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Leaving: Part 1"Why are you so mad at me?"
"Why do you think?!"
"You wanted it really, you know you did."
"Top Hat, generally, when somebody says 'I would rather throw myself off a cliff than kiss him' they generally mean it!"
I scowled at her, playing with the ring on my right hand.
"You love him anyway, I mean, I only helped things along~" She said, following the sentence with a giggle.
"'Helped things along'?! You're MARRIED TO HIM! What is wrong with you?!"
"Look, if it weren't for me, you two would have been together, and you know it."
"No, we wouldn't have been!"
"But you would've..." Top Hat looked at the ground sadly. "You would've..."
"For the last time, NO!"
Top Hat suddenly scowled menacingly. "Well, he saved your life, fathered your child. Why not?! It makes perfect sense!"
"It wouldn't have worked. He had no choice, I was his assistant, and we were drunk." I looked down, shame still fresh in my stomach even after so many years.
"... Why the past tense?" She asked, narrowing h
First meeting"I'm going out."
"Ok. Be back before 12, or not at all, depending on if you can find a job."
"Gee, thanks mum, it's not like I'm 22 or anything..."
I sighed, sitting on a bar stool in a moodily-lit casino.
"So, you're looking for a job?" The bartender said, leaning on the counter.
"Yeah. This place hasn't got any free?"
He smirked and cleaned a glass, handling it carefully.
"You'll have to speak to the manager."
"Could you get the manager?"
"He's around here somewhere." The bartender said with a chuckle. "But his interviews are... challenging, to say the least."
"Yeah, especially with the women."
"What makes you say that?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I think you're about to find out."
"Find out what~?" A smooth voice purred from behind me.
I jolted a little, and turned round quickly, eyes narrowed. "Jeez, man, some warning would be nice!"
"I apologise, my dear~ Where are my manners~?"
Looking up, I gasped ever so slightly.
His eyes, I swear, they were bea
Blue Eyes in FlamesWhen the prince sees the flower bloom from the palm of her hand, he orders her arrest.
She is only seven years old.
He takes the flower from her and keeps it, even though he knows he shouldn't. He puts it a vase, or, rather, his servant does that for him. The flower doesn't ever die, even years later.
It's dawn of a December morning, and he's cold. But still, he stands next to his father dutifully and looks at the little girl with blue eyes that are now black from seven nights sleeping on a cold, dungeon floor behind bars. They cut off her dark brown hair during that time. She's tied to the pyre, and there are seven guards around her, holding sharper swords than normal, not that she could get away. There's one man dressed in black holding an unlit torch, with a mask over his face to prevent his death. His father raises his arm, and the torch is lit.
She locks her gaze to his, and he blinks at her. It's like she expects him to prevent it. He couldn't, though, he can't. She scares him, w
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More