Feeling her shudder against him, he perhaps tightened his hold on her just barely, giving what was hopefully a gentle sense of security to her. When he spoke, he flickered his eyes from her to around the Temple to the storm and back to her. Always back to her. That seemed to be how his life ran. No matter how strongly he wanted to put his past behind him, to start over and disappear under a false name, to just go, something always dragged him back in, held him where he was because that was where he belonged, whether he cared to agree or not. Now, sitting with Ashe pressed against him smelling of rainwater and wine high above the Temple floor, he knew that whatever path he was following was the right one, whatever hardships he endured were part of what it took to grow. He knew.
She didn’t have an outward reaction to his admission of having saved her all those years ago, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t there to provide astounding realizations, but to show her there’s hope, there’s light. There always was.
His arms bore the scars of the countless times he had taken a razor sharp knife to them. It had started when he was just eleven years old and continued from there. For four years he had drawn his own blood in such a way, desperate to end his life before it had even truly begun, desperate to shove away the memories of abuse from a father who took the form of a masked shadow, of agony from beatings and harsh training sessions, of the one sick blueblood who enjoyed eight-year-old boys. He should have died eighteen years ago, but he hadn’t.
The only reason he was still alive, the only reason he stopped trying to end his miserable, worthless life when he was fifteen was because of her. Ashe was the sole reason he was still breathing, the sole reason he was able to stay strong through the shared hell they went through in the Guild. She was the reason he lived long enough to complete school. She was the reason he lived long enough to hold her through night terrors. She was the reason he lived long enough to keep her from their Master’s twisted appetite for over a year, even if he ultimately failed. She was the reason he lived long enough to raise Theea. She was the reason he lived long enough to sit with her above the Temple to keep her from spiraling too far to return from. She was the reason for everything that had come of his life.
He saw the blood on her lip and would carefully touch it to wipe it away. As he listened to her talk, Kalt felt a deep ache in his chest begin to erupt, yet it settled inside of him like a flow of lava. It burned and consumed everything in its path. It was thick and hot and unstoppable, but it was calm. After the initial eruption, it moved through his body slowly, dangerously, unrelenting but giving his mind the time to adapt to the seething consumption. The only thing that centered his mind once again was the feeling of her fist closing on his chest.
That was it. He would talk her off the ledge. He would fucking wrestle a blade out of her hand. He would shatter hundreds more of those wine bottles. But that was the moment he decided enough was enough. She wasn’t journeying down that path. She wasn’t allowed to fucking do that, to even think she’s close to worthless. If he could have murdered the thought itself, he would have without hesitation. Instead, he would have to make do with what he had racing to the tip of his tongue to get out.
”Ashe, look me in the eyes,” he said. Rather, demanded, as he shifted himself and her with him until he was able to angle her enough to face him, enough for their eyes to meet. ”Don’t look away, I don’t care how hard it is.” She wasn’t getting away from this. She had to hear it, and he needed to know. ”Tell me, right now... Do you want to be alone? Do you want me to leave, here and now? Say the word, and I’m gone. But don’t you fucking dare try to tell me that I should hate you. Don’t you fucking dare tell me that being in your life causes only pain because there isn’t a single person alive who I would rather have by my side. So, tell me. Tell me right now, and I’ll listen. Do you truly, honestly want to be alone?”
It was her decision. Every word was raw enough to draw blood from the heart beating in him, but he was sincere in the question. If she told him she wanted to be alone, that would be the end of it. He would leave the Temple without another word, take Theea, and disappear. He’d done it before, he could do it again. If she said no...if she admitted to him, to herself that she didn’t want to be alone, he wasn’t moving a muscle until she was ready to leave.
Ashetta
kalt
give into the night.
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