Work Text:
He had everything he could ever want.
Gold spilling out of coffers, succumbing to his abundance.
Silk wrapped around his frame like a lavish, second skin.
Plush sheets to sink into at the end of a long night, to envelop him in a warmth that could rival an open flame.
Sweet red wine to saturate his tongue when he wakes up, the very beginning of his day marked by indulgence.
But what good was any of it?
He had everything his heart could desire, but it still felt as barren as a wasteland.
He had the power he craved and dreamed of for years, but now that his teeth’s finally sank into it, it feels empty.
Like biting into a biscuit filled with air, his mouth chasing an illusion, reality not being nearly as satiating as he envisioned.
Why?
Shouldn’t success feel good?
Shouldn’t he be standing on a mountaintop, overlooking the city of everything he’s worked so hard to achieve with a sparkle of pride in his eyes?
But instead, there’s tears. A rainfall that pours and pours, drowning his city of success in salt and maror.