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"Harlequin!"
Harlequin could hear them- Feel them just as he heard the bed creaking and the soft mattress was plush against his knees as he thrusted. His tendrils kept their hands tied up and they were spread out for him with a blindfold covering their eyes. This would of been a sight to behold if he was their lover, however...
His eyes were trained on the golden ones that glared at him through the balcony's sliding door. His attention had been on the familiar gaze of Pierrot ever since he entered their home. Harlequin's smile was sharp and he forced them to let out a high-pitched cry from a particularly harsh thrust in hopes of getting a reaction out of Pierrot. He got none, but that was fine. He could see that rage in his eyes was trained solely on him. A tiny, sad, pathetic part of him was leaping for joy at the fact Pierrot was acknowledging him at all.
Do you see me?
He wanted to hiss that so badly, to verbally taunt Pierrot through the glass while he was thrusting into Pierrot's new "love". His attention had pulled their gaze from Pierrot to himself, making them brush Pierrot to the side despite how much he hated losing them. That was obvious enough in the way he watched Harlequin's every move. It only made this all the better for Harlequin to watch the beast who once had his heart struggle.
How does it feel to be pushed away? To watch like I had?
How does it feel to be me for a change?
Harlequin had never been happier?. He bit back a laugh as Pierrot glared daggers at him, likely promising in his silent look that Harlequin would be dead before the days end. Good. He should of done it when he had a chance all those years ago. When Harlequin couldn't take watching the monster he loved for years be taken away in a week after another, prettier, kinder monster was dragged into their containment.
Finally, Pierrot would know and never forget exactly how Harlequin felt all those years ago.
Harlequin had won and it tasted sweet. He saw Pierrot's eyes widen, but Harlequin didn't feel how the tears ran down his mask as he held Pierrot's glare. His smile was fixed onto his face as he continued to please Pierrot's "beloved".
His heart felt like it was going to be ripped out of his chest from how painful it felt. Why could Pierrot never look his way? Never say what mattered all those years ago when he didn't feel the same? Was Harlequin... Not enough?
He won and victory tasted sweet with a faint hint of salt from heart breaking tears.
Oh... How he hated sweet things the most.