Summery: Artemis contemplates on his one sided love of Domovoi and death.
Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. But I will. I'm sure I can bribe EC into giving the Irish hotty to me. I'd take real good care of him.
Pairing: One sided Artemis/Butler.
Warning: SLASH. Angst. Character death. OOCness.
Authoress' Note: Writing this while listening to a particularly haunting song by some boys choir. And also, whatever I say about the gun may or may not be true or accurate. Because remember. I can't sit here and look at a gun. All I have is a picture of it.
Someone does die in this. And you're all bright enough to know who. So if you don't want to read about it. Then don't. It's really that simple.
It's strangely beautiful, the way the moonlight hits the deep silver in the barrel. Making the pistol look as though it's glowing.
I admire it's beauty as I sit alone in my dark room. Perched neatly on my bed. My door isn't locked and neither is the one leading to Butler's adjoining bedroom.
But it's late and my guard has long retired to his room to sleep.
I turn my gaze back to the gun in my slim hands. Turning it around in my long fingers.
It's smooth and cold against my palms and I enjoy the feeling.
I smile. Sliding a few digits along the top of the gun. It's heavy in my hands and I wonder how it feels to Butler. But my beloved guard is a lot stronger than I.
As if by instinct, I turn my head to stare at the closed door to Domovoi's room. A frown turns my lips downward as I think about him. It really is his fault that I'm in this situation. However selfish that may sound.
But it is.
You see. I confessed my love to him. It was 5 hours, 57 minutes and 13 seconds ago that I did it. I confessed my ever lasting love to him and he turned me down.
Turned me down.
And not only that. But while he quite harshly told me that he would never feel the same way. He crushed me. Tore my heart out and stood on it. Destroyed my very soul with those words. He's quite the multi-tasker. My guard.
So now I sit. Alone in the darkness of my large bedroom. Butler's Sig Sauer I had taken from his room while he slept, in my hands.
I am quite proud of myself for taking it without waking my darling protector. He is a very light sleeper you know. Waking at the smallest sound. But I'm light on my feet and when I walk bare foot on the plush carpet of the manor. I can be totally silent if I choose too be.
So I took the gun. And I must admit I stayed for a little while and watched him sleep.
He's beautiful when he sleeps. His chiseled, hard features are relaxed. His breathing soft and even. My guard doesn't wear clothes to bed either. I know this because the sheet had been kicked down. Revealing the hard, toned muscles of his chest and stomach.
Oh how I'd love to touch those muscles. Run my fingers over them. Memorizing every crease. Every valley. Every inch of skin of that body. But alas I cannot. Which brings me back to the task at hand.
This gun really is beautiful. It's smooth, cool surfaces feel wonderful to my warm hands. It's a strange beauty though. This is a gun after all. It brings death and that isn't beautiful. But the object itself. This deadly weapon. It's got a beauty that only people who have had their very soul ripped from their bodies, could understand.
Because it brings death. And that, right now, is beautiful.
"Beautiful." I say softly, turning it around in my hands so it's facing me. "You're beautiful. Beautiful like Butler."
As I raise my arms, I think wryly that the gun and it's owner aren't really that different. Both are dangerous. Both bring death. Both are beautiful.
And both will be the cause of my end.
I point the pistol at my forehead. The index finger of my right hand moving to curl around the trigger. There is no silencer. Not that I would have been able to find one. But I want Butler to hear it. I want him to know how much pain he caused me this afternoon.
As I sit here, gun pressing into the side of my temple. I think of how a few words can bring a person such torment. How a few sentences can extinguish the light that once was their soul. Stamp it out like a cigarette butt.
But that just shows how fragile the human mind is. One word. Just one word. Breaks us.
"Do you love me?"
Butler said that word to me this afternoon. And now I'm sitting here. Gun to my head. It's almost funny. Almost.
I let my blue eyes drift over to the closed door to my right. My beloved bodyguards room. The man who both stole my heart. And crushed it.
He's protected me from harm since birth. But he can't save me now. And it's ironic that he'd my harms cause.
But I love him. And I think I always will.
I pull the trigger.
Ending Note: Yes I made him commit suicide. Sorry... Here are some Sorry Cookies. Take as much as you like. But that aside... was it alright?
Well review and tell me nice things. D They don't have that button so you can mouth off.
I told you at the beginning their was a character death. So if you are against it. You should have already left. Because flames do nothing but waste my review pages.