The Siren's Song

Chapter 103- swan song

(Y/N) POV:

The curtains part, a single spotlight that follows the hauntingly alone figure that slowly moves across the stage, fluttering wings of black bent and broken, limbs weary and exhausted as they move. As if each step takes monumental effort, as if each spin and glide is with weights anchoring her feet to the ground, to the depths of the dark waters, threatening and trying to drag her under.

The scars on her back are pronounced, harsh jagged red lines that scour skin when she twists, body seeming to writhe and arch with pain, back seeming to weep tears of blood where the gashes stretch with the curve of her body, moving across as the music winds around her and demands her to move, to respond.

There's something painfully familiar about looking at her dance, it almost feels as if my mind is disconnected from my body, it's as if I'm simultaneously sitting in the audience, eyes fixated on the stage and at the same time as if I'm watching myself move across stage; flickering in and out of the dance. Something about each elegant cut and twist and spin that made me feel as if it was me twisting and moving across the stage, finally reaching for the second figure, finally seeing that I wasn't alone. That I was seeing not a vision, not an illusion but rather a person slowly and gracefully moving; each inch of his body controlled and precise in its movements. There was a honed grace in the lines of his face.

And I saw the couple move, a sweet deadly duet as their bodies came together, intertwining and leaning and depending on each other...seeing them from my seat, body tilted forward as if tugged by the music. Her wings flutter, a weak tremble as she tries to fly, body arched, arms stretched upwards, body suspended in air, supported by strong arms gripping her waist. And I yet what I see is Minnie reaching for me, skin visible through the sheer black fabric, collarbones sharp and neck arched as he tilted his head with mine, searching and looking for something only my gaze could only see. Holding me as he helped broken wings flutter and splay wide, helping me as he became a new pair of wings instead.

The music is a sweet lilting piece, an orchestral piece that lifts and soars, a loud crescendo that's the crashing of waves, a low constant thrum of string instruments that and the thudding boom of the echoing drum that resonates in my ears; a heartbeat that quickens with each shred of trust and hope and love. A peak that the music reaches as the intertwined couple's bodies sink together, curved against each other, heads intertwined like swans do. 

Swans mate for life.

And in the trust and love that clings onto the dancers I see such a vow in their hold and in their gaze, I feel it in the soft trill as the song comes to soften, comes to settle around them, blanketing them with its tender touch.

And when they still, the spotlight falls on her back, softens the harsh gaping wounds of her scars; the light smoothens the edges, makes them fade.

And when it fades, engulfing the stage in darkness, the silhouette of them remains, burned across my mind.

A tale that began with pain.

And ended with healing, ended with wounds closing.

I hear the sound of applause as something numbed, blocked away slightly, filtering through to my ears as if I'm underwater and hearing the sound try to penetrate the waters.

Find that my feet stagger when I push myself upright, body struggling to cooperate and listen to me, the world tilts only momentarily before there's a hand curling around my waist and steadying me, a soft whispered murmur in my ear as Jinnie holds me. Smiling softly at me and achingly tender as he thumbs under my eyes to catch the few tears that have fallen. Droplets glistening where they pearl on the pad of his thumb.