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he'll tear him up. limb for limb, he'll be marked with his name.
nah. not his name- it was just like his twin's, afterall.
nah. for once, he didn't want to share. for once, he wanted something for himself.
it just so happened to be sam.
molotov. molotov. molotov. molotov.
that's what will cover the blonde's bones.
walton would carve and carve until he was stuck in barbie's core forever.
so even when he was done with him, he'll still be his.
the one's that dared come after him wouldn't be able to erase his mark.
the one's that dared come after him would want to kill him.
they'll curse his name, the very one that wood couldn't (and wouldn't) strip from his mind. the kisses and caresses they had shared, eternally imprinted on the sun kissed dermis. their moaning, intertwined and slowly becoming one, stuck to the inside of his ears with super glue.
and all of this? it wasn't planned. it wasn't something he wanted to do.
he never wanted that to happen.
not like this. not with him.
but his tarnished nature needed a tribute.
and he was just there. ready for the taking;
plucking had never been so easy.
he didn't want to contaminate him with his baggage.
sam was a bright man with a good future.
a loving person with a kind heart; warm hands and nice eyes.
a clean soul, through and through.
he was everything he wasn't.
maybe that was the appeal.
maybe that's why he couldn't resist going after him.
maybe that's why he couldn't stop thinking about him.
maybe that's why he took every opportunity to be with him.
maybe that's why he would bash someone's head for him.
maybe that's why he would kill for him
if it meant still having him all for himself.