RoyalChaos is love.
RoyalChaos is life.
~ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ~
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He was undeniably beautiful.
Utterly breathtaking, unquestionably intoxicating.
His figure divine, his personality remarkably admirable.
His voice innocent, his smile unbelievably exquisite.
His eyes sweet, his visages infinitely flawless.
One person had particularly adored the healthy bloom in the YouTuber's cheeks that gave him an aura of innocence; the person actually quite craved it. Sure, this person was only a single human among thousands of others that were bound to think the same, only- this person was his best friend.
Even though the person lusted after him for the longest period of time, he talked to his future love on a regular basis, even played with him almost every day in recording sessions with other people. However, even when the person and him were in a call including two or three others, it'd be like only him and the other were left alone, to be secluded together on the planet... To him and his deafening tuning out skills, at least. He'd blank out the insignificant people due to their yelling that was always so aggravating and unnecessarily loud for his tastes, just to be allowed to listen to the perfectly angelic vocal chords vibrate and form beautiful words to echo within his mind.
As it was expressed before, he was extremely fond of those lips creating such an admirable Canadian dialect to be breathed through the other's microphone; he would do anything to hear it as much as he could.
He often clawed at his arm as he thought wondrously about his love while he talked, sometimes so harshly that the actions would break his skin. Occasionally did the red liquid he was used to gazing upon murk out from his excessive scratches, though, instead of cleaning it up and appearing a sane person, he would welcome the harm, and dig his nails into his arm even further absentmindedly. The area where he'd done this the most feverishly was always red, for he continually did this over and over again, with some brushings of discoloured skin along the forearm that was subjected to the feats of his heavy desires.
But he didn't care what he did to himself, no matter how much harm he brought himself because of his actions, no, not one bit.
The only thing that mattered to him, was him.
The clawing, the gradual degradation of cutting, the numerous lengthy periods of fantasizing about the deaths of the people who were obstacles in his way of his lovely man-- these actions were all entirely absentminded, in the beginning.
In the beginning-- the things he did were only meant to harm himself.
Empty, mental threats to the people who prevented him from stealing his love, and shallow harm to himself.
That's how it was meant to be, he'd concluded aloud as he stared at a picture of him on a random search engine that glown through his laptop's bright screen. As his eyes dragged his vision along the person's russet brown curls that swirled on his head shortly, he never thought he would harm a perfect hair on his love's head, yet...
He started getting antsy.
His clawing started to evolve into shoving a knife into his desk repetitively, his cutting fell into a deeper slice of a coping strategy. Little did he know that his descent into deep desire and flatout madness swallowed him whole, with no help from his own doing.
One night, he dipped highly into his obsession and did something he would never regret-- or, at least he thought he wouldn't.
"H-hey, Ze." His shaky voice brushed against the payphone's speaker, the frigid temperature outside misting over his breath; cold puffs of carbon dioxide becoming visible in his attempts to breathe. Currently he stood shaking on the side of the road and was operating a commune telephone to call his friend, with a somewhat ragged motel painting the 'scape behind him while a rundown road laid in front of him, ahead of the sidewalk he stood twitching on. What was he doing on the bad-end of town, you're asking?
He could ride his bike with no handlebars here.
"Chilled?" The voice he absolutely loved hearing sounded in the phone suddenly, causing the called male to jump with an uncontrollable excitement; his fingers shaking exponentially as they curled around the leashed phone with an exceedingly high anticipation.
"Hey!" He nearly shouted into the speaker. The yell caused the Canadian YouTuber held up on the line to murmur a soft, 'ouch,' and that single word of the expression of pain erupted another wave of twisted happiness to swallow the male who was not, all that right in the head; his brown eyes wide as the full moon that hung with lackluster in the sky while words filled his mind.
"H-hey... What phone are you calling from, Anthony?" The angelic voice prodded through the phone's assistance with curiosity; Anthony nearly choking with the feeling that engulfed him. It was like he, had done something illegal; the touches to anything around him caused a static shock to rack his entire body, and his mind felt like it had a lack of blood flowing to it. A terrifying grin creeping over his lips to due what he was planning for that night, Anthony chuckled slowly to himself, which subsequently made the other male on the outdated phone to hum softly with confusion.
"I'm using a payphone, right now." Chilled whispered against the speaker of the phone with a wispy voice; his answer merely sounding like a bunch of intended static to the Canadian receiving the call. There was, something off right now... Ze could feel it.
"...Why not use your own phone?" He asked suspiciously, contemplating possible scenarios that this situation would classify as in his mind, as he slightly felt out of place upon hearing a heavy breathing on the other end of the phone call. "Chilled?"
"It died." The succinct reply rang through the old technological device.
"Well, where are you, that you can't charge it?"
"I fell asleep on the bus, and they just kicked me off a while ago. I don't have my car, and I just used the last of money for this call."
"...Are you saying that you need a ride? You want me to come pick you up?"
The offer caused Anthony to experience a pure sense of concentrated evil. It unearthed itself in his mind and travelled through his body, causing him to slowly grip the phone in his hands with a suffocating choke of his fingers as he opened his mouth slowly; his canine teeth being bared some as if he were waiting for this moment to occur.
"That would be great." His words were said through grit teeth, a crazed smirk capping his hauntingly shaking exterior.
"Um... Okay... Where are you?"
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Part one of two. c:
