Fran's POV

I blinked my eyes as the bright light of the sunrise came across my eyes. I rolled over and tried to fall back asleep, knowing that it was early and that sleep for me was so precious, even one moment was welcomed. For a few moments I lay still in the cold, wet sheets of my bed. I smelled like sweat. How much longer can I do this to myself? How much longer will it take for me to finally move on? To except that we will never happen. That 'we' is just an illusion. Just another one of my illusions. I pushed myself towards the shower. I had someone to impress now, didn't I? No. I didn't. I was impressing the air. Stringy sweat-dripping hair hung in front of my face as I turned on the hot water. I wished I was a girl. It wouldn't be so hard to except if I was a girl. Girls like guys, guys like girls. That's the way it goes. A guy doesn't like a guy. The boiling water of the shower splashed against my neck, and I could feel the heat against my cheek. I turned the cold on a bit before stepping into the shower, making no move to actually clean myself. These showers were mostly meant for cleansing myself of myself, so there was no need. I felt the warm water wash away the sweat from my troubled dreams, but I did not feel clean. I would never feel clean. I would scrub my skin raw, but the outside of myself wasn't the problem. It was the filthy inside. The inside that refused to except that I was... What was I? Who was I? I was a sixteen year old boy in love with a eighteen year old boy. I turned off the water, but did not get out of the shower. Instead, I sat down on the floor and pulled my knees up to my chest. I let my hair hang around my face like a curtain, and did nothing to stop the silent tears roll down my cheeks.

I stayed there for two hours before Lussuria knocked.

Belphegor's POV

Was I the only one who noticed when he was gone? He would be gone for hours at a time, but everything would move along as always. Was I the only one who noticed that he sat in the shower every morning for at least an hour? Was I the only one who cared?

"Bel-Sempai, it doesn't suit you to look like you're thinking." I heard Fran say. I looked up from my bucket of strawberry ice cream and sneered.

"The Prince suits everything." He arched his back and stretched, yawning.

"Well, your a fallen prince so that doesn't apply to you." I barely felt any ager towards him anymore. Mostly, I felt sad. But Princes aren't supposed to be sad. So what else is this prince?

"Are you asking to be stabbed?" I asked, pulling out a knife from my sleeve.

"Sempai, it's to early for that." He said. I withdrew the knife.

"Froggy, don't you realize that it's already ten o clock?" I picked up my spoon and took another bite of my cold ice cream. Maybe if I couldn't freeze my feelings for him, I could freeze my brain from thinking about him. Even if it was temporary. He casually brushed his silky green hair off his shoulder, and I stuffed my face in the ice cream bucket to keep from grabbing him and pinning him against the wall. He was just so... Defenseless. So delicate, so innocent. He was so intriguing to me... I threw a knife his way, and it buried itself in his hat.

"Bel-Sempai, what did I say about it being to early?"

"The Prince can do whatever he wants, no matter what peasants think." Lussuria appeared and wrestled my ice cream away from me, scolding me and warning me that my teeth would rot if I kept eating it for breakfast. I wasn't listening to him, but watching as Fran disappeared around the corner to the living room, and wondering if that was just a flash of sadness and pain I just saw. I got up and wiped my mouth with my sleeve. Without a word, I went to my room and lay on my bed in silence. I loved him, and that was that. And he would never know. Because if he knew... He might reject me, and I knew that was the one thing I wouldn't be able to heal from.

The Prince is a failure.