ONCE.
There once was a prince, regarded as beautiful and magnificent by every soul to ever know him, or even passersby who would only steal a glance at him. His clothes were painted gold, reflecting the colour of his piercing eyes. His hair was messy and auburn, strands fell like raindrops over his eyes, covering them only slightly. It was like gold shinning out from behind the tattered autumn leaves.
His smile was crooked and woven, but no one noticed that and if they did, it took only a mere glance from him to make them completely forget. If you looked at him, carefully avoiding his gaze, you'd be able to spot the faint red hue splashing his hands, and the way his nails curled, rather like knives or splinters than actual nails. If you cast your eyes to the left of his chest, you'd be able to see smoky black ink pouring from what was supposed to be his clockwork heart dripping silently onto the ground, circling you and him; rendering it impossible for you to leave without him ripping out your heart and using it as his own. But there was no real need for him to rip it out from you. No, you'd willingly do that for him, you'd snap the arteries one by one and hand him your heart- filled to the very brim with your blood, your love, your memories, your happiness and everything you could possibly give him. He'd smile his rag doll smile and snatch the heart from your stained hands. He'd examine it for a moment, it beating frailly in his stitched hands. You freeze; your eyes watching him carefully stroke your heart, the edges of his lips turned upwards. He cups it in his hands, as if it were as really delicate as you thought it to be, and for an instant you believe that your heart's actually good enough – but then he grasps on tighter, his grinning nails digging in so hard it hurts you breathe.
Something shatters all over the palace floor, starling you. You look down. The floor's stained a bloody red, the pieces of your heart and everything you put in it lay in a sea of broken pieces at your feet. Your heart wasn't good enough, and it never will be.