#ratterrock drabbles

[welcome-to-ratterrock]

Could we get some writing based off Padraic making a heart locket cell for Locke?

Ask and ye shall receive.

My Heart Holds You

Padraic had always held the opinion that Sage Locke’s eyes were never lovelier than when he was in the grip of an intense emotion. Obsession, excitement, ecstasy, anger…his handsome little mouse wore extremes well. 

And now, oh…the green was ardent with anger,  lovely with lividness, stunning with seething. Irate and incomparable. Locke bared his teeth at Padraic liked he would like nothing better than to bite him, and Padraic smiled dotingly in return, his own teeth sharp and smug. 

Snarling, Locke curled those clever hands of his into fists and beat at the walls of his lovely new abode with all his might. “LET ME OUT OF HERE, YOU BASTARD!” 

“Shan’t,” Padraic retorted fondly. “You brought this on yourself, darling, you know I demand the best from my employees and you simply cannot give me that if you don’t rest—“

“So you imprison me?!” Locke kicked at a golden, gleaming wall. “In this ridiculous contraption?!”

Padraic pouted, his handsome face full of exaggerated hurt. “Ridiculous? I rather think romantic is a far better adjective.”

Really, it was some of his finest work. The heart shaped locket had been a fabulous find, all glittering gold and etched oh so sweetly with lilies, just the type of prize he liked to have in his hoard. 

But to have it repurposed and reconstructed into a cell, with one half of the heart serving as a roof while the other was a floor, whilst bars lined the edges? Genius. 

Although holding heart was a much better title, cell was so common and coarse. He had created it to carefor his chemist. 

Said chemist was still glaring at him with those gorgeous green eyes, and Padriac couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s also deliciously clever given your surname, you know. Locke in a locket. It’s almost adorable, truly—“

“When I get out of here,” Locke growled, low and ominous as he leaned out between the bars, his fingers straining and his eyes burning, “I will be cooking up the most horrible chemical weapons for the sole purpose of destroying you.”

“I look forward to it,” Padraic said sincerely. There truly was nothing like facing off against Locke, he had such a mind. He then wagged a finger playfully at him, fighting the urge to grin at the popped eyed look of offense the action prompted from Locke. “But in order to get out, you must sleep! Eight hours, all in a row. No trying to be tricky with naps, darling. Now, I must be off, duty calls…”

He spun on his heel and Locke gave a roar of fury. “I’LL DYE YOUR FUR GREEN!”

“Wouldn’t suit my eyes at all,” Padriac threw over one broad shoulder, grinning wickedly. He ducked just in time as one of Locke’s shoes came hurtling at his nose, and he tutted. This is why he had instructed his lackeys to take his shoes away, goodness…

Locke’s scream of frustration rang in his ears, and Padriac snapped his tail in farewell, feeling quite pleased with himself.