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Quote: They were in the middle of a war that was inevitable. The king smiled prettily, gazing at himself through half lidded eyes in the mirror. God, he couldn't get any more beautiful, could he? He sighed in content, fingering a strand of soft dark hair.
Sure, he didn't like war. War was too much work. But if it was war with the Spades, he didn't mind so much. Because Spades deserved to die, and he was more than happy to deal out the appropriate punishment. And he was pretty sure he was going to burn in hell for his attitude, but he'd enjoy his life on Earth as long as he could. After all, he was going to be immortalized. He was going to live forever, in the form of art, and writing, and because he was just so ******** amazing.
And there was another reason he liked war, but he'd never admit this.
Truth to be told, it was a certain person. Whom he hated with every inch of his body, but also nobody else seemed more worthy to deserve his admiration. She was perhaps the only person that could counter his every insult and idea, and hold her own against his arguments. She was the only person even close to his level of intelligence. And she was the only person who could come near him during the battles and almost give the fatal blow. She may not be as beautiful as he, but nobody in the world came even close to his beauty. He was the most beautiful person. In the universe. To ever exist.
He chuckled lightly to himself, moving a couple pieces resembling certain figures of authority on the battle plans. They were pawns, after all. And with a flick of his finger, they would come falling down. Then he reached over for the black piece which bore the form of a woman, holding it close to his face, before tossing it over his shoulder, leaving it to clatter on the floor and roll into some obscure crack in the ground.
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He rode, urging the horse on as fast as it could go. He didn't really care if it died on the way, he'd just get another one. But if it died before he reached his destination, or before the trip back, he'd have a bit of a problem. He'd worry about it if it came though. It was in the horse's best interest that it didn't die.
It may have taken a couple hours, and he was sweaty when he arrived (he still looked beautiful as ever) and he found her waiting by an old tree. He wiped the insulting liquid off his face with a hankerchief, smiling sardonically.
Trading insults was routine, as well as a miniature spar, and they finished in a glaring contest.
He was exhausted, in mind and body, and he was sure she was as well. Really, having traveled a long way and in neutral territory. And he was meeting an older woman, how scandalous. If he was found out, there would be hell to pay. And he'd bring her down as well, so she better hope he was not.
He was setting a bad example for his daughter(if she ever found out), but really, it wasn't his fault. It seemed like the Gods liked to play games, and even the King of Hearts could not win against a god.
They sat side by side in silence, and he realized how rare it was for her to hold her tongue, and for him to hold his. Peaceful. And it was sort of nice, if he could forget about her status and suit.
And under the swaying willow tree, they met, and they parted, because nobody would ever know and nothing could come about this sort of relationship.
a/n; oh my god, i cannot believe i just wrote that. i'm kind of in a state of shock. holy crap. omg. omg. omg.
 xxPuppy · Fri Feb 15, 2008 @ 02:50am · 0 Comments |
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