They were so close.

In a little candlelit corner, behind burgundy velvet, on one of the host's silk chairs, their bodies laced into one. He loved her perhaps a bit too much—his heart wouldn't calm and his skin seemed to be delicate as porcelain under her hands.

Teasing lips painted another pink petal on his dollish neck. He quilted his fingers deeper in her cherry-like hair and giggled again. 

Her lipstick smudged his own, chocolate and rose. But it wasn't just their lipstick that had melted into one, but their existences as well—his entire being had gracefully smeared into hers.

There were pink roses in the vase by her head, but he could not tell: was this sweet scent really that of them?

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Pink lips met his. A giggle or two. A kiss or three. Fruity cocktails and alcoholic tea. Hands all over his bare, glossy body.

Soon he would sprinkle spoonfuls of rich salts into the bathtub. He would drop colorful bombs into the rosy water. He would spread snowy foam upon his ivory skin.

But none of those things could ever truly purify that violent lust and all those filthy sins. Nothing could clear the thousand kisses that had painted every inch of his body. Not a single thing could make the remnants of bodies he had marked with his own disappear.

Fallen angel—he was a fallen angel, but had he not been the one to choose the dark path with no pretty lanterns or scented candles to light the way?

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And oh, how eerie it all was. 

There shone no dreams in the actor's amber eyes. How would they, when ember was what they had become? 

Yes, they had long ago burned. 

The stars...were mere ashes.  

A floating world awaited, one that gave him all he once ever wanted: hearts and gazes. But a world so perfect...only existed behind curtains. 

That twilight birthed a new life, though. Every night since then, silk midnight opened to an abyss—a graveyard, to be precise. 

Never had he imagined such a time would come, yet there he was: a prince imprisoned, his tears sparkling in a dusty mirror. 

He needed not be so distressed, however, for she was right there—wrapping him in meek arms and running intangible fingers through his hair—pale and invisible, but never gone. 

Like a fiery rose the past blazed in her mind.

Lingering was the pleasant scent of powder. It was still there, but somehow, in her memory it was stronger. Echoing were his giggles as she lovingly painted his features with grace.  Ringing was their laughter. 

Cherry smears from his kisses could never be forgotten, either. And what about their doting banter whenever his affection streaked her masterpiece and disheveled clothes?

Not to mention—oh! 

Cold wind howled. The fire suddenly seemed to disappear in a cloud of smoke. 

Time found itself again; the audience's chatter hummed through heavy silence, and the soft stroke of brush on porcelain seized.

“It's time,” the lovers whispered in unison. 

And the broken one soon stood, the smile on his lips dripping with the prettiest stars. “Do keep your eyes on me, my dear.”

With a final caress to her portrait, he walked into the light. 

In all those eyes the beloved man looked just the same, but his love knew otherwise; she could see revival glowing in his floral clothes and dollish face. After all, he had always been one to welcome pleasant change.

To watch him dance, forever. That was her promise. She would always gaze at him and muse. 

Oh, how beautiful he was...dancing his sorrows away and singing aubades. 

And to this day she dances along with him, an oath to be kept until they become swans gracefully swirling under the pale moon. 

+note: this piece was written in celebration of the (first?) anniversary of Obey Me!; it spanned over numerous days, and if I remember correctly, the day on which I wrote this had an oriental/tradition-related theme, so Asmodeus in this story is an onnagata—an actor in Kabuki theatre.

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And her cursed stars desired she be both; delicate rose, petal pink softly glowing in her cheeks, and proud candle radiating warmth—a soul destined to perish, to disappear into the loving arms of heaven.

He was too late to realise, however; her heart had never been crystal. It had always been frosted glass, a mystery in a dress of fog, misty with emotions unknown to him.

Maybe he did love her, and maybe his heart did wish to intertwine with hers forever; but his feelings never unraveled, and only much later did he realise that the very blood in her veins loved him from time back.

In her fiery gown she was a star that helplessly shot through the horizon, one wishing to burn itself just to fall into Earth's arms.

Not from the beginning did she love him—that was mere attraction; but it took very little, too little, for gentle admiration to turn into mad, ardent love. It was a love so beautiful and quiet—fire; it charred her inside her own body, brimming her chest with heavy ash.

And that wasn't enough still; destiny desired for her to suffer more, to bleed and break until she perished, as though she had never existed. So, fate's soldiers put their merciless hands in the soft hold of love and granted their cruel empress's wish. Destiny could finally smirk at the young lover in victory, relishing how flames ran their fiery tongues against her veins, licking every inch of her fragile being.

His lust, her love and immense guilt, they all pledged loyalty to destruction one day. Sin blinded him and broke her; never once did he hesitate to leave her side so he could choose another's, one as unknown to him as much as to her. And she, devoured by regret, could only quietly burn and let the flames tear at her flesh until she became nothingness itself.

Falling in love with a devil was a curse that had never crossed her mind; she had always been fate's scorned slave—dust waiting for the command of winds, one soul in a vast sea of many; and in an endless honeymoon of heartbreak, who could ever defy destiny?

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Sweet red suddenly burning into bitter crimson, delight and her face now so vivid reality melts into dreams.

In a mist of sweat and defeat, showered with glowing kisses of prismatic light, he gasps in his bed's heat.

That's right; it's a dream. Heaven is no longer here. 

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