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"You can only love someone at a distance for so long before something in you has to break. I only did what I thought I had to. The knife was never supposed to be there, but there's no longer anything I can do about it." Rape. Psychologically dark. Alfred's POV.
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I don't get it. I mean, if I love Arthur, does it really matter that he doesn't love me? Everybody says that love is a beautiful thing. That means my love is a beautiful thing, not a disease (which means Matt's wrong; I don't feel sick, anyway. I'm pretty healthy). It's okay to have only one beautiful thing instead of two, right? Better one than none. Since Arthur doesn't really love me.
Or maybe he does. I'm not really sure. He always likes to say things that he doesn't mean, and he likes to hide his feelings away like a squirrel hiding nuts for winter. I wonder what winter he's waiting for. That's one of the things I want to ask him, but I don't think now is very good time to bring it up. I don't think he would listen to me any more than I listen to him. Anyway, my point is, I don't think he loves me. At least, not as much as I love him. It makes me sad sometimes when I think about it, but what can I do? Maybe if I show him how much I love him, he'll change his mind.
So that's what I'm doing right now.
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[ *shivers* Alfred here sure is dang scary. The tags are not up my alley, but holy hell this fic is really written well. ]
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Usuk
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