Work Text:
꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚
The windows open, and the light transcends, your palms travel
among the infinities, once again you are present in every opportunity, I will remind you through my skin, because you will always belong to me.
꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚
Shadows dance through the corridors, with slight, uninteresting additions from the past.
To a timeless rhythm, odds and ends wandered and stairs went up, down, down, and up.
I have you strung.
For each object shared a different internal clock, intersecting with each change, the "tick-tap" echoing in the same space as each step advanced, without a fixed structure but with a deep-rooted complicity among them all, they attracted each other, they moved away, but nothing stopped.
They existed only to be seen.
Ensnared in my web.
Spaces closed, others opened; there were no clues or a guide to help him understand it better, purely a labyrinth of corridors that never ended nor began.
Each open door revealed a new room, or lured him in with an old one, and he passed by where it ended; or failing that, an endless series of repetitions of the same table, chair, furniture, and cutlery on those cedar shelves riddled with pests scattered throughout the Palace.
A candle burning slowly by the bed.
All illuminated by those tired candles that made him nauseous in the most sensitive spot of his nostrils.
Shadows tangle like a vine
Regardless of whether new or old, the only thing they shared was the snarkish laughter buried in every corner where they could hide, mocking his back, for who wouldn't feel fortunate to not have the same bad luck as someone else?
Even so, the young man paced around, oblivious to his surroundings, leaving faint footprints, carefully lifting his feet so as not to disturb the small, chirping bells he wore.
A meticulous care and agility acquired over time, simply for the sake of escaping. With a half-drawn map in hand and a pen marking every insignificant trace, clues to a connection or something, even if some point of convergence changed.
Finally moving away from the chambers where he was cornered.
With only one chance.
Just one.
Crawling up the posts within our shrine
The young man hurried, seizing every spare second, still holding the key, his ticket to escape.
A risky move, for there were rules, so many rules, that filled the space, leaving him breathless. He waited and waited, but finally, he succeeded.
And right now... you're mine.
Piercing whispers in his ears sent shivers down his spine, his heart racing. The thought of turning back crossed his mind. Maybe if he went in carefully again, she wouldn't have noticed.
All mine.
And even with those words echoing in his ears and the possible punishment, the agony of seeing the same ceiling again and again agitated his mind until he was lost in madness and wood.
He shouldn't give up, not now that he was so close.
Give in, you're mine.
He ignores it and continues on his way, deaf ears, undisturbed mind, or was it heart that doesn't see, heart that doesn't feel, well, it doesn't matter.
He tries the keys in every lock in sight, inspects every door, hallway, and crack he thinks he can enter through; the shadows murmur more, that he carves the pillars of the building with the edges of his nails and that he burns away like chalk.
All mine.
He ignores it and continues on his way, deaf ears, undisturbed mind, or was it heart that doesn't see, heart that doesn't feel, well, it doesn't matter.
He tries the keys in every lock in sight, inspects every door, hallway, and crack he thinks he can get into; the shadows murmur more, that he carves the pillars of the building with the edges of his nails and that he burns away like chalk.
All mine.
He twists his mouth in frustration, leaning against the wall. He sees the closed windows. It could be a key for a window or a gate, wherever it fits, but it must be for something important. It was the one he always carried in the small pocket of the gleaming suit he wore from head to toe.
That long-haired, bourgeois-looking idiot... he longs to smash that filthy key in his face. A fun fantasy to imagine, like the villagers used to hang rich citizens. If that even exists in modern times, being there has screamed at his neurons; he just wants to get out.
I love that you shake.
He couldn't stand it anymore!
With all that pent-up frustration, he kicks the lower part of the scum wood panel on the wall without remorse.
From this emerged a multitude of small metallic spiders, before slowly releasing the shriek. His two hands swatted away the noise as he backed away and shook off those eight-legged creatures.
When I ravage your skin.
He'd been here a long time, but when he finally decided to withdraw, he noticed a small bouncing light; there was something inside. He kicked harder, cracking the hole he'd created.
He smirked as he bent down and confirmed what he'd been expecting: a tunnel.
Without delay, he crawled as best he could. It was brand new and suffocating, filled with the characteristic dust that accumulates from not cleaning for so long. He crawled carefully, advancing little by little, tearing at his clothes with the debris that trapped him.
It's so easy to bite with your hands pinned.
It shrank more and it was impossible to return to its cats, it chokes on the dust, it must go on.
Shadows dancing on the sheets.
Little lights disperse, it was getting closer. With the last ally, it gives one last push, air at last.
He ends up breaking through the other side of the wall, emerging covered in Volvo and rubble, with the most sinister smile in the world.
The lights were many colors that adorned the new space, display cases, a wall of pure display cases, everything flooded, marking its space.
With a monumental spiral staircase of polished stone, he approaches without listening.
If you obey, I might give you a treat.
—Ha, don't be ridiculous...
He uncertainly places his foot on the first step, making sure it's firm, the second, the third, and he's already climbing that beautiful stone structure. The stained-glass windows accompany him, accelerating his heart more strongly, as well as the rhythm of his walk.
Right now, you're mine.
Not now, not anymore, and never.
He would be free, he would see his brother, his friends, the sky, everything, he would return again.
All mine (all yours)
No more. Fuck you, idiot.
Her steps faltered, almost causing her to fall, but it didn't matter.
The colors of the stained-glass windows contrasted with each other, on each step, one color changing to the next.
Give in, you're mine.
It made her dizzy and tired, but it didn't matter because...
Because... Because
All mine (all yours)
After many pleas and sleepless nights, she would finally be...
he would be free!
Free.
You look so good, there on your knees.
The air leaves him, his knees can't support another step and he collapses the moment he reaches the top, gasping for breath. He takes a deep breath because those words in the air won't let him get depressed.
He looks up, a door in the distance, a polished frame and a shiny gold doorknob calling to him.
He sighs, and with that comes a spontaneous laugh, unleashing a thunderous cackle, his green eyes watering, unable to contain all the emotion he's been experiencing.
—Yes...yes, yes, yes, ha! Finally!
He jumps up from the floor.
He was already on his way out, he had to catch up completely with his parents, who knew where he was, but he wasn't there anymore. Ah, the homework must be awful, but it doesn't matter.
he approaches the door without looking back, key in hand and longing to be with her family again. She inserts the key delicately; it fits perfectly. he holds her breath, turning away from the porn to her left. The glare blinds her as she enters.
What a good boy, he knows how to please.
he opens her eyes wide, the colors returning after the blinding light.
—Mhg, this is...
The high ceiling welcomes her like a breath of fresh air, the bed with its distinctive features, the spacious desk, and the small balcony with the only window open to the world... Her room.
—No... No, no, no... NO!
he gasps for breath in a millisecond, spinning dizzily. She turns quickly and desperately, looking back the way she entered.
Footsteps approach... He was there.
Him...
—Matsukaze.
Barely a whisper, he utters his name, revealing herself to him.
—I see you're having fun.
His footsteps were forceful, unlike her own, which remained silent in this castle.
His sea-blue eyes, sharp as daggers, fixed on a target.
He advances, claiming the space as his own; all of this is his.
—I'm so careless to leave this unprotected... Don't you think?
The key, polished and gleaming, is in his hands, seemingly untouched. He shows it, turning it on his finger with an almost imperceptible smile.
He approaches in a single movement, face to face. Her body trembles; she tries not to slump before him. He touches her hair, carelessly trying to push her away, but in one swift motion, he corners her against the wall.
Forget yourself, surrender your mind.
—Let me go!... You're hurting me.
He tries to move away, but every reckless move he makes only pushes him further against the wall.
—You are so slippery, all for something impossible, my love. You should forget about them by now. — he murmurs in his ear, taking his hands and pressing them against him.
—What you were, or thought you were, this is your new home, and I welcome you as one of our own. It doesn't matter if you're human; you're my dear guest."
He licks the smooth neck of his beloved possession.
—Food, water, and a good, beautiful roof over your head where you rest at night...
And suddenly, the pressure of his hands increases.
—And instead of being grateful.
His tone of voice changes.
—You break my rules...
It started to hurt, I felt the rope around my imprisoned wrists.
—You steal my things...
It hurts... It hurts a lot.
—And you end up running away from me... If you want to disappear so badly, try it now.
Right now, you're mine.
In a flash, he lets go, I fall to the ground, I feel the air hit my cheeks, I cough hard, feeling some light pats on my back.
—But I'm not angry.
He strokes her hair, as if what he did hadn't happened, his fingers moving delicately across her face, his hands passing over her cheeks.
—I just want you to understand one thing.
All mine (all yours)
—You'll never get out of here again.
Tears welled up as the dark-haired man in elegant attire
suffocated him in his arms,
"Give in, you're mine."
He couldn't take it anymore and only stopped fighting for a moment.
Which wasn't enough.
Angrily, he pushed him with all his might, running straight for the exit, without stopping or anything; he only wanted his brother in that moment.
His hand cornered him and with a jerked movement, he was thrown far away to the ground, his head hitting the stone hard, bleeding slightly from the back.
—And I thought you had understood... But you keep clinging on.
He said one last time to the blond-haired young man.
—Matsukaze.
The world spun around him, and he couldn't get up. The footsteps faded, leaving him alone, hearing the sound of the locked door.
—Matsukaze.
He runs, still disoriented, toward the door.
—No, no, no, no, no... NO!
He pounds on the door with both hands, his legs, everything he has, with utter desperation.
—Matsukaze... Matsukaze!
The pounding didn't stop; he desperately shouted his name.
—MATSUKAZE, PLEASE, LET ME OUT. MATSUKAZE, PLEASE... JUST... P-Please, Matsukaze...
MATSUKAZE!
He cries inconsolably, huddled against the cedar door, unaware that on the other side his pleas are heard by the raven-haired man, but not heeded.
The man puts the key back in his pocket, straightening his clothes. He sighs deeply, moving further away from what he had kept safe within those four walls he himself built.
Leaving the place with firm steps, she still had a few words stuck in her throat, just for the blond man she had reserved.
—I can't... You're mine... All mine.