mahogany ; d.m

64 - alive

"And you—you don't care?" he asked.

"Of course I care. But I certainly don't condemn you for doing any of those things. We need to do what we have to in order to survive, right? It's not like you had any fucking choice."

His reserve towards her frustrated her. She'd expected this from the very first moment they spoke, but it was worse now. Although there was familiarity, the difference in him was too extensive. The blankness behind his eyes was better at concealing the truth of his emotions. She found it more difficult to read him.

"Athena, I'm so fucking sorry for—"

"Please—don't. I don't want you to apologise. It's in the past," she sighed, ignoring the wrenching pain in her chest. "Just leave it there—leave it alone."

Because she had the feeling they didn't have very long together, and she certainly didn't want to waste that time fretting over what had already happened. What couldn't be changed.

"I only want to be here with you now—" she continued, but suddenly her heart plummeted when hypocritically recollecting the past. "—if you'll want me again," she tried to hold back the heavy lump of emotion in her throat, preparing for her heart to be torn apart for the hundredth time.

She didn't know why he came here. She'd hoped it had been the same reason as hers, but she couldn't be sure. It seemed likely that he would say no. It was still too unsafe, he was a risk, two months ago his family were about to have her killed.

Too many reasons not to be together. The reasons they had ignored before, that had lead them here.

"You think I don't want you?" he asked, unbelieving.

She made no reply, chaotically fidgeting with her hands, looking down at them, because she knew if she let herself look at him, she would only burst into tears.

She could feel his absence again and he hadn't even left. The gaping hole in her heart that had been temporarily filled by just being close to him, was beginning to fray open.

One of his hands enclosed over both of hers, putting a stop to their chaotic fidgeting. He loomed over her and he was so close. Closer to her than he had been in what felt like forever.

"I will always be yours," he uttered, brushing his fingertips along her jawline, his icy touch making her flinch.

She recalled the letter, felt herself perishing internally.

His hand tilted her head upwards, thumb brushing against her skin, forcing her eyes to fall onto his. And it was like gazing into a storm over a battlefield.

"How could you even begin to think that I wouldn't want you?"

"You said in the letter—"

"Forget what I said in the letter. That day—all this time spent away from you, when I spent months considering the possibility that you were dead and feeling what a world without you in it was like—I realised I couldn't be without you. I never want to be without you again. So forget what I said."

His hand moved to her cheek, grabbing hold of her even more longingly.

"I've been dead inside for a long time, but you make me feel fucking alive. You're everything to me, Athena."

And once again, like a moth fluttering to an incandescent flame, she was his. She had always been his.

"You're everything," he whispered, caressing the surface of her cheeks with his thumb, swiping at the fallen tears and smoothing them into her skin.