Harbinger

The Talk

As he held your left hand, he began to sing.

"I took my troubles down to Madame Ruth, You know that gypsy with the gold-capped tooth, She's got a pad down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine, Selling little bottles of..." His voice rang out clearly, much better than you expected. You knew the next lyric, so you joined right in.

"Love potion number nine!" You sang together as he stroked your fingers, playing with your ring.

"I told her that I was a flop with chicks," He continued singing

"Which you're definitely not." You smiled as you sipped your drink.

"I've been this way since 1956,"

"You probably are that old." You teased.

"She looked at my palm and she made a magic sign"

You flipped him off as you held your drink with that hand as well. It had turned out deliciously.

"She said 'What you need is love potion number nine'." He chuckled and looked into your eyes. "I don't need a silly potion."

"Well good thing it's just horchata. You sing so well." You smiled.

"Don't tell anyone. I don't ever sing." He smelled the drink.

"Just drink it, you big baby." You were already halfway done with your own drink. "Then we can order something up here."

"Can I just fuck you instead?"

"Can't you just drink it?"

"Can't you just ride my dick and feed it to me?"

"Damn, Chrollo, why are you so weird this morning?" You swigged down the rest of your drink and stood up. Weird didn't mean you weren't going to do it.

He shrugged.

"Do you want to talk about how you said you felt last night?"

He frowned.

"Please?"

You sat on his lap and played with his dick, light;y touching and stroking it. Chrollo sighed and took a sip of the drink hesitant. His eyes widened and he looked down at the drink.

"It's... good. Pretty good. Hmm." He looked away from you and at his cup as if it was going to save him. But you remained quiet. "Fine."

He scoffed and put his drink down after one more swig.

"Keep touching me though. I want to fuck after."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes but opened your ears.

"My friends are my life." He rubbed your arms as he pulled the blanket closer to his chest. "So I feel... dead. Or... Perhaps nearly dead. Undead even. I simply do not know my place in the world. I always figured that I would die before I had to face these feelings. These fucking feelings!"

He gripped your thighs so tightly that you thought they might bruise.

"Feelings of what?" You pressed.

"Emptiness. Nothingness. Loneliness!" His eyes began to water. "There's not enough drugs in the world to make it stop, either. My friends are dying around me. They are dying for me. For what I built. And the least I could do is to be there with them. And yet, here I am."

"Here you are." You stopped touching him and leaned forward, embracing him. "And here I am. As lonely as you."

"I have to have you. I have no one but you. You have no one but me. Promise to be mine." He began to cry, silently, on your shoulder.

"I already took the diamond, didn't I?"