You knew that it was going to fall apart eventually. You couldn't keep it up, you knew you couldn't. It just wasn't realistic. Maybe you could have if you'd never really gotten to know him, if you'd simply been able to run into his office, grab your blood, and run out as he flung casual insults at you. But no, you knew the guy, and fuck it, he knew you too. He knew what to say to get you riled up, which buttons to push and when. And if you're being honest, you know it's your fault. You let him in the second you punched him the night you died. He started to figure you out right there. It only got worse as time went by, and shit, eventually you realized that he knew you better than anyone did, and howthefuckisthatfair.

And it wasn't long after that that you guys started your biting-and-sex thing, and whydidyoustartdoingthat. And it would have been nice to say that you were just getting off on each other because of the whole vampirism-and-masochism thing, but damnit that wouldn't work because you knew each other. If you hadn't known him, you wouldn't have realized that he reserved that certain smirk and that certain tone of voice when he insulted someone for people he liked. And then you probably would have bit him just because you wanted to hurt him, not because he liked it. And that would have just made you angry and a little sick, but at least that would be it. You wouldn't feel anything else for the disgusting man.

Well, it wasn't like that. But for a while, you pretended it was. You pretended that you two were having sex for the sake of sex, that you were biting him only because you were hungry. And this worked for a pretty long time. But then you made another stupid, stupid mistake:

You started to like the guy in a really weird kind of way. Cue the dun-dun-DUN, because really, what the hell were you thinking? When he mocked or teased you, how did your scowl turn into a smirk? How did your nose-breaking punch turn into a whack upside the head? How did your begrudging toleration turn into…begrudging affection?

You really should have gone right back on all the pills your mother used to give you, because you were obviously loco en la cabeza. It didn't even matter that you were a vampire and that your body probably wouldn't be able to process meds anymore—you should have pulled away from him the very first time one of your kisses was anywhere near sweet, turned around, left the office, and institutionalized yourself.

But you didn't, ohholyfuckingmotherofJesus-H-Christ, you didn't. You stayed in Worth's office and kept kissing him, even though he would pull away every so often to murmur a low "You're such a fag". Because you'd realized by then that he wouldn't be so awful if he didn't think you could take it, and that he liked you because you could take it. Somehow the two of you worked, which meant that this thing you had going on couldn't work, not the way it was.

So you told him. Youstupidsonuvabitch, you told him. You told him that it was okay if he kept on fucking around with you and being sort of awful to you, as long as he knew that you loved him. Fuuuck, why did you say that? You ruined everything with that one idiotic, sappy sentence. Everything you'd come to enjoy was over now, fuckfuckfuck.

Except, well…it wasn't. Worth sort of just looked at you like you were crazy for a second, and then laughed. And curled a skinny arm around your neck and pulled you in for a kiss and called you a sissy little fag. And laughed some more, and you knew him well enough to know that, shit, you were off the hook. He wasn't kicking you out and telling you to never come back again like you thought he would. He was just laughing and holding you and kissing you, and holyfuckingbologna, it all started to feel pretty possessive of him. Like he didn't want you to try and run away like you probably would have wanted to after saying something so stupid.

And then he pulled you into his dingy little bedroom and started making the same old demands of you and your teeth, and you obliged him with only minimal bickering in return because, holy shit, he didn't hate you for accidentally falling for him.

You knew that your thing with Worth was going to fall apart eventually, but crap, you didn't think that that would equal an improvement.

(A/N)

Second-Person writing is actually a secret love of mine. I mean, I really enjoy it.
And somehow it's really fantastic for the whole ConWorth thing. I mean, I'm not even the first to do it. So awesome.

I hope this chapter isn't utter crap, regardless.

Much love,
Miyazaki A2