The Ballad of Herr E. Somewhere a long time ago, two men stand facing each other in a round tower room. For the sake of pity and shame, let us call them Herr E. and Lord P. On our right, behold the coltish figure, understatedly clothed, and sleek blond ponytail of bespectacled, boyish Herr E.; on our left Lord P., aristocratic and deceptively youthful-looking, all velvet, rich auburn curls and sleepy-lidded smiles.The Ballad of Herr E.3 years ago in Scraps More Like This
They were lovers until a moment ago. But as Herr E. has just come to realize, they were never friends.
Lord P.'s eyes glint emerald. Precisely, coldly. "What's the matter, darling?"
"You could have told me." Forward Herr E., face blank. "You could have told me any time you wanted. You hid everything from me. Your life, my life: the life I could've had if I hadn't been so busy trying to scrape and bow and toady to you For what? So I can end up like them? So you can lick my blood off