It was not so strange the way the thunder rolled against the slate colored sky, fracturing what would have otherwise been a gentle, summer downpour. But it was a cruel magic, feeding off their emotions and if he would recall his memories he would have recognized the echo of fairy laughter that came with each crashing boom. They had played this game before, mischievous creatures they were and it had burned then, as it did now, igniting his very soul. This was not simply a fire of change, meant to lick him clean and replace the weaknesses of his mortal core. It hungered for him in a way he had never known, it tasted his flesh to end him, slowly leeching away at his self until eventually (and he realized this) there would be nothing left.
Painful does not begin to describe the ache that fills the cavity of his worn out chest as she races her lips upon his thin skin. Does she know it burns him, is she setting the very fire that overtakes his insides or did she mean to put out the flame? Momentarily his vision blurs, at precisely the same time the sky lights up with white light, a bar of electricity striking the earth like an angry whip. When it is back the sharp edges of her are gone, replaced with tender curves and eyes that wish to unhear the truth that her lips find with each pursed press against his flesh.
Had they always broken each other in this way?
“I’m sorry,” the word spilled like liquid from his blackened maw and it hung thick with regret. Somehow, deep down, he knew he had done this, all of this. To himself and to her and it is that knowledge of causing her anguish that pulled his heart into his throat. It was loud as he gulped it down, the pressure reaching his eyes and stinging at the corners that housed his glassy-green glare. A silent stream of tears trailed down his left cheek, and he pulled his heavy (because it felt like an anchor to him now) head away, twisting his neck in hopes that she would not see. How could she love something so fragile?
What aren’t you telling me?
Trembling legs found him then, as she pulled away he lurched, unable to steady himself with the sudden movement and he stumbled forward, knees to the mud. Normally he would have tried to immediately get up but he knew better to do so now, he had fallen like a rock and sharp pain shot up his body from the fall. He looked up at her now, lifting his black nose to the air to find her and not knowing exactly what to say. A single thought and worry formed though, and it was hard to ask but the alternative scared him and he didn’t know why. “Malis?” her name was a quiver. “Will you be with me, when it’s time?” His eyes were more glass now than ever, filling with water and taking on the frightened look of a child. They asked juvenile questions without speaking, will it hurt, where will I go?
“I don’t want to die alone,” because he felt so singular these days, unwhole and unmade in instant and something about her made him feel brave enough to face the end.