Fragile Security

King was afraid. King was always afraid. It was a niggling kind of fear that king always felt. It raced down his spine, warning him of dangers and demons, making him squirm and shiver.

He loved it when King was afraid. But he didn't want this kind of fear.

This fear was not caused by him. It was King's own weakness the left him whimpering when he thought he was alone. He seemed to forget that the monster that tormented him on a daily basis could also hear him cry.

He loved it when King cried. His salty sweet tears were wonderful when he licked them off king's cheeks. But he was crying for her. And that betrayed the point of all of this careful plotting, this gentle unravling. It was like opening a gift only to find an empty box.

Anti-climatic. Boring.

So slowly, he had picked apart King's mask. Showed him every truth, and then took that peice for himself with each gentle stroke of his hand on King's pale tear stained cheek. With every softly whispered 'I love you' he left king feeling even more alone.

But that was because he was alone.

His friends couldn't see. They didn't bother looking. They didn't have to see past the mask of his heroism. They just had to know he was strong.

He didn't care if King was strong or not. He just wanted to hold the broken, pretty boy in his arms. He wanted those salty tears to turn to blood. He wanted to take King apart just so, and hold him under a light for all to see. 'This is your hero.' he wanted to keep all of king to himself. He wanted to laugh at the broken pieces. He wanted King to crave his kiss.

He wanted absolute victory.

But she had stolen that from him. She left him broken and dirty on the inside, crying her name, instead of his. And that infuriated him. All this time he'd thought he was coming closer, he'd done it, King was all his because I know everything. All this time his victory was due to her. And that wasn't nearly as satisfactory as ripping King aparat himself.

He wanted to own king.

But his shaking fear of her made it impossible. He'd allow anything to happen to himself. But now that he'd completely broken king, he was weak, useless, easliy subject to her torment. King was his. That was simple fact, written in stone.

And he would put king back together, sew up every tear, glue together every crack, so that King would be completely his. Then it would be due to his hand and not her's that he was whole again. He hated doing this, he prefered tears, screams and fear over smiles, moans and happiness.

But he preferred winning even more.

King uttered another soft whimper, snuggling deeper into his arms. They could both see her, on the edge of their vision, they could see her. He wanted to banish her, tell her to screw off so that King would forget about her, and find out who his true nightmare was.

"She's not here anymore, King." he whispered, gently stroking his hair, itching to make King bleed. The things he had to sacrifice for victory. She laughed at him. He would never get rid of her. He would never win.

But he would, because he promised himself.

So he nuzzled King's cheek, softly kissing him, telling him there was nothing to be afraid of. Except for him, of course, but one nightmare before another. If he rushed this, there would be no point to his torturous unravling of King's soul. There'd be no point in kissing him so sweetly and then making him bleed.

There would be no point in owning king at all.

Anti-climatic. Boring.

He grinned at her from where he sat, watching her pretty yet ugly face. "I won" he whispered. "Now get lost." he grinned as her face turned ugly black with anger, and she shreiked in utter rage. She disappeared then. He turned to King, nudging him, showing him that she would never bother him again.

Then flipped him over and made sure he found out who he should truly be afraid of.

OWARI

it's shamed. I'm in dire need of inspiration, and I lost my pink pad. (Pouts) it had all of my 'ichigo whorelot' stories in it! Review.