It hurt. God, did it hurt.
There was nothing that hurt Cobra
worse than Tarantula's disapproval of him. Cobra should have been used
to that by now; he knew that Tarantula was never going to stop. But no
matter how many times it happened, the pain never seemed to decrease,
not in the slightest. As much as Cobra tried to gain Tarantula's
approval and love, it seemed that all he could get was disapproval or,
on a lucky day, simply a total and complete lack of acknowledgement.
Could
vampires cry? Cobra wasn't sure. However, in all honestly, Cobra was
only a half vampire. Perhaps the vampire side of him couldn't cry, who
knows. But the human side of him sure as hell could. Despite his almost
painful attempts to keep them in, the tears started to spill over,
rolling down Cobra's cheek, each one shining like a tiny, delicate
diamond.
Even as he cried, he couldn't help but begin making
excuses for Tarantula. After all, Cobra had been late. Cobra was the one
who was always messing up. Was it Tarantula's fault that he didn't want
to be associated with such clumsiness and failure as Cobra? Could
Tarantula truly be blamed for withholding his love from someone who was
completely and utterly undeserving? Of course not. As always, Cobra was
the one with fault, and he was the one who was simply getting exactly
what he deserved.
It didn't stop the pain, though. Nothing could
reverse the effects of Tarantula's harsh, unloving words. So, resigning
himself to a future of unending failure, Cobra did the only thing he
could do; he began cleaning up, just as Tarantula wanted him to do.
{1-2}
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