Work Text:
PLAGUEBEARER POV
Day. Night. Afternoon. Dawn. All periods of the day are irrelevant. Each day that passes is just a delay for me, but also an advance in my plan, an advance in my goal, a small leap towards achieving what I want. But the days take too long, they only delay me, make me anxious. Anxiety kills me, slows me down. Thinking too much doesn't get me out of the situation I'm in, and yet I keep doing it. But it's not my fault, it's all his fault. He makes me think too much, he makes the day seem slow when I'm not with him.
I sigh as I get up from the floor, I could sleep in my bed but that way his smell would go away, and that can't happen... no. Why am I thinking about this? Why can't he get out of my head? Stupid boy, he only exists to delay my plans. We're nothing and I still keep thinking about this fool.
Day. A bit boring, honestly. I stay silent most of the time and only speak when necessary, unlike him. The town is already on fire, but he insists on fanning the flames, insists on making the flames worse, something that I honestly admire. But I can't admire. No, I have to be admired. I'm the God here, I'm the salvation of this town, things like admiration can't come from me.
Nervousness. I should make others nervous, but I'm the one who's nervous. Firebug is getting closer, and I'm scared. A huge weakness of mine, something I'm ashamed of, he's not even that scary... why am I scared?
-Hey Nathany.
My name sounds so beautiful in his horrible voice... everything sounds so beautiful in this bastard's voice.
-Can I go to your house? Watch a movie and those...
Movies. A huge lie. We've never finished a movie and he's been to my house thousands of times. We could have watched eight seasons of Doctor Who and the entire Star Wars saga, but instead we were... talking.
-Oh, sure.
Night. I hate the night. We're here—clutching and cuddling like two weak idiots, like two idiots in love. Really stupid.
-You were amazing Nath.
Nath. He dares to call me that. I should correct him, tell him my name is Nathany, that he has no right to call me that. But I'm so tired, so exhausted. I'll tell him tomorrow, I'm sure.
-Shut up, when you talk you try to look at me and move away from me a little...
Disgusting. How can I be saying such barbarities to someone...but his cute laugh makes me forget that this is disgusting. His gentle kisses, his soft touch, the way he's tightening the hug, the way he's kissing my head. I don't know why I'm allowing this, but the feeling is incredible, my cheeks get so hot, I hate smiling but I can't control my expressions while I talk to him, while I'm with him...
How can someone make me so weak?
-Do you want to be my lover?
This question is asked so many times but it still catches me by surprise. The urge to stop all of this is so strong, to end this hug and kick him out of my house and never see him again. But I can't, I just bury my head in his chest while I tighten the hug.
-No.
Bug must be used to these answers by now, or he should. He should stop asking, he knows the answer will be no—no matter how much I want to accept it. He knows our goals are different, that someone will have to die for the other to be happy. But he insists, insists on annoying me, insists on asking, believing that someday I will accept. An uncomfortable silence always takes over the atmosphere, every time he asks, every day, I hate it. I hate sudden silence, I wish the noise would never go away, or at least that the silence was optional, not inevitable.
-I love you Nath.
The silence is broken, but I still don't like it. His tone of voice doesn't sound cheerful at all, not like before, not like it was two minutes ago. How great! Such a good mood was ruined by a simple question.
-Same.
Dawn. The best part of the day, I guess. Every dawn I infect someone and end up meeting Firebug. I know, we've spent the whole afternoon together, but we only meet to say one last good night. The same thing always happens: we meet, I say good night, he hugs me and says good night. Every day, always the same thing, we're used to it as if it were a daily ritual.
And I wonder, how? How does he not get tired of doing the same things? After all, if we continue like this, we'll do the exact same things until the end of our lives. Someone has to die for the other to be happy, and doing everything the same as the day before only brings boredom until that day comes.
The floor is cold but it's more comfortable than the bed. The bed has sheets, the sheets smell like him, his smell makes me happy and happiness makes me weak. This idiot always makes me weak. Ever since we met, the first thing I should have told him was to get out of my life, so he wouldn't get in my way, but I didn't do it and now he keeps making me weak.
Maybe I should tell him everything I think tomorrow, tell him how he gets in my way and makes me weak, how he's just a burden in my life, how he's trying to get in the way of my plans. That way, I would also kick him out of my life. Finally I would tell him to go away, so he'll never set foot in my house or near me again. Maybe I'll do all of that tomorrow...or the day after.