Lords of the Playlist
Authors note: The Powerpuff girls do not belong to me and as always, they have human appendages.
Greens ages variate between late teens/early twenties.
Track 16: Miss Murder – A.F.J
Butch threw back his head and downed his shot, violently slamming the glass down on the bar – effectively shattering it.
Other bar patrons glanced his way, fear and confusion evident in their eyes, but the brooding male couldn't be bothered to care in his drunken state.
Tossing a few bills down on the counter, he sauntered out of the bar, with a slightly off centered gait to his step. Throwing open the bar door, he tore off into the sky in his signature green streak, heading towards home.
He arrived at his apartment a few seconds later, fumbling with the key for a moment before finally unlocking the door and slamming it shut behind him. Butch kicked off his shoes and tossed his leather jacket off uncaringly, before heading to his bedroom, slightly massaging his temples as he felt the Chemical X in his system kick into overdrive to sober him up.
Glancing around his room he bit back a groan.
He really should have drank more.
His bedroom was a wreck. Broken bits of furniture littered the floor and fist-sized holes decorated his walls. Looking at the wreckage that was once his bedroom, he was brought back to the reason why he had gone drinking in the first place.
He and Buttercup had had a fallout.
That wasn't uncommon in their relationship; only this time the difference was he had really blown up at her, and one thing had led to another, and Buttercup had called it quits, storming out of their, or rather his apartment, slamming the door shut behind her.
That had been three weeks ago.
At first, he had been fine – content with telling himself that she would come back to him (she always came back after all) but when it became apparent that she wasn't coming back, he began to slip
He noticed that he had started drinking more often than usual, and his already legendary temper would flare up at the slightest things. It had gotten to the point that even his own brothers were wary of him, and had opted to give him some space to sort himself out.
Butch bit back a snort as he glanced around the bedroom. A good lot space had done him. He really had lived up to his title as the infamous Baron of Berserk.
He let out an angry growl as stalked over to his bed, intent on sleeping off the headache he could feel coming on; only to pause as something caught his eye.
There, on his bedside table (one of the few pieces of furniture that wasn't damaged from his rampage) was a picture of the love of his life.
Butch froze as Buttercups lime green eyes stared back at him from the picture frame – Almost as if the photo of her could see right through the distraught male.
The though made him oddly furious for some reason. Whether it was at himself or her, he could not say.
Butch let a frustrated hiss as he stood in the middle of the destroyed room.
He could have had anyone. But he wanted her.
He began to shake. A snarl tore out of his throat as he raked a hand though his jet-black spikes, forested eyes narrowing into slits as he stared at the picture of her on his bedside table.
He'd had enough. The separation was killing him. She was killing him.
A violent roar tore out of his maw as he buried his fist into his bedroom wall, leaving a gaping hole in the plaster, before collapsing back down onto his bed – bloodshot eyes never leaving the picture of her.
He'd get her back. He'd make her see. He wouldn't let her be the end of him.
.
XxX
Simply a look can break your heart.
The stars that pierce the sky;
He left them all behind.
We're left to wonder why
He left us all behind.