His quiet is somehow worse, his pain louder without the gnashing and tension. She can feel his resignation knows that soon he will let go and leave her and she wonders how she will stand when he goes. Or how she will stand herself. Before he’d come here Kensa had thought she could live on her anger and pain a while, let it feed her ambitions until she could let herself feel again. The difference now is...she recognizes what terrible things she has done to a man who loved her, and a man who would have.
Would have, just as she would have.
No, she is just not saying something again. A little omission to keep him safe. Once more self-awareness buries its hatchet in her ribs and Kensa is breathless. The tears would start again if there were any left. She presses her lips to his shoulder, but remains silent until Brigade embraces her and his words wash over her. Her chestnut shoulders tense. “I am not a beautiful thing.” Her bitter reply comes with a slow and nearly impossible step back, out of his embrace. Her words are juxtaposed against the glitter of gold around her ochre eyes which she levels on him once more. “You deserve the love of a truly beautiful woman, one who is not so pleased with her twisted heart.” Kensa reaches out to once more smooth his forelock across his forehead, to let her lips press tenderly to the ridge of his cheekbone.
“You are beautiful Brigade.” Words she cannot keep from saying knowing even as she does that he will hate them. That he will not understand. Just as he does not understand that it would have been impossible for her to stay away from him forever, that it still might be. This is a punishment she will suffer gladly and thinking of that Kensa kisses him again, though she should not. Let them tell themselves it is a kiss goodbye, hurried and unexpected just as the first.
