A/N: Something I wrote a while back while listening to 'My Sweet Prince' by Placebo on repeat. :)
Disclaimer: Oh, the things I would've changed if I owned this series...
My Sweet Prince
xxx
And there they were once again; alone, and joined, and oh so bitterly happy. The chain clanked against the metal bars surrounding the bed: their heaven, if only for the briefest of moments. Their bodies were slick with sweat and close together. The room was filled with heavy breathing and bed sheets rustling and the beautiful harmony they'd make – even if the reasons were the farthest thing from beautiful.
Oh, this wasn't love – nothing of the sort: it was desperation, an unfair game, a small way to pass the time, curiosity to see who could fall the hardest. They'd be damned if they'd feel the slightest hope of love. Love was weakness, and therefore, forbidden.
There was no logic in this twisted play of acts, just broken justice and made up rules. They knew this, they could taste it every time their lips would mold together, and their bodies were intertwined so much closer and deeper then that godforsaken chain could ever make them.
Oh no no no no no, there wasn't love: it was all hate that built in the pit of their stomachs', it was hate that drove them to do the unspeakable, because without that hate there wasn't a game, and without a game, then what the hell were they fighting for?
So, in a closet or on the bed is where they'd find each other every day, and through all that it became so much easier to push each other's buttons, pull each other's strings, and tug and scratch and tear and destroy each other to find anything that they could use to prove who they really were. Cause that was all they needed in order to utterly break them in two: to kill them..
It'd be so uncomfortable for the both of them, but oh they wanted more, more, more! Plea mercy to the heavens and everything sacred that it would never end, but it did, and every time that feeling at the pit of their stomach would grow until it became hard for either of them to breathe, and only then would they allow that small amount of likeness to escape and blind them.
- Only then would they allow each other to love.
Rivals were all they could ever be: one would always be the killer, and one would always be the detective. One of them would have to die in order for the other to live. They both knew that, they knew everything that's happened between that short period of time was now coming to an end, but it didn't stop them to get what they selfishly wanted every now and then. They knew they were becoming addicted - and what were the ways to treat an addiction but either feeding it – which was always the easiest
-or killing it off.