the heart i know i'm breaking (is my own)

4

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

His body ached. Or maybe his heart. He didn't know anymore. The world looked strangely discoloured, like a painting gone wrong. It always did whenever loneliness came to visit, whenever she wasn't with him.

Except she was, right now.

But not by his side. No, she stood facing him - against him - everything familiar, now foreign and unknown. Although he was standing far away from her, his cat-like eyesight allowed him to trace her face, adorned with the mask of Ladybug. Her bright eyes burned with hurt, and something in him clenched painfully at the sight. Every instinct pushed him towards his Bug, urged him to go protect her, cover for her, but he forced all of them back. His body would have to learn that it would not be fighting side-by-side along hers. It never would, now.

The thought knocked him out of breath. Anxiety flooded in, tightening his chest, speeding his heart. He felt fooled by his own mind. Why did he think he would be able to cross this? Pinpricks burned his eyes. Everything blurred. His team. His city.

His Lady.

He couldn't. He couldn't fight her.

'Cause when I fight you
You still tell me I was brave

His own breaths keep resounding in his ears, shallow and quick. The battle was in full swing, and he was determined to take the brunt of it on himself, sparing the others. Having freshly turned eighteen allowed him to use his Cataclysm multiple times without detransforming, but everything was a blur. Too fast, too much. He was in constant fear that he would accidentally use his power on someone. The air surrounding him felt raw with energy.

And before he could anchor himself in this mayhem, she was in front of him, materializing out of thin air.

"Back off."

There was a lot he had practised to say to her. A lot he had expected to hear. But it seemed two sharp syllables were all it took for his bravado to crumble. Children, he thought, like a madman. That's what we are. That's what we're fighting like. Two children, wrestling for power, on a playing field neither was prepared for, frozen in stances neither would abandon. 

Two children, two souls, both doomed.

And if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake

"Back off, Cat. Clean the mess up while you still can."

He looked at her, and it was jarring to know that he could still read her as easily as ever. Her voice was cold - he would have expected nothing less from the mistress of speeches. But it seemed stretched thin; a mask slipping out of place. Her chest heaved, her forearms shook. He didn't need to see her unmasked to know there would be bags under her eyes, red blotches staining her cheeks. Her eyes were a mirror to his; reflecting the shell of a person who had nowhere to keep their love. Full, both of them were full of all the wrong emotions.

It was easier to affect a similar coolness, knowing that under it, their suffering was the same. "Why don't you call your little party back to retreat instead, Bug? Sounds much easier, really." His hands did not need conscious instruction to keep his baton open and ready. They circled each other, a step in an old routine, now being set into a new one.

They were strangers, but not. Pretending, but not.

Cursing my name

"What is it that you think you'll gain, Ladybug? What dream do you wish to achieve?"

Her eyes flared at his tone. She loathed his mockery, he knew. Especially after she'd explained that dream of hers with so much passion, convinced he'd join her side. Some sick part of him wished he had.

"If I wanted to use the Miraculouses for harm, I would've done it a long time ago." Her voice was low, but not soft. The ruckus of the battle had slowed, an audience soon to form around them. "We can change the world, Kitty." It was the same thing she'd said that night too. "Change it for the better."

"Goddamnit, Bug. The better? Change the world for the better?" His laugh was bitter, and she flinched. But he was so damn tired. Of this nightmare, this madness, this fighting. If they could fight like children, they could hurt like them too. Let her see her broken dream and let him have his broken heart. "You're smart, love. Surely you're smart enough to know there's no bettering anything if you join forces with him."

Wishing I'd stayed

Burning. He was burning. He shook his head in disgust, eyes locked on her. Tasted the venom in his mouth before he let it loose.

"I can't believe -" His breath hitched, "- I can't believe I fell in love with a powermonger. I hate you."

Lying, but not.

The words hit true, the aim brutal. The girl (he still loved) stilled, and then reared back. Pain was a physical thing as she spat right back at him. "I hate you more, Black Cat."

Look at how my tears
ricochet

In that moment, the Black Cat vowed only one thing: he would never let the Moth get his hands on the Miraculouses.

Even if that meant destroying his allies.

Even if that meant destroying Ladybug.

(Two children, two souls, both doomed.)