10-26-2020, 06:35 PM
you are sacred because i have made you sacred.
B e e l z e b u b
How awful, to see her love, her Venus only when she sees him in her peripheral. But when their eyes meet, there is only Beelzebub standing there. He is a monument to decaying prayers and discarded dreams. Nothing more could be expected of him, really. He was born of loneliness and little else. Two warm bodies that met in the chill of an autumn night.
Glassheart had loved her awful son, despite who he was or who he would later become. But, she left. And sometimes he wonders if she’ll ever come back for him.
He shows no sign of the thoughts swirling and brewing in his mind when she answers. His smile remains flatlined. His eyes study her a while longer when she repeats the name back to him. Then she offers up a question of her own and his expression is bruised for a fleeting second. His mother, his only friend. The only thing in the world he didn’t want to break in two.
“She is. I haven’t seen her in a long time,” he confesses without letting the hurt bleed into his voice. Beelzebub wonders if he tore Cordis apart, would his mother’s broken heart bring her circling back? Would it echo across time and space until someone answered back?
Doubtful. Then he would be more alone than before, so he rids himself of the thought.
“Did Glassheart call you beautiful too?”
Each time he inhales, his ribs press just a little closer to hers. Breath by breath, he finds himself dreading being here a little less. It isn’t comfortable by any stretch of the imagination, but it isn’t standing alone with his thoughts either.
Glassheart had loved her awful son, despite who he was or who he would later become. But, she left. And sometimes he wonders if she’ll ever come back for him.
He shows no sign of the thoughts swirling and brewing in his mind when she answers. His smile remains flatlined. His eyes study her a while longer when she repeats the name back to him. Then she offers up a question of her own and his expression is bruised for a fleeting second. His mother, his only friend. The only thing in the world he didn’t want to break in two.
“She is. I haven’t seen her in a long time,” he confesses without letting the hurt bleed into his voice. Beelzebub wonders if he tore Cordis apart, would his mother’s broken heart bring her circling back? Would it echo across time and space until someone answered back?
Doubtful. Then he would be more alone than before, so he rids himself of the thought.
“Did Glassheart call you beautiful too?”
Each time he inhales, his ribs press just a little closer to hers. Breath by breath, he finds himself dreading being here a little less. It isn’t comfortable by any stretch of the imagination, but it isn’t standing alone with his thoughts either.
there is no burning that i did not create.
@[Cordis]