Cross-Posted on Ao3 under the penname MsThunderFrost.

He'd said that he loved her.

It's three days after the confrontation with Tsubaki, and the pianist is seated at his desk. He's halfway through his mother's worn copy of Wuthering Heights, though he hadn't the slightest as to what the story was actually about - he's more concerned with the hedgehog that is still sleeping at the corner of his desk, his tiny body curled around the two halves of his name tag protectively.

That woman - Ophelia, was it? - had clearly meant a lot to the Servamp of Greed. Licht felt something dark and cold twist in the pit of his stomach as he recalled watching his Servamp sit beside that lifeless statue and sob. Only a few days before, Hyde was spouting on about how he was "nothing special", how, if he were to die, there would be countless others who could and would take his place, how he should simply accept his fate because he was human and humans, in their frailty, are bound to die sooner rather than later.

Licht was strong. He could hold his own in a fight, even without his Servamp nearby - even if he'd ultimately lost to Higan the first time they'd fought, he'd still put up one hell of a fight considering he'd already been weakened by their distance limitation. And yet Hyde was so sure that he would die. Die like the countless others that had come before. In the moment, the Servamp's complete lack of faith in him... in himself... had disgusted him. He had no time for people, or demons, who floated through their lives aimlessly, who had no ambition.

What did it mean to break a vampire?

Clearly, the Shit Rat wasn't dead. Though he'd been reduced to his hedgehog form, and had not so much as said a word since Tsubaki had broken his tag, he could feel the Servamp's nervous energy radiating off of him in waves. He was uneasy, probably wondering how long it would be until Licht decided he wasn't worth it and kicked him to the curb. He was next to useless in this form, after all.

So was it mental? Was this a prison of Hyde's own design, like what happened with Mahiru and Kuro when the fool had tried to interfere with his fight with Higan? Now that he knew the past that Hyde relived every time he played that song, he wasn't sure that anything Tsubaki could do to him would be more traumatizing. Ophelia. It felt as if his heart was pumping ice through his veins - was it possible to feel both pain and numbness?

He'd said that he loved her.

Was this what heartbreak felt like?

This was ridiculous. That woman had been dead for God knows how long, had chosen to die rather than be with the man she loved because she loved peace more. She'd ripped out Hyde's heart and served it to him on a silver platter and as long as he was bound to her, he would never be able to be whole again. All of the pain that he'd experienced, all of the pain that had led to him becoming the psychotic bastard lazing beside him now, was because of her. And look at what happened. The peace that she'd fought so hard for, that she'd lost her life for, had lasted only a handful of years... and then everything went up in flames.

He still loved her. Even after all this time, Ophelia still held his heart and Licht... for the first time in his life, the child prodigy hadn't the slightest about how he was expected to measure up. He had always been the greatest, born with the drive to accomplish anything that he truly set his mind to. He'd conquered the piano because he wanted to craft music that would bring tears to his audience's eyes. He constantly strived to become stronger because, as an angel, it was his duty to purge the world of evil and he couldn't do that if he couldn't even hold his own against a lowly subclass.

How could this woman make him feel so damn inadequate?

And why should he care whether that worthless sack of flesh loved a woman who was long-dead or not? If he wanted to wallow in his misery forever, that was his perogative. If he wanted to use his love for that long-dead woman to fuel his ambitions, instead of focusing on the one who was beside him now, then that was his problem. Not Licht's. And yet...

The Shit Rat lets out a pathetic little mewl, and there is a soft clink as his paw came to rest atop his broken tag. He wondered how long it would be until the demon grew a set and decided to face him man to man again. He let his eyes drift back to Wuthering Heights, realizing that he hadn't the slightest as to what was actually going on. With a sigh, he slammed the book closed with a bit too much force and tossed it onto the table with a huff.

God, he was jealous of a dead woman. How completely uncool.