It is quiet.
For once you are not in some infernal bathroom, staring into a candle's flame or being bathed in neon. There is darkness around you.
The kind that would make others turn on a light out of fear or an uncomfortable feeling.
What was it with others and darkness? How was it so frightening to them and not you?
Perhaps it was because of him.
A small ray of light peeks through the crack of the bedroom door, giving you just enough illumination to not knock your shin on a piece of furniture. Though you wouldn't anyway.
It had only been a few months, but you knew this room very well. If asked, you could relay even the most minute of details to another. Why? Because you hated this room.
And people tended to remember things they hated in far more clarity.
Your hand draws open a drawer, ever so quietly. Not that anyone was about, but it seemed that any sort of noise would shatter the illusion and cause the world to come crashing through.
Hands slip beneath the cloths, searching. You draw it out. Such a small thing, so smooth. Pulling it open on bated breathe, you pour its contents out into your waiting palm. There it lies.
He had given it to you. A token? A promise? No words had been said upon its presentation. Just him holding it in front of your face with a grin in place.
For a long time you wore it with pride and adoration. Feeling the power that came with it. Not just over others or yourself, but him as well.
Then why had you taken it off? Why had you run? What made you think you could have something different?
A door opens and you jerk back into the darkness like it is some sort of cloak you could wear for protection. The prince has returned, he even calls out to you.
Putting everything back in place, you rush out to meet him with a smile in place. Arms embracing. Little does he know of what you did not return to the drawer.
Of the token that you found yourself unable to ever get rid of. Funny how something like a simple piece of leather could hold so much sway over another. Its not like it was a chain or collar.
But it was from him. The one who you could never stop thinking of. A tainted memory that makes you question the road you are on every night.