For the Best

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He was angry. He felt deceived. Infuriated that Jack had dared to lead the Guardians right to him just when he'd thought maybe he could begin tolerating him. Thought that maybe they could be, at the very least, frenemies. In the end, it was all just a trick.

Yes, just a silly game to him. Just a game to Jack. That's what all of this was. That's all anything ever was to him.

And he was angry. He was yelling at Jack, not quite sure what he was saying, but knew he was demanding answers. Asking why.

But then Jack was kissing him. And that brought up a whole new plethora of unanswered questions.

Yet, although he knew it was just a silly game--a stupid joke--Pitch found himself unable to pull away. And it made his heart bleed at the revelation.

He loved Jack. There was no denying it now, but this wasn't serious to him. Pitch was just a plaything to him, and no matter how much he would love him, Jack would never love him in return.

It seemed like years before Jack finally pulled away, and Pitch found himself wanting the chilled lips to return, despite the fact that it was, in all ways possible, a very sloppy--clearly virgin--peck on the lips. He kept his eyes low, wanting not to meet the intense blue-eyed, quizzical stare that was giving him goosebumps. It was painfully silent, and Pitch couldn't help but grimace as a thousand thoughts raced through his mind faster than he could understand any of them.

"Pitch?" Jack's almost whisper broke the silence and a panic built up inside of him. It took all of his willpower not to scream as his chest felt heavy and his mind threatened to overwhelm him. Pitch couldn't speak. He was terrified of what would happen if he did, so he just kept his gaze averted from the boy still laced in his grasp.

"Pitch?" Jack tried again with the same softness, but the Nightmare King only dropped him nonchalantly, causing Jack to stumble back a bit. Pitch could still feel those cold eyes fixated on him, waiting for an answer, but Pitch could not give him one. He didn't quite understand the question.

What was Jack playing at? Why had he betrayed him? They weren't entirely on the same side to begin with, but he'd thought Jack had trusted him. He was the one who broke his defenses. He was the one who always came bounding back to him like a mutt back to it's master. And, in the end, he was the one who had led the Guardians here, the one who will, once again, be his undoing.

But he was also the one who had kissed him.

"I-I'm sorry for not leaving without saying goodbye,"

"Don't." Pitch cut him off before he could continue.

"But I don't want you to misunderstand, I mean I just--"

"I said enough!" His hands were clenched into fists, an uncertainty strong enough to make him nauseous settling in his stomach as he snapped at the boy. He looked Jack in the eyes and saw confusion, and that only did more to fuel Pitch's rage.

"Leave." He growled but Jack only stared at him in shock. "I said leave!" He shouted suddenly, and Jack bolted, the wall behind him dissolving into shadow and opening up. Jack tripped over himself, the fear that Pitch had woven within him leaving him blind until he fumbled into the other Guardians. The four stood ready, almost seeming shocked to see Jack, but Pitch ignored it. The frost sprite stared up at him with a hurt expression and, amongst the anger and resentment inside him, a slight twinge of sorrow panged almost nonexistently.

Pitch stepped forward--two steps dangerously slow--the shadows growing upon the walls as he did. The chamber was submerged in a glowing darkness; It neither obscured nor allowed one to see. It was something in the middle of fear and uneasy comfort but, Pitch knew, anyone could probably sense the despair mixed in with the anger that threatened to swallow him. A dangerous anger; the quiet kind of frustration and confusion. The other's were ready to kill him, ready to end his miserable existence, and he couldn't care otherwise.

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