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  • Beqanna

    version 22: awakening


    GHAUL -- Year 209


    "(souls are not meant to live more than once — death was not meant to be temporary, and she is so sure that every time her heart starts to beat again that irreversible damage is further inflicted)" -- Anonya, written by Colby

    [private]  when your heart is a stranger

    What he asks for is an easy gift for her to give and Agetta nods her understanding before she finds her voice - forcing it to remain level though it trembles still with the tears that won’t stop. “Of course. As long you need.”

    Plume says he needs time, but she knows that means space too. Knows that after they separate tonight, she’ll spend every day wondering if this will be the day she will see him again. Every night wondering whether he’ll appear over the crest of a hill like the moon and break apart the darkness she has drowned herself in.

    She tries not to think about how it would be better if this was it - if he never saw her again after tonight. Perhaps it is her turn to haunt the afterlife alone but content with the knowledge that he was alive. That his light could shine for someone else.

    It is that thought that drives her to speak again. She won’t move towards him again, it is already too late for one last kiss, one last touch. But if this is it, there’s one thing she cannot regret leaving without saying. “I love you.” The words are little more than a whisper in the night air, a quiet confession of a truth she knows is destroying them both. But she needs to say them because she is afraid she will never get another chance. Even now they taste like a goodbye in her mouth, a finality to the weight they carry.



    It hurts and he can feel the howling beginning in the back of his head.

    He can feel the way that it scratches there, digging claws into him until blood rushes to the surface. He so desperately wants to flare his wings and take to the skies, but he remains rooted—for now. Forces himself to live in this pain because there is a part of him that knows he deserves this. That knows he is finally getting exactly what he deserves and the fact of it tastes bitter, feels so cold against his throat.

    Will she leave and go to him?

    To this other man?

    Will they smile and curl around their child? Will they be happy?

    The thoughts swirl in his mind, torment him, and he swallows down the scream that has begun to build in him. He almost lets it escape when she tells him that she loves him—when the words score across his flesh. He winces, visibly, at the words and then closes his eyes, trying desperately to get a hold of himself.

    “I love you too,” he says, so quiet—impossibly quiet—with his eyes still closed.

    Because he does, of course he does. He loved her in his first life. He loved her in death. He loved her enough to come back across the veil and find himself in a world that he no longer recognized and a world that no longer recognized him. He loves her now even with his heart ripped clean from his chest.

    “I have to go,” he manages, voice thick.

    And it takes all of his strength to turn from her, to finally find his wings, and to take flight.

    Away, away, away.


    but my heart, it don’t beat, it don’t beat the way it used to


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