All that is dark | ✓

14| calm

"I want to take you somewhere," he said quietly, hands playing with her hair as he spoke.

"I'll follow you anywhere, you know that," she said, pushing herself up on his chest to look at him.

"You stopped lying to me," he said as he searched her eyes, not an accusation, simply a remark," why's that?"

"You stopped playing games," she said," isn't it only fair I keep my own promise to you?"

"I wouldn't have asked that of you," he said.

"You don't need to ask for something to happen," she said, getting out of the bed," that's one of the principles of love, you know. It's unconditional."

"Until it's not," he said.

"Until it's not," she smiled, glancing over her shoulder at him," but fate has tied us together, darling. I'm afraid the only place we can hide from each other is seven feet under."

"How romantic," he grinned, jumping out of bed as well to place a kiss on her cheek," is this what marriage vows are like?"

"Yeah, for dysfunctional marriages," she chuckled, opening her wardrobe," where are we going? I'll know how to dress then."

He turned around towards the door, lingering by the opening for a moment. She hadn't seen him have much difficulty with speaking before, but when he glanced towards her, she could almost see the way he was still in mourning. Of course he didn't know how to give grief a place in his heart, not when he pretended he didn't have one. Even with it bleeding out in his words, he acted like everything was fine. It was jarring to see him so human.

"A graveyard," he said," there's one black dress in your closet. Wear that."

He waited for her downstairs when she was finished, the both of them clad in black hues. She didn't question him, silent as he drove at a speed which was sure to get them killed. Still, he didn't slow down, not until they reached the graveyard, far from the cities they had passed. Only the ghosts seemed to live here, no house to be seen in miles. A fence surrounded it, but the door creaked open when they neared, rust covering it like vines.

The death had been abandoned here for a long time, that was clear. Weeds had overgrown the tombstones, even the names not visible anymore due to the years they had been forgotten. It almost felt like they were intruding as they made their way to a small headstone, the only one which was tended to. Peonies were placed down in front of it, withered, but beautiful still.

"Your sister," she said.

She had known whose grave they were going to visit from the moment he had spoken of the death, but still, it was strange to see it with her own eyes. On the picture in his home she had looked so innocent, but now she was rotting, so young that leaving her alone here must have broken his heart. Killer or not, this had been the only family he had had. Once, he had been a big brother. Now, he was simply an orphan with blood staining his hands.

He lowered himself on the grass in front of the grave, as if begging for mercy, hand grazing past the peonies.

"Yes," he said," I can't seem to stop visiting her. Every night when I close my eyes, I see her dying over and over again, even though I don't care. Why do you think that is?"

"Why are you so sure you don't care?" she asked, kneeling down beside him.

"Because I'm cruel," he said," I decided to be, that day. There are many wicked men in this world and I'm worse than all of them. I have to be. How else can I atone?"

He seemed surprised at the words escaping his lips, as if it was all the first time he heard it as well. Firmly, he shook his head, letting the peonies go.

"I didn't mean that," he said," I must've gotten confused."

"She doesn't blame you, Nathan," Helene said.

Even though she had never known his sister, she had seen the bruises on her skin on the picture, the way her eyes had remained kind nonetheless. Nathan hadn't been the villain in that home, even though he had made it his goal to become the worst outside of it. Though he didn't seem to want to admit the possibility of feeling anything at all to himself, that much was clear to her.

"I don't care if she does," he said, but his words were hesitant.

They sat in silence for a while as she intertwined her hand with his, squeezing silently. Only when the sun went down and the chill of the night enveloped them, did she speak, voice gentle.

"Why'd you take me here, Nathan?" she said.

He got to his feet, gaze lingering on the tombstone for a moment longer. Only when he turned away, did he speak, as if he didn't dare to say anything with the eyes of the death on him.

"I wanted you to meet her," he said.

"Thank you," she smiled.

He glanced over his shoulder one last time, before extending his hand towards her.

"Let's go home."