who we are and all that we're trying to be
His heartbeat stuttered, quaked in his chest; right and justified in his stubbornness, in his petulance, for the moment. He didn’t feel like he’d won, because the echoes still crashed and wailed against his spine, the ultimatums drawn into flares, the clenching of his jaw as he sat inside, listening to the drones of the wind, to the inscriptions of monsters. They’d found his weaknesses twice in the span of mere hours, and the vulnerability, the aches, the pains, wouldn’t recede - outside and safe - until she simply wasn’t.
Until they got to her.
Until he lost again.
He traded one torment for another, inclining away from the wall, yearning to do something more than merely stare at it – to unravel the monster on the other side, to destroy everything in its path, to ensure none of this would happen again.
But that was how he’d gotten here in the first place – believing himself wholly capable.
The Sword walked, waited, and paced, back towards the outline of Rexanna’s door.
{FIN}
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
