Bela Talbot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
enjoythe_ride) wrote2008-01-04 12:38 am
enjoythe_ride) wrote2008-01-04 12:38 am
[OMP] "Little Queen" lyrics
You'd rather have wine than gin
Only the finest by your skin
Always running after Time - catching
You're fancy with rhyme
Shining on the front page again
Hot on the presses today - little queen
Making your passion play - little queen
Nobody knows your melancholy mind -
Little queen
Bela Talbot was an ice queen.
She was attracted more to diamonds and jewels than heart and mind. She wouldn’t even look at you twice unless you were clean cut, well-dressed, and obviously willing to spend more of that money on her. She passed it off as a byproduct of her breeding, but they all knew that she really just liked the way things that cost more sparkled. She flirted and teased her way through society events, never letting anyone get closer than they should be, keeping everyone at arms length, and only giving what was equivalent to what she was receiving. And if you didn’t have a lot to offer, she didn’t have a lot to give.
She had a father who rewarded her with a larger bank account rather than hugs and terms of endearment, and a mother who spent too much of her time in an alcohol stupor to make up for it. Or, at least that’s what the rumors were. No one in the circle had ever really seen the Talbot family, only Bela, and so they had to go on how Bela acted in order to presume what her family was like. They had this elaborate image—rich, wealthy upper class. She was out of his reach and he knew it, they both did—but that didn’t stop him from trying anyway.
He had nothing to offer in the slightest. He didn’t have money, nor was he in any position to get some in the near future, but he went after her anyway. And at first she mocked him for wearing his heart on his sleeve, but he kept coming, determined to break through the jaded exterior to get to the girl underneath—the girl that she denied was there, but he knew. He wasn’t going to give up until he got there. And for a while, he thought he had.
For a while, it was quickies in the cloakroom at fancy parties, and weekends in his flat, with her in nothing but his shirt and they would just lay in bed forever, occasionally talking, but mostly just laying there, her watching the ceiling, and him watching her. He thought they had intimacy, he thought he knew her, and even though she still mocked him for his faith in love and happily ever after—he thought she might have been starting to believe with him. But then he realized that women like Bela never really changed. They just used men like him to buy the time until the one with the wallet came along. And once that realization was made, then came the fights—epic battles that only ended in heartbreak on his side and tears on hers—tears he wasn’t even sure were real, but she seemed to believe in them well enough.
There was one final explosion, and he didn’t hear from her for several months—radio silence so to speak. It was that day, months later, with rain pouring down the windows, that she showed up at his front door, looking like a drowned rat more than the usual sophisticate. But the eyes, they were still the same. The wide, green puppy dog eyes that used to get him to cave to whatever she wanted. She was stripped of it all now, all the glitz and glamour, and all she had left was her faith in him and the blood on her hands, that she kept trying to wash off like Lady Macbeth, and never succeeding. She was there in front of him, broken and hurting, and she wanted him to take it all away. To rely on the heard and mind rather than the diamonds and pearls, but he wasn’t going to let her win, not this time. He slammed the door in her face, saying no like he should have done so many years ago.
Once it was done, he tried to pretend like he didn’t hear the ice queen returning, locking away the Bela he wanted to see and freezing her up for good.
675 words
Only the finest by your skin
Always running after Time - catching
You're fancy with rhyme
Shining on the front page again
Hot on the presses today - little queen
Making your passion play - little queen
Nobody knows your melancholy mind -
Little queen
Bela Talbot was an ice queen.
She was attracted more to diamonds and jewels than heart and mind. She wouldn’t even look at you twice unless you were clean cut, well-dressed, and obviously willing to spend more of that money on her. She passed it off as a byproduct of her breeding, but they all knew that she really just liked the way things that cost more sparkled. She flirted and teased her way through society events, never letting anyone get closer than they should be, keeping everyone at arms length, and only giving what was equivalent to what she was receiving. And if you didn’t have a lot to offer, she didn’t have a lot to give.
She had a father who rewarded her with a larger bank account rather than hugs and terms of endearment, and a mother who spent too much of her time in an alcohol stupor to make up for it. Or, at least that’s what the rumors were. No one in the circle had ever really seen the Talbot family, only Bela, and so they had to go on how Bela acted in order to presume what her family was like. They had this elaborate image—rich, wealthy upper class. She was out of his reach and he knew it, they both did—but that didn’t stop him from trying anyway.
He had nothing to offer in the slightest. He didn’t have money, nor was he in any position to get some in the near future, but he went after her anyway. And at first she mocked him for wearing his heart on his sleeve, but he kept coming, determined to break through the jaded exterior to get to the girl underneath—the girl that she denied was there, but he knew. He wasn’t going to give up until he got there. And for a while, he thought he had.
For a while, it was quickies in the cloakroom at fancy parties, and weekends in his flat, with her in nothing but his shirt and they would just lay in bed forever, occasionally talking, but mostly just laying there, her watching the ceiling, and him watching her. He thought they had intimacy, he thought he knew her, and even though she still mocked him for his faith in love and happily ever after—he thought she might have been starting to believe with him. But then he realized that women like Bela never really changed. They just used men like him to buy the time until the one with the wallet came along. And once that realization was made, then came the fights—epic battles that only ended in heartbreak on his side and tears on hers—tears he wasn’t even sure were real, but she seemed to believe in them well enough.
There was one final explosion, and he didn’t hear from her for several months—radio silence so to speak. It was that day, months later, with rain pouring down the windows, that she showed up at his front door, looking like a drowned rat more than the usual sophisticate. But the eyes, they were still the same. The wide, green puppy dog eyes that used to get him to cave to whatever she wanted. She was stripped of it all now, all the glitz and glamour, and all she had left was her faith in him and the blood on her hands, that she kept trying to wash off like Lady Macbeth, and never succeeding. She was there in front of him, broken and hurting, and she wanted him to take it all away. To rely on the heard and mind rather than the diamonds and pearls, but he wasn’t going to let her win, not this time. He slammed the door in her face, saying no like he should have done so many years ago.
Once it was done, he tried to pretend like he didn’t hear the ice queen returning, locking away the Bela he wanted to see and freezing her up for good.
675 words
OOC
Re: OOC
ooc
Re: ooc