100 Theme Challenge #45

45. Need

Obsession? A need to be obsessed about something or someone, be an actor, a game, a book, etc. as a distraction of life, to forget, just for a moment, our life, our problems, difficulties or wrongs. It's fresh air after shit and mud. The need/obsession to be something you never were created to be, aspirations to have the neighborhood's garden when yours is already looking decent enough. The need to look into the mirror too often for our self-esteem's well-being.

The need to please others who have no interest but in themselves, with no glance at your hard efforts. Too much effort thrown in the nothingness, not enough into your own desires, your péchés mignons. The need to love, freely. Needs can't be ignored, especially not the ones coming from the heart, be it for whoever it beats for.

His nib was scratching along the parchment as he was writing furiously, brows furrowed in concentration. Saulden only paused to dip the pen into the ink before the screeches would continue. Thoughts flowed to him, swirled into his head, and he'd spread them all over his papers, trying to make a bit of sense to this dazzling brainstorm. He was so concentrated on his writing that he was startled when he caught sight of someone at his side.

"Isabella, you scared me!"

"I'm sorry, darling. What are you writing?"

"I'm writing down some notes for my essay on the Heterosexual rights."

"Oh. About that, did you watch the Prime Minister's speech today?"

"Vaguely. His high-pitched voice is hard to ignore, I'll admit," he said, and Isabella chuckled as she leaned against him.

"He talked once again about how the heterosexuals are polluting the planet with babies, that it's a sin penanced by death, and anybody who witness them could get a reward for denouncing them."

"That's why we need to be more careful, honey. If the Templars were to find us together…" Saulden didn't finish his sentence, it hurt too much. He looked at Isabella with watering eyes, and she comforted him. She then urged him to continue writing. He was about to do so when someone knocked so fiercely on the door he through it'd come crash on the floor.

"Someone must has seen you!" He hushed in alarm, eyes wide.

"But I was careful, I'm sure!" She was frantic. He pushed her towards the balcony. "Flee, I'll take care of it. Know that I'll always love you."

They exchanged a quick but passionate kiss before she escalated the wall. My heart stays with you. Talking a deep breath, he answered the door. It was two Templars. "My apologies, I was on the pot chamber."

"Indeed, it smells like piss and shit in here," one of them snorted. He ignored the comment.

'Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes, you can. We witnessed a woman here in the Men's District, and witnesses said she was aiming for this area. We'd like to take a peak in your home, if it doesn't bother you."

"Of course not. Please, come inside."

The Templars looked at each other. "That's what he said." They barked in laughter, and Saulden followed suit with a fake laugh on his lips.

They took a look at his small apartment, finding nothing unusual. It wasn't until one of them saw his essay, with the HR, the Heteosexual Rights logo, visible on it, that he tried to make a run for it. They'd skin him alive just for being hetero!

(What is 100TC?)