Click, click.

So slowly, sluggishly does the time seem to pass. Dinner with the kids seemed to last an eternity and yet, only took up thirty minutes.

It is both amazing and dreadful how many things can be done in a half an hour. Mountains of potato topped with gravy can be demolished with a rock-fall of snow peas, rivers can flood, empires can fall, an entire fairy-tale book can be read and bellies can be filled.

Oh, how fast can you doodle an entire being when you are just sitting and waiting nervously. Sketches that would normally only take a true form in hours can take shape in a mere fifteen minutes, while coloring and shading it to completion can take only ten.

Novels can be skimmed, finished and combed back through in a mere twenty, topped with an overall opinion thought out and pondered.

Click, click.

Naps won't work, your nerves are just a jumbled, frazzled mess without the comforting heat that usually conforms to you in that bed.

Too cold.

Too empty.

So here you are, wasting away blankly in front of some video-sharing site, letting auto-play show you the wonders of a world you would have never dared search. You lounge in his chair, feet tucked beneath your crossed legs as you let yourself sink into the cushions the disciple has worn with use. You only move to click out of pesky advertisements.

You don't know why you bother; aren't you trying to pass the time? It would only make sense to watch those too... But you don't, because when have you ever made any sense?

Whatever.

At this very moment, you are fascinated. Sickened, slightly nauseous but... oh so very fascinated. You can't seem to tear your eyes away from the things unfolding on the bottom-most center monitor.

And it all started when you looked up a single cat video.

How did you get here from there?

It will forever be a damn mystery.

The want to click away is there, but the will, that's another story completely. Instead, you let your eyes rest on yet another slow-motion pore strip peel, allowing the bile in your stomach to flip to the beat of the out of place techno pulsing in your ears.

While away the seconds, let them tick-tick-tick on.

"What the ever-loving fuck are you-" Your eyes snap wide open, you don't even wait until the chair is completely turned around when you launch yourself from the seat and straight into the owner of the disturbed voice.

You don't need to see to know who it is.

You feel it.

You know it.

"SAERAN!"

You knock his ass to the ground.

"Oof!"

"Ugh, god, I'm sorry... I didn't meant to-" Your breath catches at the sight of him. "-What the hell happened?! Jesus!"

There are scrapes and lines of dried blood caked from brow to chin, bruises and scratches littering what you can see of his neck, his jacket and pants are scuffed and frayed in spots, but the narrowing of his eyes and the twitching of his mouth worries you.

Electronic beats and synthesized drops fill the atmosphere as his chest puffs out a closed chuckle, you go to remove yourself from your lean on him but his cold hands hold you firmly in place.

"I did it, Lamb." He shows no signs of distress when you trail your fingertips along the painful-looking rise of his flesh nor does he offer any other explanation as to how it happened, he just lays in the place you jumped him, giggles breaking his shuddered breathing, sage gaze glazed over and looking through you.

"Hey."

"The Savior has all she needs from that place."

"Saeran?"

"All that is left is to bring them to ruin. To destroy them both."

"Saeran."

"I just need to kill him. I need to remove him from this earth, then I won't have to think about him anymore. I won't have to remember. I won't have to worry... No one will."

"Hey."

"And then, when the time comes, I can ascend peacefully knowing that he is rotting in a deep pit of Hell as I make a home in Paradise-"

You crush your lips to his. It's not gentle and you didn't intend it on being that way. Your nose and forehead presses to his own with a bruising force. You couldn't handle hearing any more of his destructive thoughts. You can't stand hearing him want to condemn someone else by playing judge and jury; didn't want to think of him with bloody hands laughing above the corpse of his own brother or the other man he keeps bringing up.

You don't want to imagine his ascension.

Right here, right now you want him to acknowledge your existence. You need him to factor you in somewhere within that revenge-soaked mind.

It was grueling enough just to spend a few hours away from the disciple, not knowing what was happening or when he'd be back... If he'd be back.

You can't think about him leaving you indefinitely.

No, you stake your claim on him, pulling his bottom lip through your teeth. You suck on the thing, tasting the blood and chill of night on its dry surface before letting it slip free and pressing your mouth back to his to keep his words at bay.

Desperately, frantically.

There's so much you want to convey, but you can't think of how to in any other way but this. You need to barge into his thoughts, interrupt his speech until you're sure he won't talk any more.

He needs to know; you need to tell him.

Your eyes burn, there's already a pool forming at your ducts, precariously hanging onto your flesh in wait to fall onto his. Chancing everything, you pull away and open lids you hadn't realized were clenched shut. Those sage eyes are locked on you, etched in surprise, confusion and something else you aren't entirely sure of, but it differs from the cool of his body; a kind of heat that radiates in his cheeks. Even as pale and coated in blood as he is, you can see it all clearly.

You...

Well, you have his attention.

"I'm here." You speak against him, his chap scratching at the swollen plump of your own lips. "I'm here,... don't forget about me." Pleading, you let your head fall to his pinned shoulder as nearly incomprehensibly you mutter your racing thoughts against his injured neck, tucked into the folds of his downed face mask.

"You can't leave me so soon... I'm here, too.

It's supposed to be me and you, right? You said so. You said that you were mine and I'm yours, so why do you want to leave me alone so soon.

Don't...

Please.

Don't leave me.

I can't stand the thought of you killing him and then ascending. I can't say goodbye to you yet. Don't make me do that.

I can't...

I can't..." It's so hard to catch your breath. It hurts, inhaling is a chore and exhaling burns so much that it stutters, catching in your throat.

The limp fingers around your upper arms tighten, digits curling so much that his short nails dig into you, leaving little lines of blossoming pink and white as he pushes you up yet again.

He wants to see you, to look into your soul even as you lay it bare before him. It's embarrassing, but you are so past the stage of caring about stupid details like that.

You let him see everything.

Raw.

Unfettered.

Unbearably vulnerable and trembling.

His stare is pointed, serious, brow knitted and heavy as those haunting giggles no longer wrack his form, replace by heavy breaths and flared nostrils.

"I'm not like him." Chin lowering, his look is deep into your own. "I won't abandon you... You know that... I...

I'm better than him." The last sentence is no more but a whisper but you catch every single syllable.

"But, damn it, what does that even MEAN?!" Your jaw is shaking, it's so hard just to speak. "You still plan to kill him and then your purpose is complete... And then what? You'll ascend and leave me... That's how it works, Right?

But...It's not...

You can't be better than him when you're planning to sink lower... I just... I don't understand..." And you're scared; terrified of whom the disciple is trying to become, knowing that in one sense or another, the Saeran you know now...

He'll disappear anyway.

You can't hide, as much as you want to look anywhere but into those stormy sage, you're trapped. Nightcore pulses and high-pitched vocals now blare from the speakers, the beats matching the race of your heart as he says nothing back, lines and muscles contort his pallid and spattered face in just a few moments.

Silent moments that suffocate.

His grip on you deepens, it hurts and you gasp at the new pressure, thankful for it.

"I won't leave you."

"You kill him and... yes, you will. I-" You hear him, and yet you don't. The feelings you keep spouting are drowning him out.

"Stop."

"-know it! You can't tell me that-" You know you should let him say his peace, but he needs to hear you too.

"Lamb..."

"-it won't change you. It will. If you are better, you don't have to prove it by becoming a murderer! How does that even make sense? And...-" When he moves his lips, it only spurs you on. Your mouth moves quicker, tongue desperately formulating sentences the best you can manage as you speak over his faint echo-like interruptions.

"I can't make any promises to you when it comes to my brother. But-"

"-I don't think I could ever sit by and watch you willingly die... Don't do that to me... please don't make me smile and congratulate you just to watch you slip away." Barely do you eek out the rest. You are huffing, throat closed up and dry.

"Hey, hey... Stop..." Finally, his words reach. But already you sink, defeated by a future you are sure he'll chase.

"I can't..." You collapse, even against his strong hold. Your face is burning, stinging thanks to salted tears and the force of over-speaking. Threads of his scarf-like mask tickle, soaking up the evidence as you breath him in with strangled gasps and stuttering sniffles.

This is pathetic.

Didn't you promise yourself long ago not to rely on others? And yet here you are, still clinging.

Still lost.

Still dependent.

Still lacking everything needed in order to hold on and even more so... unwilling to let go.