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kh_drabble2007-04-30 01:05 am
dilly-spandle.livejournal.com) wrote in kh_drabble2007-04-30 01:05 am
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Challenge: [103] Desire
Title: Fickle
Word Count: 214
Notes: Um, last minute much? >.o Spoilers for CoM, sort of.
Title: Fickle
Word Count: 214
Notes: Um, last minute much? >.o Spoilers for CoM, sort of.
Sometimes Larxene wants to scream.
She knows what they’re after, and she knows why. She can’t argue with the logic, nor can she deny that she would take her fair share if they achieved their goals. They are all Nobodies, and they strive together to regain what they’ve lost.
A heart isn’t really what she wants, though. That’s more of a hunger. What she wants, what she really, truly desires is not to need one at all. Because she remembers what it was like to have a heart. She remembers what she was like, and it’s absolutely sickening to think that she could be that kitten-weak creature all over again, timid and meek and ashamed of her own curiosities. She doesn’t want to give up the freedom that she’s found in being unable to care what other people think and feel; she has explored in depth the pleasures and pains of mind and flesh, mapped out the sweetest routes to cruelty, learned how to harm in the most effective and titillating ways. She has become so much more than she was, and to think that she might have to give it all up because of her own fickle craving for the feelings that once stifled her is the unkindest irony she can think of.
She knows what they’re after, and she knows why. She can’t argue with the logic, nor can she deny that she would take her fair share if they achieved their goals. They are all Nobodies, and they strive together to regain what they’ve lost.
A heart isn’t really what she wants, though. That’s more of a hunger. What she wants, what she really, truly desires is not to need one at all. Because she remembers what it was like to have a heart. She remembers what she was like, and it’s absolutely sickening to think that she could be that kitten-weak creature all over again, timid and meek and ashamed of her own curiosities. She doesn’t want to give up the freedom that she’s found in being unable to care what other people think and feel; she has explored in depth the pleasures and pains of mind and flesh, mapped out the sweetest routes to cruelty, learned how to harm in the most effective and titillating ways. She has become so much more than she was, and to think that she might have to give it all up because of her own fickle craving for the feelings that once stifled her is the unkindest irony she can think of.
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