#the alien

—

if you were asked how the world would look like in a couple of years, you never would've guessed this.

a calloused claw strokes through your hair, fondling with the ribbons tied into it, the other on your clothed thigh that straddles your owner's. you look away, lest you meet his gaze and feel the sting of being stripped of your very identity. soothing whispers hum in your ear like a mockery.

truth is: humanity's gone to shit. earth, from what you've heard, is but a forgotten memory, humans evacuated against their will — not like they had any say in the first place.

"look so lovely like this, sweet thing." he chuckles, accent rolling off of his alien tongue. you don't look at him, you can't look at him. a tender kiss is pressed to the junction where your shoulder and neck meet. "all for me, right?"

he speaks like you have a choice in being his pretty possession, all dolled up and adorned in luxuries made of materials humans didn't even know existed. it's taken considerable time for him to 'tame' the fire in you that yearns so desperately for the life you once led.

you suppose you should be grateful you've fallen into the hands of doting alien royalty; you were initally oblivious to the value humans hold to creatures like this, bidded at such an alarmingly high price that your throat was parched by the time he took you home.

even more so, your captor is very attentive, going as far to learn english (they are highly intelligent, how else did they find your planet galaxies away from theirs?) and study everything about humans like you. and yet, in spite of everything, he fails to notice the fact that taking you as a pet is just as messed up. either that, or he just doesn't care about such trivial matters.

everything humans have achieved pale in comparsion to the bare minimum of these monsters, so much that they regard your kind as dumb or inferior, like wide-eyed puppies wandering without a leash.

his thigh bounces underneath you, bringing your attention to his hand that cradles a purple, ripe fruit, one you recognise for its foreign sweetness. you take it into your lips, hearing his soft praise as he nudges more, only for his thumb to swipe the juice that dribbles down your chin and dab it on his forked tongue.

"good job," you seethe at the way he says it with deliberate slowness. the necklace on your neck feels like a dog's collar — and right now, how are you any different from one? "aren't you a good human?"

this isn't love, that as much you know. you shouldn't be suffocating, drowning.

your boyfriend, on the other hand, was gentle it squeezes your heart. how he smiled, even when brought to his demise, because —

"i think," he suddenly speaks, prompting you to look up at him. his voice is hushed, a caress to your ears, as if it's a secret so precious only you are allowed to hear. "that if i were to die, i'd want it to be for you. only for you."

you rub your eyes; it is way too late for this. but even now, you can't help the smile on your lips. "darling, it's past midnight. why are we talking about death?" still, you lean into him, betraying the fondness that still continues to grow for him more nad more. "appreciate the gesture, though. very romantic."

"i'm serious, babe." he sing-songs, a mocking frown adorning his cheeky expression, peering down at you. only he would bring up such topics, and only he would tease you relentlessly after. and yet, his sincerity is all too real. "what better way to go out than for the love of my life?"

he huffs, "i cannot live without you."

the smile is wiped off of your face. you breathe, in and out, before muttering: "and what makes you think i can?" the coldness of the room makes you shiver, makes you aware of how solemn the conversation has turned out.

but it's true.

you love him.. it scares you, that one day his reckless ass will be gone and you wouldn't know what to do without him and —

"hey," you blink up at his voice. his brows are cinched together, concern and guilt in his eyes. somehow, he's memorised every tell, and he can see right through as he says. "m'not going anywhere, okay?"

your heart softens and you shrink into yourself, choosing to lean into him. "o-okay. you promise?" and once again, he's managed to coax you out of your own mind, out of the fears that consume you. the bastard.

"cross my heart hope to die." he smirks — ducks his head, giving you the illusion that he's going to kiss you, only stopping inches away from your lips. his are right there when you open your eyes, ripe for the taking.

"now, won't you warm me up after such gruesome talk?" ah. the undertone of desire is not lost on you, especially since he's managed to turn things around in his favour.

selfish, as always; you think, happily obliging, floating on cloud nine as you do so.

alas, all good things come to an end. but he still did get what he wanted.

even if the cruel alien prince had done the deed, indifferent to the life that stood in his way between you and him, indifferent to your cries of anguish, for it is confusing as to why you'd choose a weakling over someone with power as vast as his.

but, you'd always cherish what you had,

what you lost.

                                      ♡

the alien's fast asleep when you slip out of his grasp.

it was easy, almost too easy. you found the drug he's spiked you with multiple times to keep you docile, and he was the none the wiser as he obliviously drank out of the spiked cup. you shake the thought away; you can't afford distractions, even the cold that bites at your skin. a warning; to go back to his arms.

for such a smart creature, he seems to have failed in keeping you shackled to him. you have, after all, been planning this for months now. staying sweet for him (like you have a choice) with no reason to suspect you still harbor an inkling of hatred for his kind, for him.

how foolish and utterly arrogant.

you'd rather die than have to listen to his sweetened words trail up from your neck to your ear one more time.

realising you're barefoot just outside, surrounded by exotic plants and their twisted vines weaved into the soil, you pick up the pace albeit a little more carefully.

it's hard, when you're surrounded by supernatural creatures, devoted to their ruler and what he preaches. humans like you hold no power in this twisted, 'idyllic' world. even when you're cared for, or even praised so lovingly, you'll always know what you are to him:

a pet.

it takes a long while before you see the gates, so inviting and vacant all the same. perfect, too perfect. this can't be this easy.

but maybe it is.

perhaps some justice has neem granted upon you, for all that you've endured, all the prices you've paid, your patience. all of it, it hasn't gone in vain.

a cruel, gravelly laugh freezes you in your tracks.

"ah, and where are you headed off too, sweet human?"

your blood runs icy cold. no, no, not now, not like this.

but it's all too true. emerging from the sidelines, surrounded by digilient alien servants, he's smiling, with the careful precision of someone who knew this would happen.

someone who anticipated this? no, but you were careful. you watched him drink the drugged glass.

tears blur his approaching vision, "h-how — how did you do —" your perfect, pliant façade cracks, revealing the desperation you've hidden behind tense smiles and stiffened touches. he licks his upper fangs, delighted; it's all too cute, thinking you were smarter than him when you are anything but.

"how amusing. did you really think such an elixir, designed for humans, would work on me?" it's terrifying, how he's calm, still loving, still so adoring as his claw reaches up to graze your cheek sharply. "i see you haven't changed one bit. poor human, you even ruined your sleepwear."

"why?" sobs wrack your body; you still find the energy to entertain this sick game in defiance, no matter how futile it turns out to be. "why do you insist on torturing me? why can't you let me go?"

he frowns. it's odd for an apathetic, cruel being to showcase such worry towards you, but suppose there's still an inkling of affection in his dark heart,

just not selfless enough to let you flee.

"it wouldn't be so torturtous if you stopped fighting me." he sighs, "i know it is frustrating, but crying will not make earth come back." the grounding reality of his logic sends you spiralling further into hysterics, to which he holds you closer.

you still long for your life, for your deceased lover.

stranded somewhere in space, millions of light years away from what remains of your home —

his claw fists into your hair, as he rasps, "so come back to me, sweet human. you will soon forget all about that miserable place."

— you choose to nod.