A/N: Two chapters in one day? What? This is like, unheard of from me. I've never done this, ever. End of the world y/n?
Anyways.. some of these, like Luigi(weegee, teehee), Pavi (sorta) and Mag were kinda rushed/lazy.. so yeah, sorry.
100 Themes Challenge
2. Love - Love Makes the World go 'round
"God gave us two ears to hear, two eyes to see and two hands to hold. But why did God give us only one heart? Because he wants us to find the other one." -Anonymous
Love.
He had loved many things over the course of his life.
He had loved the mothers of all his children, to a degree. They had given birth to his children and had, at one point, been the most important person in his life. All three had passed away long ago, though.
None of them even came close to Marni. Marni was a caring friend, an amazing lover, along with so much more. She had even outshone his own flesh and blood for a while(he thought they didn't notice, but they did, all three of them; especially poor little Carmela), something he would never admit aloud to anyone but himself.
His children. The only things left in his life, other than gold. They had once been his precious, innocent offspring; now they were vultures that (at least in the case of his sons Pavi and Luigi; Amber only had surgery on the brain) only stuck around for GeneCo and the inheritance.
They were the source of his problems, and it was their fault they had become the monsters they were. He held little love for them anymore.
(Liar, liar.)
Love.
He barely understood love.
His own mother had been killed in childbirth because of him. His father obviously favored his siblings. His brother was his rival for GeneCo. His sister was not the sweet little girl he remembered from his past anymore.
No, all he had was the cold, hard steel of the knife's wicked blade.
Love.
He had an abundance of that, he noted, as he glanced into the mirror he always carried with him. He had a Gentern hanging from each arm(ten out of nine would say the Pavi), the adoration of all the women(and even some of the men), his lovely faces(barely covering his own scarred one), and, of course, the mirror to admire himself with.
Then why did he still feel like something was missing?
Love.
Such a foreign concept, a lost novelty of old times before the epidemic that did not seem to exist anymore; at least not in the dark alleyways filled with druggies and graverobbbers, and god knows what else crawling and skittering about along the rain-slicked pavement.
Love only existed for the older people, around since a time when the world was right and slowly shriveling with age together - lucky them.
There was no love left in this world; only sex and money and zydrate. The world of the damned ran on those three things alone; nothing more, nothing less.
Then why did her heart beat so fast near him?
Love.
Something he had lost long ago, along with his parents and his innocence. All he had left was the love market, the drug market, the little glass vial - and her.
No, no, no. Their relationship was purely work-centric, nothing past that. Sex for zydrate, nothing more.
(Or so he thinks.)
But why was it that every time she came in looking different, not like herself, he felt a twinge of - well - something? He remembered the time she first stumbled into his alley, eyes filled with confusion and pain just from a small nose job demanded to be done by Daddy. He, knowing just who she was and yet unwilling to just leave her there, offered her a hit of the street-rate glow.
("First hit's free, kid.")
For him, love did not exist. His heart was shriveled and blackened with the knowledge of the harsh world, barely left with the capacity for even platonic concern.
No, he did not love her.
(Denial, denial, denial.)
Love.
The only love she had ever known was for her father. She had never known anyone else - she could not even claim to love her mother, since the only thing she knew of her was that her genetics had passed on to damn her daughter's life as well.
Her only love was her father, her only memories were of her father. She still loved him, even after she learned that he was the one who poisoned her blood (not Marni, never Marni), even after learning of his grotesque Repo life, but was that really so wrong?
Although, the only hate she understood was her father as well. She hated him for lying, for hiding, for keeping Mag away, for keeping her away from the world.
But she still loved him.
Love.
He was a quiet man. A quiet man with a sadistic voice inside his head.
How had someone like him ever earned the love of two such amazing women?
Marni. The love of his life, his wife, his everything; he would have done anything for her. Anything, even died. But he had killed her, murdered her with his own poison and scalpel.
Oh, how he wished he had died instead.
Shilo. All he had left in his life. His precious daughter, a piece of both Marni and himself in a beautiful girl. He would give her the world, if he could - but instead her imprisoned her from it, hid her for his own selfish needs as he tried his best to keep his Repo life a dark secret from his baby girl.
If only he could love someone without hurting them as well...
Love.
She had been a blind girl lost in the big world. The only one who had ever loved her was Marni - even if that love was just platonic, it was enough for her to thrive on.
The love right before Marni's death.
Her only other love was fleeting. The love for her goddaughter. The girl she had thought to be dead for seventeen years, who she had only truly known for a handful of scattered moments.
The love right before her own death.
Her life may have been void of much love, but it was still life and love nonetheless.