With destruction comes creation.
With death comes life.
And with the birth of Doom came Love.
"Stop helping every pitiful person you come across to find love, and focus on yourself."
"That's my only reason for existing, idiot."
"I yearn to belong to something, to be contained in an all-embracing mind that sees me as a single thing. I yearn to be held in the great hands of your heart—"
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Love had no clue what to tell her twin except to do what he liked, and she couldn't force him to do things one way or another. He made some kind of look on his face that she thought she had seen enough times to understand what it meant. Or at least she thought so until he made it at her.
The slight curl to his lips. Furrowed brows. A flash of discontentment before overall getting swallowed up by his aversion.
She had seen it when they first learned how to cook, and everything he had tried to make crumbled in his hands or exploded in a near cartoonish manner. She saw it when he saw mortal mortals not coddle their crying child and were instead too busy with their own devices to help.
He was... Dissatisfied. Disappointed.
But why, in particular, confused her more than anything else.
He always called himself a free spirit, so why, when she was saying it was fine for him to stretch his wings and do as he pleased, was he unhappy with her response? Did he expect her to fight and make him stay? But why?
Honestly... sometimes she wished that she could listen to his mind like she could everyone else's just so she didn't have to wonder so much. No matter the reason, it was a problem for tomorrow. So she pushed his face of dissatisfaction out of her mind for now, waved a hand at herself, changed into her pajamas, entered her room, and went to bed, using a spell to force herself to sleep through the night.
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The morning after was just as strange. Love walked out of her room, having an appointment with one of her clients who needed help learning what his expensive university girlfriend, who was studying music, would like for a date, only to see her twin sitting on the couch with a book in hand and a plate of pancakes in front of him.
"You've taken to eating?" She asked him before walking over to him with her slippers on. "What's with the sudden interest in playing human?"
"It's for you." Doom told her without looking up from his book. "In all the time I've known you, you've never started your day unless you've had breakfast. So I got you pancakes from that one restaurant you always seem so fond of."
