Chapter Text
This isn’t the first time, oh no definitely not.
There was The Girl, the one with strawberry blonde hair, whose hair smelled like Jasmines and fresh rain. Oh, how he pined. For years and years his mouth sang Her praises, for how utterly perfect the Girl was. Years and years of bemoaning Her oblivion; every kiss that wasn’t his, every look that passed him by.
So yes, The Boy knows what this is.
He knows it, oh-
Over and over again the words he read; every sappy love novel his eyes came across, hidden in a box with his Mother’s name.
Over and over the images on the Magic Box, colourful pictures set to sad music; pining heart throbs and weepy prom queens.
He’s memorised the ache he gets when he thinks about it. He knows its every motion, every tug at his lungs, and it’s-
It’s so familiar, this feeling-
This dull marching drum, this moaning weeping string quartet; this slow, addictive burn as he watches the man who calls Himself the Monster, and lets Him tear at his heart, pick apart his heartstrings.
He’s so well versed in the pattern, it’s like breathing.
He thinks, before he falls again: Maybe this will be the last time.
Because there He is, Monster; glistening sweat on His tattooed back, His teeth like a lion, His howl like a wolf. His red eyes burning holes and His hands rip skin; His claws like daggers, watching The Boy, His lips a scowl.
The Boy can feel it deep in his spleen, down in his dick, toothpicks in his trachea-
Unrequited Love.