The Petshop of Horrors does not belong to me. Nothing, no profit, just a craving for it. X3 My first attempt at writing. It's really bad, so I don't care if you don't like it. Flame me if you'd like.

A Moth Drawn to the Flame

Like a moth drawn to the flame, I couldn't bear to look away, even for a moment. I made myself wild excuses in order to be near him. I spent long hours looking for reasons to be near him, even it were just to hear him call me an idiot. If only for a moment, I would spend any amount of time with him.

Time after time, I'd wake up thinking of him, of the way he whispered and listened to the animals, the way his lips would curve into a smile. I wanted all that to be mine… I finally found a reason that was unfallible – I was searching for drugs and narcotics in Count D's petshop. I spent day after day in his shop, every face I showed in front of him was a mask.

I would have followed him anywhere. I found that I trusted this odd man, this unhuman entity. When he pushed me back down to Earth, away from him, something inside me shattered. I spent those seconds falling staring at him, trying to absorb what I could in my descent back to Earth.

I abandoned everyone to be with him. I chased him across the world, I did anything to catch just one more glimpse of him. It was all in vain… I couldn't find him, no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, he eluded my grasp every single time.

I left to go to Chinatown one last time. I had finally decided what I had been too afraid to do. If I could not have him, I would have nothing at all. With this last thought in my mind, I walked, no, almost ran to Count D's old shop.

It hadn't changed at all. What had preciously looked like a broom closet after he left was now restored back to its former glory. Cakes, pastries, and cookies covered the table, enough to make diabetics faint just at the sight. And the smell, the smell of the different teas the Count would have sitting around, they were there too. And the he walked out, carrying a tray with tea set upon it, with the smile he always wore.

I smiled for the first time since he left. The feelings I felt for him were unorthodox, to be sure, but nothing mattered in my world other than his smile, the slight curving of his lips. Nothing made me feel warmer than his arms around me. Nothing made me angrier than seeing him hurt. Nothing else could make me feel this happiness.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but the sight of his face made all the sorrow and anger okay. Just the sight of his smile could've allowed me to die peacefully. His pull had me drawn to him since we met. I was the moth, and he was the irresistible flame.