So, months later, I finally wrote something (yeah… I really didn’t want to finish my book that his actually due for tomorrow exam -_-). That goes right before the above scene from Marylune and just after that scene and that one, the first one alse being from Marylune. Now, I will just have to find what will go after, but that might be for in another few months (I just realized how slowly I was writing Blackice by now…. I think we need to rewatch it!).
Three weeks later…
Pitch was all rolled up in his black dress, trying to hide every hints of him being a beast - of him being him - even looking down while he was walking, feeling out of place, but nothing seems to be enough. People were still looking at him, whispering loudly behind his back. He could heard every words they were saying, and none of them were kind. Just some pure cruelty. Even if he had give Jack his freedom weeks ago, they were still talking about how of a monster he was to have made him his prisoner.
He groaned, walking faster as he tried to avoid all of them. As he tried to escape all those words. But it was just a desperate hope as it seems they were fallowing his every steps.
Pitch was glancing around, trying to catch sight of Jack. That was the whole point of him going in the city after all. He couldn’t kept his promise. He couldn’t stay away. He just needed to see him, to see that he was doing okay without him, that he was now happy. Maybe after that he would be able to forget and resign himself to his life.
When he turned at a corner, he swallowed. He was still aching for Jack promise. Of course, he should have known he wouldn’t hold on it. Now that he was free, there was no way Jack would care about some monster like him. But every day, Pitch has hoped. He has passed countless of those days at his window, waiting for him to come back. He never had. And Pitch has just growth more and more frustrated. Until that morning where he decided that he should go take a look by himself. Maybe there was some reason. Or maybe Jack was just doing fine now that he wasn’t a prisoner anymore.
He finally spotted him; running around, laughing with some friends while they were all sliding on the ice Jack has probably created. So Jack wasn’t just doing fine, he doing perfectly. He even has moved forward, probably forgetting all about his jailer in the mean time. Of course he had, who wouldn’t?
As much as he tried, Pitch couldn’t deny for very long the ache that was taking upon his chest, growing by the instant. His hand clashed on it, pushing hard against it in the impossible hope of squeezing his heart to stop the pain.
Oh that he has missed this laugh. Countless of times he has cherished the hope that he could share it while they still were both at the castle, but it was a forbidden act that he never let himself fall into. Beast didn’t laugh, beast were just groaning. Seeing all those people doing it with Jack - his Jack, he thought possessively - wasn’t only making him jealous; he surprised himself feeling the desire to kill everyone of them. To become a murder just because he couldn’t be anything else.
Pitch kept his feet to walk toward Jack, staying hidden in the shadow of the wall instead. He could have had that - Jack did tell him he was liking him after all. He could, but he didn’t. When he free Jack, he has made his choice. He has been the one to want this. Now he just has to suffer the consequences of his youth days. That was what the curse was about, wasn’t it? Suffering, loneliness, despair.
With one last glance toward Jack - taking his time to print every detail of him in his mind as he did promise himself he would never set a foot in the city again - Pitch finally stepped back, ready to regain his the loneliness of his castle with a heavy heart….
He didn’t make three step before he freeze on his spot, irritated. Birds. There were actual birds flying toward him. Pitch groaned. Birds touched him. Settling down on him. On his arms. On his head. More murderous desires. He wanted to kill them all. Why on earth has he thought it was a good idea to come in the city?