Chapter Text
It was a quiet night in Arkham. West and I had finished seeing our patients and retreated to our shared bedroom, resuming the old routine that had been established since we graduated from Miskatonic.
After our passion had passed, I still held West close, unwilling to leave the warmth we had created. An untimely curiosity compelled me to ask him a question I would later find stupid.
"Do you ever have fantasies about our relationship?" I nuzzled his temple.
"Are you just curious, or are you feeling insecure again?" He quivered at the touch.
"Just curious."
"I can hardly recall any. Except for one time in the Miskatonic library. When I touched the old anatomical wax model, I almost had a Pygmalion-like feeling, even though I did not create the model myself. I was thinking of you at that moment, and I didn't know why."
"Go on..." I felt myself growing excited again.
"But then I immediately noticed the heart was modeled incorrectly. The illusion shattered. I felt agonizingly empty." He caressed my cheek, disappointment flooding his pale, delicate features.
"Yeah... I can hear the pain in your voice. Sorry to hear that." I held him tighter to comfort him.
"But as soon as I turned around and saw you staring at me, I felt blithe again. You are so perfect, dearest." He smiled, his cold blue eyes twinkling under the lamplight and filling with desire once more.
"My pleasure." I surged forward into his embrace, our moans mingling together.
I am, and will always be, Herbert West's greatest creation.
We are each other's greatest creation.