black hearts, the wicked never rest. i curse the day i let you in
so tell me dear,
She can feel the space between them shorten, feel the way his body nears her own – warm in comparison to the rest of what she feels – cold, dark, hollow, empty. But he hasn’t left, hasn’t grown frustrated or angry at her rise in tone, hasn’t done anything but been a board to sound off on. A wall to scream at. A pillar. He tells her there’s options, calm and collected, and she wants to fight back against it, but she doesn’t have it in her. He tells her that monsters can be slain, and she wants to tell him that she couldn’t slay that one.
That she’s a failure, that she’s useless, that she’s not enough.
That she’s not like him, or Amalia, or Remi, or Ronin that could go out and do things and be successful in their attempts.
That perhaps she’s not meant to continue on this way, a faltered warrior, scarred from battles she’s scarcely won. She can feel her flame flickering lower and lower, feel it burning out beneath the pale ivory of her skin, heels of her hands pressed into her eyes before he opens his arms and reaches toward her, and she’s helpless to stop it. Nor does she want to.
And she’s shaking, beneath the attempts of trying to hide, covered in gore and debris, covered in so many wrong things, that she can’t help but to feel the tightening of his arms at her announcement. He’s right. There wouldn’t have been a point in the grand scheme. Just a point to make it end. That perhaps her and Ru’in could be together in some form of an afterlife if they could gather his soul, too.
But he asks her if she believes he would have wanted that, and she peels the hands from her eyes, to look up at him as she trembles, shakes, breaks beneath the weight of his narrowed, sharpened gaze, beneath the failure of her biggest attempt. “He did it to me first.” She snaps, recalling the way Ru’in had walked away from her cries, her attempts to get him to go into the Portal with her, when all he had done was follow his sister into the teal embrace of Kisamoa, walking away from her, to embrace death itself.
It’s only fair.
That she’s a failure, that she’s useless, that she’s not enough.
That she’s not like him, or Amalia, or Remi, or Ronin that could go out and do things and be successful in their attempts.
That perhaps she’s not meant to continue on this way, a faltered warrior, scarred from battles she’s scarcely won. She can feel her flame flickering lower and lower, feel it burning out beneath the pale ivory of her skin, heels of her hands pressed into her eyes before he opens his arms and reaches toward her, and she’s helpless to stop it. Nor does she want to.
And she’s shaking, beneath the attempts of trying to hide, covered in gore and debris, covered in so many wrong things, that she can’t help but to feel the tightening of his arms at her announcement. He’s right. There wouldn’t have been a point in the grand scheme. Just a point to make it end. That perhaps her and Ru’in could be together in some form of an afterlife if they could gather his soul, too.
But he asks her if she believes he would have wanted that, and she peels the hands from her eyes, to look up at him as she trembles, shakes, breaks beneath the weight of his narrowed, sharpened gaze, beneath the failure of her biggest attempt. “He did it to me first.” She snaps, recalling the way Ru’in had walked away from her cries, her attempts to get him to go into the Portal with her, when all he had done was follow his sister into the teal embrace of Kisamoa, walking away from her, to embrace death itself.
It’s only fair.
can your heart still break?
if it's already stopped breathing?
KIADA
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
