Very quick warning this chapter won't much if any of the earlier fluffiness, relapses and darker themes will be featured and I am so sorry about it.
Hope you guys have been well flick me a message if there's any changes or suggestions you'd like, the baby chapter in Mathias' P.O.V should be next (fingers crossed) Exams have just finished so I've had plenty of time to try and write everything rapid speed (':
But dang I messed up the posting again and got side tracked by being thrown back into a school schedule bah! Silly me!
Once again I'm so so sorry for ruining the cutesy-ness of this near the end(ish) but have no fear! It should be back eventually much love UwU

the beast - Laura Marling

Now as many good points as Mathias had, one of them was not being a morning person. In fact if anybody so much as tried to talk to him first thing in the morning their head would be found on a spit somewhere. When Lars had woken up to the sight of a deep frown set on his mouth and the near murderous glint in his eye he was seconds away from shitting himself and praying for his life. However it didn't appear as if the Dane had just woken up and from the dark shadows under his eyes and the wine glass from nights ago being half full with water and an aspirin fizzing at the top it was safe to say he had another night deprived of proper sleep and possibly another night using the rest of the bottle of the previously half empty wine as a companion.

He almost thanked the heavens for the other not actually glaring at him but rather daydreaming about something unpleasant for when he said the other's name he blinked in surprise and he suddenly didn't look like he was staring through the Dutchman and actually saw him lying there. He came out of his state of dozing regretfully and had to force himself to accept the pause that left his hair unstyled and curling around the sides of his face and his freckles pencilled back in. But the space in between Mathias coming back to the real world an empty kind of loneliness weighed down his gaze before warm joy took over.

Even if Mathias didn't sleep he was never going to be a person to enjoy the mornings, a scowl would crawl onto his usually smiling features when light started to bleed into the dark and suddenly everything had shape. He hated that more than he hated nature and that ridiculous phobia of spiders Lars had only recently found out about. Mathias smiled tightly at him once it'd sunken through his head that Lars was still lying there and turned his attention back to the book on his lap that had the pages falling out from the spine, the edges of the paper yellowed with age and the cover barely legible. His phone sat in the centre of it. But there was a cure to Mathias not being a morning person, there were two ways to fix his mood, a good book, or a run to the nearest Starbucks for a salted caramel mocha. Preferably both.

On the rarest of occasions if Lars was lucky enough he'd occasionally wake up to Mathias snuggling on his chest, his fingers tracing out invisible masterpieces on his arms and chest until he woke up, the Dutchman half expected to find him beseeching for his undivided attention when he opened his eyes to the messy of blonde hair that belonged to the man who acted strangely affectionate some mornings. But usually he'd noticed that the other's hair would smell faintly of grass and there would be green staining his elbows suggesting he'd been frolicking in the nearest grass patch to pass time. Though that morning he rubbed his swollen, sleep deprived eyes and faintly he could smell coffee coming off the other's sigh.

It was obvious that, that morning wasn't one of those good mornings.

"I like books that look like they've been loved." He held up the paperback, careful not to let it fall apart in his hands. "You can just tell what parts people enjoyed most, if words are underlined, or if there's notes in the margin or even the corners of the pages have been folded over so many times there's a permanent crease. I just really love well loved books."

"Mathias now isn't the time for talking."

He stuck his tongue out, rubbed at the dark circles under his eyes and put the novel off to the side. Half expecting him to disappear off somewhere in the flat, Lars instead had a lapful of Dane and skeletal fingers splayed on his chest.

"So what is it the time for?"

"You looked like you were going to kill me a few minutes ago why the change?"

"Why not? Got bored of being irritated."

"You're weird."

His nose scrunched up cutely and he pushed off his lap to roll onto the side of the bed he'd previously claimed. Rolling his eyes the Dutchman took the other's hand and gave his fingers a squeeze, their heads turning in perfect synchronisation to catch each other's eye and the smile that set Mathias' expression alight made Lars feel as if he knew some terrible secret about the Dutchman that he didn't know about himself. There was nothing sad in it, only mirth and something a little darker and in all honesty he looked like the most beautiful creature Lars had laid his eyes on.

Because despite the fact that it looked as if Mathias knew something horrible for a split second, just the slight curve of his lips not matching the look in his eye, hungry maybe, passionate as ever, it felt like they were holding more than just each other's hands but rather their hearts.

"Are we going to get up today? I feel a bit cooped up." He said shattering the deadly sweet thoughts bouncing around in Lars' head. He nodded and sat up, the hand not tangled in the other's trying to tame his hair half-heartedly. After looking at each other a little blankly for a few minutes Mathias sighed and dragged himself up to sitting. "Do you think if we were a story they would have gotten bored of us by now?"

"Why?"

"Well, if it were my point of view it'd be a bit gross and all over the place but I imagine that it'd be continuously them having to read into how we are from the start till the end of the day, you at work, me with coffee, you at home, me out, you being all cute and red faced and me laughing my ass off at you rather than with."

"We would have shattered their fourth wall with that realisation Mathias. Unfortunately for anything watching people's lives in any shape or form it'd get very repetitive."

"I guess you're right." He stretched his arms above his head until his joints popped before he left for the bathroom. Lars could say before all of this, before the strange little Dane he wouldn't have been anything close to content with his life. Which was sad, but he could now admit that his heart was disgustingly hugely happy at the smell of new and old books on the other's skin when he did come home from work, or when they were able to hold hands and sit in a comfortable silence. The difference between the both of them however in their levels of happiness were that Mathias even if he bore a smile it remained troubled and that his looks deceived the fact that he was anything but pure minded. However for Lars his smile was only there when he was so far away from his troubles it was hard to believe they existed.

For an example the hour or two in the mornings where they didn't have to do anything but worry about how much hair gel they used or what shoes Mathias wanted to wear with what outfit.

Or when for another couple of untainted hours of bliss that day Mathias had forced Lars into something decent and had dragged him out to see the city and to his complete surprise a short trip to the docks for a boat ride. Lars almost sent a prayer of thanks out to whoever created the waterways in Belgium for it gave him the chance to see the rawest smile on the Dane's mouth when he'd run to the very edge of the railing, looking at if he were about to be sucked into the depths of the water if gravity decided to actually pull him in.

The sun was scintillating down so pleasantly on the both of them, Lars had left trying to keep as much skin bare as was socially acceptable to try and get some tan pigmenting his skin whereas Mathias had taken the opposite approach, lathering sunscreen on under his usual foundation to keep him from tanning and went further with wearing clothes that concealed the alabaster complexion, claiming that tan lines were generally undesired in his line of work. The gentle lap of water was so enticing under the sun that left him feeling a little light headed and he was surprised that Mathias didn't show any signs of being affected by it, his constant laughter and mindless chatter filled where Lars half expected to find complaints.

Mathias again radiated that same wealth he had only a few days ago, his glasses lined with gold and his smoky coloured fur coat would have looked ridiculous on anybody else if it weren't for when Lars was on the verge of questioning his choice of clothing he'd held up a hand to silence him and the stare set on the Dutchman was enough to freeze the words in his throat 'It's Chanel.'

Apparently the brand was enough of an explanation. He'd accepted it and stayed a good distance behind Mathias as he'd run off to the closest coffee shop that sold triple shot espressos before they went to the rivers. The amount of strange looks he got was undermined by the amount of people who stared at him in awe, vaguely Lars begrudgingly accepted if he were going to be with the Dane for the rest of his life this is how it'd have to be and he himself would have to step up his game.

On second thought that coat did look incredible.

Probably smelt it too.

Mathias eventually turned away from how the water moved against the sides of the boat and remembered Lars was there and wrapped his arms around his waist, his smile big and childish and his eyes crinkling at the corners. If the Dutchman had let himself drink in the sight for any longer he would have been able to feel his teeth rot at how devastatingly sweet the other looked with such affection in his eyes. Rather he let the blood boil in his veins so compassionately and ducked his face against the other's shoulder to smother his nose in the soft fur that covered his body. He could hear the other hum along to some song playing in the background that he'd faintly recalled hearing on the radio and Mathias hugged him tight until he could almost believe that he'd conquered his own fear of being in another person's grasp.

It really was a perfect start to the day, despite the ghastly expression that had clouded the other's features in the morning it had taken a turn for the better and Lars can to the awareness that he'd just been taken out on a date. It took him all his will power and then some to not start smiling and to red from tinting the back of his neck. The sun wasn't even able to project it's beauty more than Mathias' sweeter sides to his personality were then. His own existence was being regarded with the wholeness of the Dane's heart and he couldn't believe somebody adored by so many was pouring his love in Lars.

If he thought he were light headed from the sun earlier it was nothing compared to how he felt then.

There was no hint of the mask that was usual thrown haphazardly into a default grin, though Lars wouldn't say all masks were all terrible. Mathias and he'd admit even in himself there would be more confidence when they weren't revealing their real selves, especially for the Dane who had made it evident he was uncomfortable with his real self. But for that moment he saw that boyish smile with the childish crinkles in the corners of his mouths where dimples formed and he could safely say he was being granted access to the thinnest wall and most natural version of Mathias. He ran his fingers across the sides of the other's chin, his nails catching on the plastic of his shades to pull them back and press their lips together comfortably for several perfect moments.

Silently he could hear the other begging to be allowed to get carried away in their restrained embrace. Lars pondered briefly as he returned back to his previous position if it were to forget things, or if it were for the physical contact, or if Mathias himself was experiencing the weightless and almost free feeling that Lars was enveloped in. It felt like a bird discovering it's wings for the first time and all he wanted to do was to fly away with the Dane. Away from all the toxins of other people and the venom in their words, away from the lethality of illness and into the haven of security and strength. Where Lars wouldn't feel awkward talking to people, worrying constantly if his every single word was being judged. He was bland and quite plainly boring most of the time when he wasn't (lightly) teasing the people around him. He'd talk about pointless things, resembling the random drivel that usually was articulated from Mathias' mouth. He'd once thought he never had anything special to say until he'd caught that whenever he spoke Mathias was hanging on the end of his every word like it was the most scandalous gossip or deepest secret ever told when in all reality it was nothing but Lars trying to express his thoughts in either the smallest amount of words as was humanly possible or even the longest possible paragraphs that Mathias coveted and captured for himself.

Just as much as he loved exploring the blonde's absurd mind in ample detailing, he found that the other loved doing the exact same thing right back.

The song of birds and gradually building blow of the wind was entirely tuned out as Lars became absorbed in vivid sensory details to do with the blonde. The way his breathing sounding just a little off and his lashes were long enough that when he blinked it looked more like he was wafting the air away from his face with them rather than merrily blinking, or how his fingers only just drew circles into the Dutchman's upper back. His thin frame leant with the wind, and his hair caught under his shades moved with his body. Even layered up Mathias looked hauntingly fragile, as if his proud coat of faux fur was a shield rather than a statement.

Water hit the Dutchman's fingers and he pulled away to examine them, looking up he felt more water spit on his cheek and he frowned deeper than usual at the heavy drops. Mathias laughed openly at his expression before pulling his bag over his shoulder to dig around in it's depths, he pulled out a simple black umbrella and rather quickly had it open and above his own head.

"Do you have everything in there Mary Poppins?"

"Have fun getting wet sweetie." He smiled and pulled his close to his own head, tilted just so that Lars could see his amused smile but was sheltered from his gaze as the sky began to let out a bellowing roar from the clouds.

If the sky were a person it were as if all the bad memories, cruel deeds and vile words that spewed from the souls of people who have done wrong, wrong, wrong had been collected up and were finally overflowing into the world below to wash it all away, the rain picked up and Lars very much began to regret his choice of clothing as he was doused in water. The sky's tears coating him unpleasantly. Scowling he yanked the rim of the umbrella away from the Dane's face to tuck in under beside him where he shivered where the icy droplets had hit his bare skin and raised goose pimples that was situated in random patches over his form, specifically in the places where the now damp clothing clung to his body.

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

xxx

Even in a city that definitely wasn't anything like Frankfurt the Dane had managed to be the centre of attention to many of the younger girls. He really was a star in the famous sort of sense, personally he was a different kind. Their eyes sparkling with admiration and bodies that turned to gooey puddles if Mathias had pulled away at any point to acknowledge their bashful stares. Lars would sit with his fingers drumming restlessly against his crossed bare arms until the other returned and for the time in between he had jealousy making his skin crawl. Some of whoever had engaged in conversation with the Dane would cast brief attention in his direction, recognition of some sorts having them stumbling over their words and back tracking on their previous, flimsy flirtations that had completely bypassed the blonde. One of them however, had the nerve to ask if Mathias was with anybody outright and taken aback Mathias had nodded jerkily, smiling over his shoulder to the Dutchman before catching the disappointment in the young girls face.

"Well if it doesn't work out I could always be your wife." She said easily, winking at the Dane before tossing her hair over her shoulder and leaving them alone. Mathias, flattered and radiating just the tiniest flare of awkwardness shuffled back. Ripping open a candy wrapper he popped a gob stopper in his mouth and smiled sheepishly. They didn't speak until they were halfway home and Mathias was fidgeting under the weight of irritation being pushed towards him from the Dutchman.

"I...don't think she's very up to date on what I've been doing for the past few months."

"Mhm." Lars would not be discouraged by the way the other's tongue rolled around the candy held between his teeth. He would not succumb to the phantom voice in his head telling him to replace it with something that would benefit the both of them. It wasn't because he had restraint oh no, it was the fact that Mathias knew exactly what he was doing.

"Are you annoyed?"

"Of course not."

"Yes you are."

"Is it really that obvious Mathias?"

Mathias laughed to himself and slung an arm over the Dutchman's shoulder, his face nuzzled into his neck and his fingers tickling just under his chin like one would a cat. "I love you?" His teeth cracked into the hard shell of the gob stopper and the Dutchman grimaced.

"I hope that hurt."

5, 4...

Lars managed to keep himself calm from the transition of outside to in, his footing even his breathing even more so. His control was pristine for all of three seconds, and in the time he managed to dump unnecessary layers on the back of the couch and his shoes by the door. Mathias slipped in behind him, a path of water drops following him where he went and each splatter of second hand rain sounded like gunshots in the Dutchman's hypersensitive ears.

3, 2...

The Dane was wringing out the sleeves of his coat over the balcony by the time Lars had turned to look for him, pointless really, when the rain was still pouring overhead and if anything was making it wetter than what he was trying to achieve. Lars pulled it out of his hands, the heavy material falling back inside on the wooden floors with a wet slap that he ignored with little effort. Mathias looked at him in confusion, an eyebrow raised and mouth open as if he were going to speak however anything he was going to say was swallowed up but Lars' tongue being pressed against the backs of his teeth and the Dutchman's hands cupping his face to draw him in as close as humanly possible.

1.

He yanked him back through the sliding doors, walking him back as soon as they were in the warmth to press his damp back against one of the bare brick walls. Mathias looped his legs around the Dutchman's waist, pushing himself up the wall which acted as a perfect support for their combined weight. Lars' attention shifted from forcing the other's lips to swell to scattering evidence of his being there down the curve of chilled alabaster skin. He bit down, a hair away from splitting the skin and the other practically sang out a high pitched shriek, Lars felt a sharp pinch in his arms at the other's nails digging in as it droned down to quick pants for air laced with the sweetest, quietest moan. They collapsed together against the wall, hands fumbling sloppily over what bare skin they could touch. Taking in what they could of each other physically.

"Oh fuck..." Mathias groaned, his stubby nails doing what they did best clawing lines into his skin.

"I could do that."

"Oh HIL-arious." The Dane growled into the empty air before he forced his lips down on Lars', their teeth and tongues coaxing moans into their shared breath for what felt like a forever of clumsily rutting into each other. Their kissed untimely and messily, Lars letting his frustration act as the fuel behind each sharp nip and too tight grip on the underside of Mathias' thighs. The beat of their hearts throbbed through their bodies and leached passion from space between them as galaxies of space clouds in the forms of bruises spilled like ink on the Dane's skin with each passing moments that the bites and suckles from earlier had been given time to blossom into something much more artistic. Breath sounded ugly in the Dutchman's nostrils, ragged with the effort of keeping up with the reckless exploration of the enthusiastic tongue of the other who's pants of exertion and lap of tongue against the underside of his own mouth coated his skin in an electric layer of excitement and anticipation.

Mathias' lips gradually grew softer on his own, the hands around his neck a dead weight and he had to use all the strength he had to keep the blonde up. Exhaustion had taken it's toll on him and countless nights of deprived sleep had led him to crash at oh just the MOST convenient moment. Lars laughed into his neck as he dragged the nearly fully unconscious blonde to the bed and let him fall asleep, he'd fixed his own problem with his trusty right hand and a box of tissues and he could have sworn he'd heard Mathias laugh before they both lapsed into complete silence. The Dane snoring soundly and Lars being lulled to sleep by the sound of his deep, even breathing and the faint rhythmic beating of his heart.

His eyes snapped open just as he was entering the purgatory between sleep and consciousness when the other stopped breathing altogether and sat up so suddenly.

He felt a shift of weight beside him and he looked up to find his partner in a similar position to one he'd been in not too long ago, however he was trembling his eyes wide open as if he were entirely immersed in the wall opposite him. Though what interested him most, was how the Dane had his hands clasped around his ears and the slightest shift on the balls of his feet had him rocking backwards and forth. If Lars strained hard enough he could hear him mumbling to himself. Cautiously he placed a hand on the Dane's arm and almost like he'd broken a spell Mathias snapped out of whatever he was under and looked down at Lars like he was staring at a stranger. Again nostalgia from the morning before hit him like a storm and the same loneliness that had been haunting Mathias' gaze lingered behind the blue.

He licked at his cracked lips, voice hoarse and weak smile trembling from the effort of keeping it there. "Lars. I need it again."

"Need what?"

"The stability you took away from me." He looked back to the wall, nails starting to rake down the skin on his arms. "I've been cold turkey for too long, the voices came back...the pills stopped working I'm sure you know how it works doc."

He stayed quiet, unsure of how to respond and it turned out it didn't mean a thing if he had chosen to speak up. Mathias continued the one sided conversation with ease. And Lars listened intently to his shattered vase, choosing the option of walking over the shards than tip toeing around the outside so the truth didn't cut him. The hair on the backs of his neck rose and his breath cowered in his throat but still he did not move from his spot beside the other.

"Did you know I've hurt people Lars, did you know I've felt their blood on my hands. Did you know the devil had taken possession of me in those moments and the people being affected by it have seen it in me. Did you know one day I might lose control, what if I hurt you Lars? What if I fucked up and hurt you?" Dignity slid of the other's shoulders as he spilled the secret Lars had long since suspected. He didn't react instead the Dutchman just shook his head and continued to keep his hand on the other's arm as a kind of comfort, or an attempt at one. Mathias' eyes looked intoxicated by his own words, glinting with regret before the red light of his lighter turned to it cinders and was replaced with nothing. Looking at him Lars had been witness to somebody leak out until they were empty.

Lars nodded in approval and Mathias looked like he were about to cry out in relief.

Mathias passed him the half smoked cigarette and rose from the floor, his footsteps so light it appeared as if he were gliding on the flooring, so silent Lars had to question himself if he were just seeing a ghost of the man who had appeared to lively only hours before.

Sometimes it was so easy to forget he wasn't all quite there. The human suit of normality had been perfected and so polished Lars saw it so much easier than what lay underneath.

He crept behind him, his hands going around his waist to pluck the syringe from the Dane's grip and instead of letting the other utilise it for himself, he did it for him. Lars pulled the fabric of his sweaty briefs down his thigh until a decent strip of skin was visible, he'd seen enough to know where to put it and rather than let the other litter his arms in pin pricks he pushed the tip of it into his leg with his lips at the other's shoulder.

Mathias' hands were in his hair the moment it passed through the skin, arms looking unnatural in their stick-like thinness as they contorted to a comfortable position behind the Dane's head to get at Lars'. Eye contact wasn't broken as he pushed down on the end of the syringe to grant Mathias the chemical high he'd been thirsting for. Lars would have allowed his mouth to water at the hushed moan of air that escaped the other's lungs, if it weren't for the situation. Once the contents were pushed from the tube and were pulsing around Mathias' bloodstream did it remain abandoned on the edge of the sink and Lars' hands smoothed over the faint ridge where the tip of the needle had broken skin. Faintly he felt salt water tears splash on his arms and run down the blonde's chin. He was accepting his own weakness, his dependency.

He would have felt disgusted in himself for finding just a little pleasure in taking control of the situation, of having such control over somebody so wild. It was like a new kind of clarity, he tried to deny himself from enjoying the sensation of being in control of how such a significant string on the Dane was pulled.

Monsters lurked behind the Dane's resigned eyes, a living lie of purity trying to mask the creature that hide behind his stare. Lars wouldn't tell lies and say that it wasn't alluring, that he didn't enjoy seeing the weak structure of Mathias' walls fail to hide what lay beneath. When he had thought he'd been spending too much time around Mathias he had been correct, he was accustomed to the fucked up things that ran rampant in the blonde. And he enjoyed the cold dead heart with the desire for sin that he'd been able to witness for a matter of seconds before cement that had been branded illegal managed to build the concrete back up and it was gone.

With evidence of Mathias' previous rambling he could safely say what monster he'd seen before he'd scared it away could be put on par with the devil. Strangely enough he couldn't care less that he'd fallen in love with it, because it along with the body it wore loved him the same way it loved the flames licking along the walls of hell.

He spoke the other's name just to taste the syllables on his tongue as he led him back to bed, trying to see past what he had just let him indulge in, what he'd just hand held him and led him back into. The relapse, the now ruined progress. He tried to just see the man with platinum hair and an infectious laugh and who carried the ability to make one lose control at a single sight of him like a badge of honour. It made Lars squint to try and ignore the crazed flickering of his eyes, never staying on one object for too long but never blinking, never seeing. If he could dip his toes into the surface of sleep maybe he could pretend the frantic hands on his arms were gentle touches, that the quick breath was caused by moments of an intimate nature that they ought to have savoured from earlier.

He rubbed his thumb against the teary cheeks so he wouldn't have to remember his sin.

xxx

The first thing he could tell when he came home was that something was off, despite the tension that had set the air electric before he left it felt like it had short circuit and escalated into something worse. The first thing he saw was Mathias' profile, his posture stiff, his eyes vacant and the colour in his irises dull compared to their usual vibrancy. It was almost painful how Lars failed to notice the most obvious change in demeanour. Even though Mathias' lips were pressed in a thin line that complimented his otherwise dead looking eyes, a thick streak of red created the illusion of that mouth smiling around the tube of nicotine that was very close to burning out. The last thing he noticed was the number of cigarette butts at the Dane's feet next to a bottle of bleach and a dirty rag that set off Lars' need for cleanliness.

Mathias arched his head up slowly, his jaw tensing before he tipped his attention from whatever it was Lars couldn't see to the Dutchman himself. His split lip was enough to explain where the source of blood came from, bruising maimed his left cheek.

"I just saved your ass. They put a hit on you, I'm sorry. You can thank me later." He said numbly before rising from his seat and making his way to the way to the bathroom, his clothes being left in a crumpled pile after every step. The sound of the bath being run filtered through the crack of the barely open bathroom door until it was forced shut with a whisper and a click and Lars was left entirely alone in the open space.

Lars moved forward, his joints sounding ancient and his every movement an omen. He almost regretted taking those steps around the corner, he didn't understand why he didn't run, why he didn't call for help, why the first thing he didn't do was scream. Maybe he'd been expecting something like this, people weren't always perfect, everybody had their demons.

But this was too much.

This wasn't right.

He held a hand to his mouth as bile met the back of his teeth and he took a shaky step back as he stared down at the lifeless heap that had once been a living, breathing person. A pistol in one hand and their neck twisted at an unnatural angle he tried to fight the convulsions in his chest that urged him to add to the gore. He should have run, he should have been running, he still could, he could do so much more than collapse to his knees beside the bleach and scrub at the already spotless floor.

Hope fell from his eyes and suddenly he saw clearly, everything and nothing made sense.

This wasn't right.

But he wasn't leaving.

That wouldn't be right.

Not now.