#fooshxd

He calls you his pet, and it sounds like friend. You think he doesn’t really understand what friendship means, but that’s okay. You can show him.

He calls himself a god. You’re not stupid, you know it’s true. You know a little about godhood yourself, after all, but you know that he is a truegod. Far more powerful than anyone else you’ve met. It can be a little scary, but his ire is rarely directed at you, and he never stays angry for long. He’s not that scary, you don’t think.

He calls himself your friend, and you tease him for it. He doesn’t get angry, just a little bashful, and you can tell this is a new experience for him. You’re happy to be by his side, even if he can be terrifying when he feels like it.

He talks of books, dropped a millennium ago, only one of which has been found. He drops a hint as to where the other might be. It seems like he favours you. You can use this, you think.

He makes you immortal, and it’s a rush in your veins that you haven’t felt in years. It’s like something you didn’t even realise was out of place has shifted back into its rightful position. It feels right.

You climb to the top of your tower, and gaze over what you’ve built for him. It looks beautiful in the sunset. He’s given you a gift, and you let yourself fall to the ground, knowing his gift will keep you safe. It does.

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He calls you his pet, and it feels like a leash around your neck. It feels like a noose, tightening by the day. You don’t try to escape. Being owned is better than being alone.

He calls himself a god. He laughs and it chills you to the bone. He’s lying, he has to be, because if he’s truly a god, how could you ever hope to be free? You beg to be let out, you cry for help, but he just laughs and laughs and laughs.

He calls himself your friend, and it has to be true because if you don’t have him you don’t have anything. You smile and agree, and he pats your head, and it feels awful even as you lean into the touch.

He talks of a book. You can barely understand him, head still pounding and body aching all over. He’s excited, animatedly explaining to you what it does. You don’t care. You just want out.

He says he’ll make you immortal, and you can’t think of anything you want less. You can’t even climb tall buildings without looking longingly over the edge, and you know all too well what he has in store for you will be nothing but cruelty. You just want to be left alone.