick flick movie. My poise always seems to disappear when he's out on a mission but I can't seem to hate it for long.
I stared at the thirty-two inch LCD television in vain; I couldn't keep myself from zoning out and thinking about him. I guess that's what love does to someone, it makes you utterly helpless when they're gone, all you can do is think about if they're okay, and it turns you into this pathetic, paranoid fool. Thinking about love, is it a selfish thing? I want him to be okay, I want him to be happy because that makes me happy. Does that make me an utterly selfish bastard? Love. It's an interesting and debatable topic that I've had many disputes over with Kyle. In the end it all boils down to me being correct; humans are selfish creatures. They pursue their happiness above everyone else's because humans live off the suffering of others as we so blatantly show by hunting and eating other animals. No, I'm not arguing that it's wrong; I'm simply saying it's a fact.
I could honestly care less about anyone's hippy "no, humans love everyone," crap. I've been on too many missions to even think humans weren't violent self-centered individuals, threatened just a bit too much to think humans aren't above making each other suffer and I've done too many things to keep myself alive to think we're above making each other suffer for our gain, it's amazing what a human will do to keep themselves alive. It's written in our DNA to survive, natural selection, survival of the fittest. If it weren't true we wouldn't have the fight or flight reaction.
After a moment of thought I brought the clear glass to my lips. Waiting for Christophe was the worst thing I could even do. He probably didn't even think I was worrying, I'm sure he gets way too wrapped up in his missions to even bother thinking about it. It's a better thing I guess. That way I know he might not mess up, that way he's completely focused on whatever he's doing. I found myself back in reality when I saw the door open and my mercenary walk through the door, he was completely mucky but the little devilish grin on his face totally killed the thought of complaining at him. "Christophe," I all but cheered as I scrambled to get off the couch without killing myself or spilling my drink. I don't remember setting the wineglass down on the glass coffee table but I must have because in a matter of seconds and nearly slipping and falling due to wearing socks on hardwood flooring, I had both my arms around his neck and my lips on his.
See what I mean by somehow I end up losing my poise… Or perhaps it was how much I've had to drink… Either way I have to say love can turn anyone into feeble beings. That's probably why so many people hide from it. They don't like to know that they have a weakness. The main part of a relationship is to give someone the ability to shatter your heart into a million pieces but trusting them not to. I guess I could understand why some people would claim not to believe in it, because they have trust issues or perhaps love really just isn't their thing. But I'm not even going to try to deny that I am one hundred percent in love with Christophe DeLorne. But I hate it, I hate the fact that in in instant he could break me into a million pieces. I don't like having a weakness someone could exploit, I don't like having weaknesses at all, but this one, it's horrible. I used to be untouchable, no one could bring me down, but now I'm sure Chris could with just a few simple words.
It's maddening, but I deal with it because I love him. Nothing in life is fair, not even love.