The Brat-Prince

7:19am: A gun; 22. calibrated by make.
The note was a tender prospect. One which germinated into the arrest of their love; whilst the pair of hunters had become equally captured. A flare all of his own -- the woman would be enamored firstly with one touch of Sebastian. And a second of Mr. Whisper. A gun; 22. calibrated by make. Design of white ivory and red trim. Silver encased the barrel. It was a small fashioned. Obviously custom. It was found in her purse. With a note, attached to it, as well. One that covered the nefarious spire of the pistol. It read This is the dangerous side. After the humor took, the back had actual instructions. Details of the safety, the hammer. Nothing of reloading, yet. With a promise of more thorough lessons the next night. Buried deeper, was a weapon and carrier permit. How could that be possible? Connections had cunning ways and money was a good conversationalist.

3:02am: The handwriting lacked a finesse. But the words endeared a meaning of articulation, befit of the brat-prince and his charismatic ways. The man, for no other reason then to do so, had left her a letter. One speaking of the night past -- where they didn't eat at the fancy restaurant, just continued to devour one another. How days had been good and nights bad. It was an amazing transition -- a everlasting, mutual growth. Even down to her provocative ways of tempering his beast. To his protective nature over the tantalizing woman. The letter was as pragmatic as his lackluster smile.

`` I love you .. ``

The words were etched on a paper, left in whatever assortment she had prepared for work on the day prior.

4:51pm: Buckled up for the ride
. . . It was unlike him. But then again, Sebastian was constantly wondering, who he truly was. Beyond the show, glamour, drug addictions and heavy drinking, what truly made him who he was? Thoughts, so serious to some, were casually mused over, as some random station played the latest hits. The new truck. SUV -- for the kid, you know? How soft he'd become. So much had changed. To emphasize the revelations, he glanced at the rear view mirror, to look upon the empty baby seat. Soon Kuriel would out grow that, as well. The car was new, Lincoln Navigator. The Escalade was to gaudy, even for him. Gaudy .. Something caught his eye. The brilliant sheen. Sleek body. A panther -- king, amongst those around it. Sebastian cut some young punk off, veering into the turning lane. U-turn accomplished, he slowed down, obnoxiously .. Ah, the benefits of the bigger vehicle.

There was a grin on his lips and whispers in his mind .. Indulge .. Come on. You're the best. You are the last. You're siting on a fortune. You going to let a girl and kid slow you down? Just make sure they are buckled up for the ride .. Come on Seb .. Another amusing notion. Red wouldn't need to be conditioned for fast rides, but then again, Sebastian was a madman, when times needed such. After manipulating voices convinced himself that such was the desired course, he steered in. Parking. Inwards walked the brat prince, dressed like some shanty, inane, laborer. The glasses, not for style but corrective vision, spoke a bit of the paradox which was him. The Aston Martin. V12. Vanquish. Sophistication. Power. Corrupted. Sebastian, king of the concrete jungle, looked upon the chariot of choice. Such a manifestation of grins. Walking by it, ignoring the mans plea not to touch, a seductive hand lulled over it, caressing the fine curves of it's contour. Aristocratic bad boy, debonair of a lost age. Noble to a plagued blood line. His thoughts returned to the car. An amazing machine. Utter prime. At the pinnacle of it's class. It was his. He spoke such aloud, telling them to get the paper work ready. There wasn't any mistake in his voice, only a rather brooding stare at the man who'd the audacity to speak to Sir Whisper about the price. Shaken, he stumbled to his own workings of the upcoming deal.

Sebastian was admiring his car, paying hedonistic adulation to it's master piece .. When another caught his eye. Singing soft cords of it's own appeal, slowly luring him away from his darkness. To the cherry interior .. White exterior. Bomb in a small package. Nefariously fast, stunning. It cried Red. Corvette. With a small hustle, he leaped into the driver seat. Fixing his hair, utilizing the mirrors, even firing off a corny grin -- chewing gum. That was it. The seed planted, the water of his eccentric nature bolstering it's germination. Two cards presented to the man at the desk. Barking orders for them to get him what he wanted, Sebastian reverberated amidst the pseudo reverence, until he wished to play out his ploy.

In the Corvette, he went. Off to the club, where he'd find her, working over a small crowd of wide eye'd suits, ogling the goods they knew nothing about. And would be denied. Sebastian played coy. Teasing her, as she did him. Attempting to coax her into sexual favors, sexual splendors; but what was kinky foreplay without lavish toys? They were on their way outside, so she could see her new one.

11:20pm: In the eyes of a prince, you are beautiful
. . . In the mind of madness; I can feel it. Every day. It whispers the lewd promise of freedom. A freedom I had forsaken. Rebellion was truly in the mind. My insanity isn't an outlet of anything but rage, fear and confusion. It wasn't my family, but I, who had condemned myself to the hellish bowels of the darkness in my own mentality. An abyss, a nexus of escapes, yet I stayed in the ugly. I feared I had lost myself. I killed them all, or did the next best thing -- and when I was done, I was empty. A true abyss, in which even if I willed it, I could not escape. There was little life in my soul. What then, brought me back? My triumphant return to humanity. To sanity .. To my son.

It donned on me, then. I shifted, my eyes fell on her. I loved her. And she saved me. She was at peace. The demons of her own at ease. I had put a great responsibility upon her soft shoulders. It was unfair. I wanted to care, but I didn't. I just wanted to love her, have her; i wanted her to love me. To be an us. But regardless of how this ended, which to my own dismay I fear may be with her in the arms of another and my jealousy consuming that frail bond of logic .. That isn't important. She was. What she had done for me was. I shouldn't have, but I brushed against her, pulling a few strands from her face. Greed. I didn't wish to wake her, but risked it, I wanted to see her. Greed. She had saved me.

There was no passion in my life. Ambition gone. Goals were useless. Until her. She had lured me into her web, and i thrived on the shock I garnered from her when she realized I too was a spider. We toyed with one another the first night. It wasn't then, though. I returned, on another night, for no other reason then to do so. We sat. We drank. We talked. I became infatuated. I wanted her. More so when she smacked me for making a move, to brash. My charisma .. This off bravado of mine had failed. I submitted to defeat. I drove home. Towards home .. The road was long. Cold. Unforgiving and black. Leading me to nowhere. I knew what laid down this broken road. I had to go back to her. I had to see her. So I did. Some redemption was found. An apology and an uncomfortable couch.

I couldn't stay away. I should have .. Maybe. I'm not quite sure, still. The more I saw her, the more alive I felt. I pursed her. I wanted her, the impossible. She was so fascinating. So weak, yet undeniably strong. So fake, but so real it shook my own core. She was the impossible. And so I wished her. But not as a trophy. The days passed, she went from a crush, to more. Every time I had her .. I wanted more. I craved her taste. It was maddening. I welcomed it. To feel. To be alive. To understand the pain of loss, the enjoyment of company. My son became important, suddenly. Even more then her. She helped me understand what a gift he was. By making me feel, my love for him hit me like a sack of what-the-fuck.

It was unfortunate, then .. I came to a point of understanding. Sanity. I attained it, then she threatened it, as quickly as she had given it. I decided to take what I had and move on. I couldn't take it. When I felt another on my Amelia .. Red was a whore, and i accepted this, though she was as much a friend as i'd come to know. But .. Fallon. He had enjoyed my Amelia. Something reserved for me. My temple. I was crushed. I knew it had to end. And so it did.


Fuck the threat. Some half ass brat to a minor heir trying to come at me -- wishing to prove himself amidst the underworld. I gutted the mother fucker, I enjoyed it to. Then I moved on to his bodyguards. I even thought of killing Tristan, the assassin who'd come to my apartment when Amelia and I were .. Being us. Whatever we were. Life was so full of death. I would reign it, when need be. To protect what was mine. I've killed many men, few woman. Some with a knife, others by hand, must through a scope at a few hundred yards out. It didn't matter. I could grow so cold, so quick. It was a mask I could wear .. Sebastian .. Mr. Friday Night .. Assassin; Mr. Whisper. What I needed to be, I could. I had the constitution for anything. Nothing was beyond me. But I had no direction. Now, I did. I would take that which threatened what was mine .. To protect .. To protect Kuriel .. To protect me. To protect Amelia .. She haunted me. I needed her.

She had given me so much. This love. Feeling. She would be mine. I decided this, and like everything else in life, i set my mind and got her. I won her. But she wasn't a trophy. She wasn't a prize. She was so much more. She was now mine and I hers. I watched her sleep. I loved her, so much. I wanted to make her happy. Unfortunately I needed to be happy, as well.

I knew then .. No matter how this ended. Whether her remaining loyal, or faltering, I would always Cherish this woman, made of two. I would be at her side. I would always protect her. Give her money if need, kill those who threatened her -- hold her in times of sorrow and fuck her in consumption of lust. I could only hope to give her something good .. Not pure, for I wasn't able to do such. But something good .. My love would hopefully suffice, if it did not, I would always be at her side, in some fashion or another. I kissed her forehead, brushing another strand of hair away, before drawing her close to me and holding strong.

1:11am: The good, bad and 'bastian