A/N: Got this in my head when I heard the
new Lady Gaga song, and I couldn't get it out. So. That's that. And... maybe this is my attempt to get back in the game? Aagghh ignore my fail D:
There was something about him that drew her in, like a moth to flame. A dangerousness, an aura of power that resonated from every inch of him, commanding attention and respect, turning heads every time he walked into a room.
She was young, naïve. Stupid. Resistance was futile.
Against her better judgment, what started with occasional furtive, stolen glances soon evolved into quick fucks against the bathroom wall in the back of the pool hall and eventually graduated to nights spent at his apartment. But never anything more.
With every rough, uncaring thrust that she met, every bite mark on her pale skin that she allowed, he betrayed her. The poison that coursed through his veins infected her, feeding on her like the worst parasite imaginable, possessing her, overtaking her completely. They brought each other down, tore each other apart. Yet in those moments, she simultaneously absorbed something else from him. That danger. That power that she craved. She wanted to die, but she never felt more alive.
It wasn’t love. But it was something. It was enough to keep her coming back for more, time and time again.
And so the cycle persisted. Until something changed.
A new variable entered into the equation.
When she met his mismatched eyes across the pool table that night, she knew he was different. There was something genuine behind them, something that didn’t quite match the company he kept. And when his fingers accidentally brushed hers, they transferred a warmth that she hadn’t felt in a long time. In that instant, she felt alive in a way she never had before.
This was a man she could fall in love with, if she were capable of such a thing. Maybe she never would be. But he filled a void she hadn’t been fully aware she’d had. And that was enough.
A new phase of the cycle began.
He betrayed his best friend’s trust to be with her. She betrayed her own misplaced sense of loyalty. It was just twisted enough to satisfy whatever it was that she had become.
It was only a matter of time. She’d bring him down too.
In the end, she took matters into her own hands, made her own choices. She tore her ticket to distant, illusory happiness into pieces and let them scatter in the wind. She defiantly stared down the barrel of a gun and refused to give in, breaking this sick cycle once and for all.
In the end, she betrayed them both.
It was only fitting.