The city lights are bright and blinding; the sonds deafening as Merlin stumbles back into his apartment. The dark haired man leans heavily on the door. His fingers loose and weak as keys fall to the hardwood floor, their twin no doubt hanging still on a chain with other keys to expensive homes and cars. Useless things. Unecessary and indulgent. How important it had felt when Merlin slipped the key to his home and his heart into his lover's palm. It would be different from previous times, this time it felt different- more. But of course he was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Always wrong.

The alcohol burns a stripe down his throat as he gulps from the brown glass bottle in his trembling fingers; the haze is heavy on the brain. A block and a wall, a shield or a sword. He can feel the thump of his heart, the sounds of the city below him but the apartment is too quiet. Too quiet- there are no other footsteps in the house, no other lovers. No other hearts or breathing patterns. The brown bottle slips and shatters on the floor. A butterfly is stuck to his window, twenty floors above the ground. Funny. It's already the end of summer. The quiet is too loud, the shrieks of cars deafening in the hushed pulse of an alcohol daze.

Merlin grabs another bottle, sidestepping the broken on the floor. The bottle cold and real in his hands. Real. It's here. He's here. He's not. Their not. Merlin's here. Merlin's real. His fingers quiver as he reaches for the button to his stereo. The loud and incessant beats pound through the speakers. They fill the silence and snuff out the shrieks. Merlin laughs as he feels the shards of glass dig into the tips of his toes. He whirls away in a blur of brown and black when he feels hands curling around his neck. A body dancing with his own. His dark blue eyes roll into the back of his head. His lips quirking up into a smile as he intertwines fingers with his partner's.

"You're not mad anymore?" Merlin asks. His fingers digging into the slender pale shoulders. They shrug as pale feet dance over glass and wood. Dark eyebrows shrug and bright red lips of poison purse in thought. The apartment changes as they dance. Candlelights and the blood on the floor a bright red crimson. As Merlin and his polar dance the blood seems to glow. One would think they are dancing on live hot coals. "Life's too short to be angry, Merlin." She says finally. Her long dark hair in crushed curls between his fingers. Merlin takes another drink and his throat sears as he laughs. He wipes his mouth, bright red and chapped. "You're dead." He points out simply. Morgana shrugs. "Exactly."

She swivels her hips in time with the music. Merlin laughs and allows himself to be pulled into the kitchen. She pours liquor into Merlin's mouth before emptying it and dashing the glass at the wall. "In here the world won't bring us down!" Merlin sings and gulps down the liquor. Morgan clutches his hands to his heart as they sing. Their voices taut and rough from the alcohol. "Our plan is golden. Out there a lonely girl could drown." Morgana whirls Merlin around the room. Her blue dress bright amongst the red of blood and white of tile. "We are godesses, Merlin. Love goddesses. These human men have no power to break our hearts!" Merlin tilts his head back to chug the alcohol. There's so much more to be drunk. So little time.

"Do ya know what we need, Merly?" Morgana takes a swig and leaves red smudges of poison on the lip. He might have replied with a 'what' in return. But its more probable that he just shrugs and drinks some more. "A love potion! All of men's heart will be ours. Can you imagine it, Merlin?" He laughs and clutches her waist to his and nods. He'd love to have their hearts in his hands now. Hearts. Such pretty, fragile little things. So crushable. So easy to deceive. "We will be all that they want. All that they can never have. We'll break their stupid little hearts." Merlin drawls as his fingers tremble to light a cigarette from between his lips. Morgana holds up his lighter. A dark steel engraved with swords, flames and intitals.


Their gaze land on them before meeting once more. "We can make him grovel at your feet. Make him use his key, Merlin. Don't open the door for him anymore. He doesn't own you. Not anymore." Morgana's eyes are as arresting and painfully real as they've ever been. So much so that Merlin cannot resist her. He owes her this much. He's the one who killed her after all. "He doesn't own me." Merlin echoes. The lie is simple and fake on his tongue. But he said it, he can see Morgana's answering smile. He said it. It's real. We're godesses. Morgana mouths as she picks up a pot and sets it on the stove. She smirks at him as she pours in an entire bottle of liquor. "Alcohol. For the base of our love potion. It's the water of the gods afterall." The smoke swirls through the room from between his lips. She rummages in the fridge as Merlin watches. She pulls out everything he had in there. "Chocolate syrup for sweetness." She says opening the bottle and pouring it in. "Leftover chinese food for some spice, strawberries for romance, lemons for bitterness and jealousy-" Morgana laughs, throwing everything into the pot and stirring it with a giant wooden spoon. Merlin laughs, feeling the heaviness leave his chest. He tosses his cigarette into the mix. They watch as the flames lick the pot. "Death for rejection." Morgana smiles at him in approval.

Then they are blurs as they dash around the apartment collecting ingredients for their concoction. Morgan returns with her hands full of pale white bottles. The rainbow colored pills looking like candy as she pours them all into the mix. "Sleeping pills for restlessness, Pain meds for heartbreak and everything else for color!" She giggles. Merlin picks up the shards from the floor and tosses it in. "Glass for pain and…" He looks around and picks up a knife. He holds his pale slender wrist above the pot and cuts it slowly with his knife. "…blood for betrayal." Merlin pulls out a quarter from his pocket and flips it into the air. It lands in the pot. Heads. "Metal for unchangeable destiny." He bites out.

Morgana smiles and she pats his cheek with her palm. She joins hands with Merlin and they stir it together. "Double double, toil and trouble." She cackles and they watch it spit and fizz.

Morgana rests her hand on her hip. Her dark lips pursed in thought. "Get out the blender, Merlin?" She winks. "For consistency."

They pour the potion in; they smile and laugh as they listen to the grinding of the blender's blade. Soon the grinding is quiter and only the chinks of glass in it can be heard above the music. Merlin gets out the champagne glasses and leaves them out on the table. Morgana pours it into each. The love potion is a dark red color. The color of blood. The color of the floor beneath their smile at each other and they raise their glasses to the heavens. "No more fucking keys and stupid destinies." Morgana says. Her eyes dark. Merlin's lips stretch over sharp teeth. "No more." He echoes. This is real. The love potion is real. She tips her head back and begins to drink. She's not real. But he is. Merlin drains the glass and it falls to the ground with him. He was real. He feels the glass dig into his face. Pierce from within. Merlin smiles when he hears the sound of jingling keys. Then the sound of an opening door. Funny. A key to an empty house.

In here we're frozen.