As the weather here is rainy and gloomy, this is going to be a slightly emo, piece of work. I hope it's enjoyable regardless.
There was a ticking in his world. But there were no clocks anywhere nearby.
There was silence now, a silence so strong that it made him nearly claustrophobic. He had been staring at the front door ever since it slammed shut. It had shut with such a force it seemed to cause a minor earthquake that had made him shiver. And she was gone. And to think all of it had started because he was expressing his concern for her wandering off at night after he had gone to sleep.
He sat on one of the couches, surrounded by a pack of dogs that seemed to understand the icy atmosphere. None of them wagged their tails, but instead looked upon him with curious question marks floating about their eyes. He leaned forward and began to pet one of them, not even bothering to look at which one it was.
"Sometimes she drives me insane," he murmured distantly to nobody.
He loved his girlfriend, and had sworn he'd stand beside her through everything. It was his luck he would fall for a girl who was required to fight a mythical demon king. But he had learned so much at her side, and had gotten so much stronger and braver. Besides that, he got to know her. These far outweighed anything else. But the entire ocean was under the grips of the evil monster, and he and his love had found the vast majority of the population turned against them. But it didn't bother her, it seemed -- she went out every night after he went to bed, returning in the breaking of dawn.
All he did was mention his distress at her secrecy. He didn't know it would cause this -- a fight so intense it was worse than any demonic force he'd ever encountered, followed by her abrupt leaving despite his protests that she should stay.
He wasn't going to chase after her, though. She was far too mad; he was far too sullen. He looked out into the raining night and shook his head slowly.
She stomped through the night, growling and mumbling to herself, curses and swears of all varieties leaving her lips. In her hand, her sword was gripped tight enough to turn her knuckles white. Her hair draped her face in wet, messy clumps, but she could have cared less. She had not bothered to look over her shoulder to see if he had followed.
She was so tired of hearing the same thing -- stay inside, you're only going to get hurt. She had handled everything on her own just fine, and he just happened to stumble into the picture. If he would've just minded his own business so long ago... if only he'd just left her alone... just like everyone else.
Unbeknownst to herself, her rage was cooling and turning into a passionate longing to go back home, where she belonged, and apologize. She found herself thinking back to their hidden little house, wondering what he was doing. Had he started searching for her, or was he just sitting in the house, waiting on her return? Had he decided enough was enough, and had he made a retreat while she was gone? He was only looking out for her.
She growled loudly and swung her sword violently, leaving a two-inch wound in the trunk of a nearby tree. Her emotions were conflicted, and it was something she had never experienced in her life. She had grown up being cold and distant from everybody, not wanting to be hurt again. Yet here she was, her heart reaching out for somebody else. In her own efforts to prevent herself from feeling any pain, she was the sole reason she was hurting now. She cried out again, louder, and swung her sword blindly once again.
"What the hell is wrong with me!" She exclaimed, never feeling such a way. She swung her sword repeatedly, until her strength depleted, and then she stared at the damage she had caused. She blinked through her wet red hair, staring at the battered tree. The sight had struck another new nerve in her emotional arsenal -- was that what she had done to him with her words? What was she feeling now?
Her body began to quiver, and her tears mixed with the rain. She had so much learning left to do, and all of it was overwhelming and confusing. Learning to have emotions and caring for another was so hard, so taxing, so... frightening.
She needed him. He was always behind her, catching her when she fell. And she had just learned it. She knelt down to the ground, burying her face in her hands.
Back where she belonged, he had retired to bed. But he had lit a solitary candle, a faint symbol of hopefulness, worry, and welcoming that he hoped she would see.
And he slept with another candle at his side, hoping he would see his own message to himself.
1 comment:
I wanna read the rest of the story! Hurry up and finish it already! Please?
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