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“Are you ready, Corazon?”
The man who may have once been known by a name now forgotten did not respond, his mouth locked in that grimace - one could not truly call it a smile, for it was not joy that he felt. It was something more basal. It was an emotion with no name - an exaltation of a great ruler married with the anguish of an ego long tattered. Corazon found it difficult to remember a time before this feeling dominated his mind, nor did he want to. Could he live without his strings? He knew there was once another man—a weaker man—who had reservations and doubts. A man with a dream, yes—maybe he was a better man, a more active man—but it did not matter now. That man had died a long time ago, and it was in his skin he walked.
“ROOM.”
A single flick of his hand was the spark, a miniscule flame that would lead to the ignition of the brightest star. From his palm grew that familiar blue bubble - the ability gifted to him so long ago by a man who was unable to know his place. Perhaps that could have been him—should have been him—if things were different. Someone who died for what they believed was right. Yeah, right. He had nothing worth dying for - nothing he believed in.
“You're rather eager, aren't you?” The king said, his tongue appearing to have a mind of its own - maybe it had aspirations of freedom. Maybe once upon a time, Corazon did too. Maybe he still does… but he doubts it. Stepping forward, Doflamingo circled around his loyal subject to stand behind him, his hand finding a comfortable resting place on Corazon's shoulder. He did not reply—he knew that to reciprocate would be a mistake—instead opting to focus on the operation. The distractions would continue to pile on: the warm breath on his neck, the soft kneading of his shoulder…
“Shambles.”
Almost immediately, Corazon felt the breath behind him become laboured. Doflamingo did not speak, which was almost worse than him saying anything at all.
“Takt.”
Levitating through the room, the heart that was sundered came to lay in his hand. The previously gentle (relatively speaking) hand of his king became firm, its motions rough and rhythmic. Corazon felt a pit in his stomach, the same feeling that he had felt many times before. His hand began to shake despite his best attempts at obfuscation. Although he could not see it, he knew that a grin had formed just outside his periphery. He should hurry - tardiness was not becoming of an elite officer, especially one with such an important task.
“You have been an exemplary asset, Corazon,” Doflamingo whispered, as he caressed his own heart. “Now… pay me back for what you took from me so very long ago.”
The heart began to glow, radiant auras of blue and purple shooting out like hot lightning. It began to quiver in place, the semi-beats matching its owners' breaths. “Live forever, my king,” Corazon whispered, as felt an entire lifetime's worth of vitality exit his soul - it was no longer for himself. It was for Him.
Corazon's legs began to buckle, but there was no one to catch him as he tumbled backwards onto the floor. Doflamingo had taken to examining his new heart - a heart that would bestow unto him a body free of senescence.
“Fufufufufufu…” He chuckled, inserting his prize directly into his chest. “You have done very well, Law.” He took a step over the body of Law, kneeling down to meet his face. Slowly—painfully slowly—he lowered his sunglasses, revealing his eyes. The eyesight lasted for but a moment, but a moment was all he needed. Doflamingo stood up, before taking a seat on a nearby table. Law lay there coughing up blood, his vocalizations a mixture of laughter and screaming, with the occasional interruption of blood spewing forth from his lungs.
He didn't know it would hurt this badly.
As his body writhed, he saw Doflamingo's figure begin to shift and swirl. Was his coat always purple? And since when did Doffy start smoking? It was all so confusing…
Perhaps… perhaps he just needed some sleep…