01-31-2017, 12:30 AM
He breathed through the pain, let it bleed from him. Let it beat in tune to a steady pulse. Slow, weakened, but steady. The familiar chill against his skin, followed by the irritating itch as it dripped, told him it had spilled over again. His blood drained to the earth. A passerby might think he was dying, he thought absently. They would be mistaken. Maybe. Or could he die internally and yet still live on?
A familiar warmth trickled into him, a stream of the most soothing sensation, healing magic. Hers. He flinched violently, tightened and curled in on himself. Black skull burrowed against the soft dirt as if it could cradle him. Even as his mind wished it wasn't happening, was just a dream or an illusion, his body knew the truth and drew it further in hungrily. It gripped and pulled, stole more of her as greedily as he had. Filled himself, and still couldn't get enough. His face was pinched in a strained grimace, his body full and warm and whole, and he strangled a cry of agony.
Because it healed his body.
But broke his heart.
His thin sides heaved gulps of air as though he'd been put through torture, not healed. Not cured. Not cared for. But they were all cared for with her. He struggled to a half-rise, body trembling, leaning on an elbow with his head bowed to the ground. His breath stirred the dirt an inch from his nose in wild bursts, stringy black hair curtaining his face, and shoulders hunched. His pulse was no longer slow and weak.
He kept his eyes closed, afraid to look at her, afraid to see her. Afraid of what it would do to them. Was she glaring and hating him? Were her big, brown eyes pleading and needing? Did she weep as he wished to. It was best not to know. Best not to show her the brokenness that had consumed him, the fragile glass of his cold eyes. He was not what she needed, and never would be. He should not be selfish and look at her one last time, just because he wanted to.
He swallowed, and shuddered. He fought himself. Don't look. Just ignore her, let her walk away, he thought forcefully. But his was a selfish heart, and he wanted to see her again. Just a look, just a quick glance. That was all. needed more, just a little more.
His head shifted but a fraction, a subtle change, because he could feel where she was. He could sense her as clearly as his own heartbeat. He shouldn't do this. He shouldn't let her see, shouldn't let her know. He was destruction. And perhaps she deserved to see how damaging he was. Perhaps she deserved to know she was not alone in this as she slept with the image of him swaddled around her. He was glad that she slept.
Slowly, hesitantly, around the curve of his shoulder and through a gap in his hair, he opened harshly reddened eyes. Bloodshot and tired, so dry. His breath was labored as he held himself. So tired. So empty. So broken and laid bare for her. Sleepless. Not even the blackness would claim him anymore. Even the air burned them. They rolled back and he fell heavily back on his side with a sharp exhale.
There. It was done. Now she knew he was getting his payment for hurting her, for leaving her alone in the forest that day. For not coming to find her again -not when she was awake and aware. He was destruction. Destroying her, destroying everyone. Slowly erupting from within himself just as this bone armor was. Eating away at his own life. The damage he caused could never be healed by her magic.
But for that moment, he thought he could sleep.
He could see her again. Calm, stoic, any emotion shielded from prying eyes.
Good. Be strong. Leave me as I left you and never look back.
I know I can't ask you to stay
But I've stayed awake
A familiar warmth trickled into him, a stream of the most soothing sensation, healing magic. Hers. He flinched violently, tightened and curled in on himself. Black skull burrowed against the soft dirt as if it could cradle him. Even as his mind wished it wasn't happening, was just a dream or an illusion, his body knew the truth and drew it further in hungrily. It gripped and pulled, stole more of her as greedily as he had. Filled himself, and still couldn't get enough. His face was pinched in a strained grimace, his body full and warm and whole, and he strangled a cry of agony.
Because it healed his body.
But broke his heart.
His thin sides heaved gulps of air as though he'd been put through torture, not healed. Not cured. Not cared for. But they were all cared for with her. He struggled to a half-rise, body trembling, leaning on an elbow with his head bowed to the ground. His breath stirred the dirt an inch from his nose in wild bursts, stringy black hair curtaining his face, and shoulders hunched. His pulse was no longer slow and weak.
He kept his eyes closed, afraid to look at her, afraid to see her. Afraid of what it would do to them. Was she glaring and hating him? Were her big, brown eyes pleading and needing? Did she weep as he wished to. It was best not to know. Best not to show her the brokenness that had consumed him, the fragile glass of his cold eyes. He was not what she needed, and never would be. He should not be selfish and look at her one last time, just because he wanted to.
He swallowed, and shuddered. He fought himself. Don't look. Just ignore her, let her walk away, he thought forcefully. But his was a selfish heart, and he wanted to see her again. Just a look, just a quick glance. That was all. needed more, just a little more.
His head shifted but a fraction, a subtle change, because he could feel where she was. He could sense her as clearly as his own heartbeat. He shouldn't do this. He shouldn't let her see, shouldn't let her know. He was destruction. And perhaps she deserved to see how damaging he was. Perhaps she deserved to know she was not alone in this as she slept with the image of him swaddled around her. He was glad that she slept.
Slowly, hesitantly, around the curve of his shoulder and through a gap in his hair, he opened harshly reddened eyes. Bloodshot and tired, so dry. His breath was labored as he held himself. So tired. So empty. So broken and laid bare for her. Sleepless. Not even the blackness would claim him anymore. Even the air burned them. They rolled back and he fell heavily back on his side with a sharp exhale.
There. It was done. Now she knew he was getting his payment for hurting her, for leaving her alone in the forest that day. For not coming to find her again -not when she was awake and aware. He was destruction. Destroying her, destroying everyone. Slowly erupting from within himself just as this bone armor was. Eating away at his own life. The damage he caused could never be healed by her magic.
But for that moment, he thought he could sleep.
He could see her again. Calm, stoic, any emotion shielded from prying eyes.
Good. Be strong. Leave me as I left you and never look back.
I know I can't ask you to stay
But I've stayed awake
