I'm so inclined,
To make you mine,
The sun had long since set, and shadows had fallen over the small, British town. It was just past midnight, and the only source of light at this point came from the flickering glow of the candle sitting in Arthur Kirkland's house.
He stared into the flames flickering light, a light just bright enough to see the pain and heart break in his green eyes, almost as if he were entranced by its glow, though his thoughts lingered not on the flames, but on a girl. ___, his best friend, was precisly where they lingered.
He knew he was a fool in love, your sweet smile always succeeded in turning the Brit's cheeks red, and you simple touch made his heart skip a beat. You were the perfect woman for him, though you didn't seem to be aware of that fact, seeing as you'd chosen the wrong man. Just thinking about your current lover made the Brit want to shatter something.
Oliver Kirkland, his insane 2p! with blue eyes and a cupcake fetish, was the man you'd decided to give your heart to.
Oh, how Arthur hated that.
What the bloody hell did Oliver have that he didn't? Arthur was the personification of current England, he had riches, land. Hell, he could give ___ the bloody moon, he had that much power.
Then there was Oliver, the personification of the darker times in England. Because those times had long since passed, Oliver had little to no power, and probably couldn't even get you an engagment ring, let alone all the things Arthur could get you with a snap of his fingers.
And still you'd chosen Oliver.
It was a decision he never understood, a decision he loathed more than anything else. But Arthur had never been one for giving up, and he wasn't about to start now. If he had the date right, then tomorrow was Valentine's Day, a day when love was given and recieved.
Though if you wouldn't give him your love, he'd just have to take it, now wouldn't he?
And the Brit knew just how he was going to do that.
Arthur took a moment more to admire the fire's glow before extinguishing the flame, darkness falling over the Kirkland estate once more, and hiding Arthur's twisted grin.
Oliver was in a shitty mood at the moment, to say the least. He'd been quite content to sleep next to his poppet, ____, when some crash from downstairs just had to wake him up.
While Oliver was normally quite cheerful, he was extremly short tempered this late at night. Who the hell was downstairs, anyway? A burgler?
Oliver gropped around in the dark for a moment before his fingers glided over iron. Smiling, he grabbing the knife, holding it firmly. He was going to teach whoever was down there the definition of pain, and Oliver couldn't help but wonder if the said person's body parts would taste good in his cupcakes. Well, there was only one way to find out.
Silently creeping out of bed, so as not to disturb your peaceful slumber, the 2p! snuck downstairs and into the kitchen where the crash had come from. The faint moon light shinning through the window betrayed the intruder's shadow, but the said intruder was hiding in the dark and Oliver couldn't see who it was.
It was then that the intruder spoke. "You're a real wanker, you know that? Stealing my woman from me, really now, no true gentleman would do something like that." Oliver frowned at the voice; he recognised it, but he couldn't pinpoint who it belonged to.
The voice continued in the same dangerously calm tone as before. "I do hate to do this, you know; I've never seen the appeal in 'taking out the trash', to use Al's terms." The voice sighed in exasperation. "But it seems I have no other choice." The figure stepped into the moon light, and Oliver's eyes went wide when he realised who it was.
Arthur smiled. "Sorry I have to do this. But I won't let you take what's mine." Pain suddenly exploded in Oliver's head, and he fell to the ground, black spots dancing across his fading vision.
The last thing Oliver saw was Arthur's taunting smirk before everything went black.
You weren't completly sure what woke you up that Valentine's morning; it could have been the sunlight shining faintly through the window, though you had a feeling it had to do with the smell that wafted up from the kitchen into your room. You breathed the smell in again. Oliver was baking scones? Oliver, the man obsessed with cupcakes?
Curiosity getting the better of you, you swung your legs over the bed, shivering when your bare feet touched the cold, wooden floor. You crept down the stairs, trying to shake off your exhaustion, though you were wide awake the moment you entered your kitchen.
It looked like a slaughter house, to say the least; dried blood stained the once cheerful walls and the tile floor, random body parts discarded around the kitchen.
What caught your eye, however, was Oliver's head, seperated from the rest of his body, sitting on the kitchen counter.
The sight was too much for your weak stomach, and you ended up vomiting, using all your strength to keep your knees from giving way. You were heart broken, yes, but at the same time incredibly confused; who was insane enough to do something like this?
Your answer came in the form off arms wrapping around your waist. "Hello, love." Your body stiffened at the familiar voice.
Arthur Kirkland rested his head on your shoulder, glancing at Oliver's head with a smirk. "Do you like the present I made you for Valentine's Day, love? I know it's a little last minute, but I don't think it turned out too badly."
Your whole body shook in fear, tears glistening in your eyes. "Why, Arthur? Why would you do such a thing?!"
"For you." The Brit planted a kiss on your neck. "Now that he's gone, we can be together."
Your grief turned into rage at his words. "What the hell are you talking about?! You killed my boyfriend, I don't want to be anywhere near you!" You suddenly gasped when you felt sharp metal pressed against your neck.
"I think you do." He whispered in your ear, his breath making you shiver. "I honestly do. I'd hate for you to end up the same way as Oliver, I really would."
"You're a monster." You whispered, tears streaking down your cheeks.
He chuckled at this. "Aren't we all? Oh, and one more thing, ____." He grabbed your chin and pressed his lips to yours, pulling away swiftly and meeting your shocked eyes with a grin.
"Happy Valentine's Day."
And I float upon a shallow bay,
Lift me up until the ground gives way,
I'm a California castaway,
I don't think you wanna fuck with me,