Manners with the Devil

49

G I A V A N N A           A M A T O

Pure blood leaked out of his head, spilling out all remembrance of his days upon the world.
It trickled far.
Puddles of it slowly flowed to my shoes.
To my legs.
My thighs.
My waist.
My hips.
My stomach.
My arms.
My heart.
Trapping me in responsibility and covering my existence.
Showing a mark of him.
A mark of love.
A mark of guilt.
A mark of sympathy.
A mark of forgiveness.
A mark of evil.
A mark of rememberings.

Images of his face flashed in my view.
my yells of distress vacated all presence of life from the room.
my eyes scattering the room, looking for comfort, whilst haze and tears caved my sight.
my body spinning into large discomfort, losing, falling to the floor.
my body closing in as I gaze at the faces above me.
And before my body gave in, my mind flickered to the thought of maintaining alcohol to spill down my throat once I woke up. Using the liquid to drown out my sorrows. To forget everything.
Yet, to this day, I have never ignored the despair it brought to my body.

The vision of their body laying dead across the floor.

________

I turned the corner, out from the hallway, entering the deceased, deserted, dead chamber. I didn't observe it much, as my only focus was the figure standing in front of me.

His appearance was familiar as I viewed him prior. In fact, reasonably better.
His jet-black hair was positioned perfectly, and each strand lay flawless. His jawline Sharp. His muscles peaking through the shirt he wore. His clothes were ironed and smart.
But most of all, his plunging, hazel eyes deeply staring at my soul.

I gazed into them for more moments than I should have. Certainly not out of comfort or adoration, but out of curiosity.

Was he real?

Why am I witnessing him?

What does he feel?

I thought he was dead?...

My stare followed in his, as I wondered these questions in my own head. But never found a reliable answer that would fit.

And it was only when he shifted his pupils from mine, that I assumed the silence spell in the room was terminated and that I could speak those queries.

He'd walk past me, his clothing slightly touching mine, walking to the other side of the square. "Sebastien," I spoke with no response other than my own echoed voice. "Sebastien," I called out again, this time considerably more audible.

His back faced me, whilst he answered my calling, his tone deep and manly, "Yes, malady?"

The voice sounded the very same. The way my nickname chimed in his thick, French accent sounded the very same.

"What's going on?" I ignore the deja vu sensations filling my blood, "Why are you here?"

Slowly, his figure pivoted around towards me. His eyes travelled straight to mine. Locking me into him. "What do you mean?"  his eyebrow raised in wonder. "I'm here." he looked down at his body, then back up at me again.

"No..." I muttered, shaking my head, and then, I spoke more clearly, "Why am I seeing you? You're dead. Am I dead?"

I lift my arms up to my sight, I looked down at my legs, and I touched my face with my hands. But I was here. I was there.

"No, no, no," he spoke, "You're not dead."

Our eyes coil into one another again.

"Why then?" I look at him with more concern showing inside my eyes, "Why am I talking and seeing a dead person?"

"Because I love you." he paused, "I'd like to keep you safe."

Both of my eyebrows raise to the top of my head, my eyes widening inches more, and my mouth opening in disgust.
"You did not just say that-" I gasp, covering my mouth from the laughter that would come out of it. "Sebastien Auclair- Are you insane?" a slight chuckle escapes my lips, "Are you, really?"

His body nor face doesn't move. But his eyes voyage to the floor. Not looking me in the eyes anymore.
"I'm perfectly okay Giavanna. All I want to do is to keep you safe and protected."

"This isn't a movie. You don't just enter the scene like a villain, attempting to make everything equal again." I speak, shaking my head, "I don't need your protection."

"Where is your protection then? Isn't it suppose to be Lucas?" his voice rose, as well with his eyes, "Where is he?" his eyes scatter the room, acting like a fool, showing how Lucas isn't here right now.

"Stop it," I murmur, "I can protect myself."

I'd never realised it before, but it was only when it got to his face being only inched above mine, and his shoulders inches from my face, that I realised we had been moving whilst bickering at each other.
I took one step back, separating and removing the reality from me.
However, he didn't incline towards that, as he took one step closer, shoving a dry smirk in my face. Then, he continued, with his head bent down to outlook me, "Where is Lucas?"

My neck reclined back, painfully, as I tried to look into his eyes whilst I spoke, "Lucas isn't here. I don't need him to be."

"Doesn't that say something?" he whispered, tilting his head to the side, "Doesn't it say everything?"

"No," I replied.

An annoyed smirk raised his lips, his eyes rolling back in his head, as he looked back down at me, "What about the clear fact that he doesn't love you enough to find you, and protect you?"

"Why do you care so much?" I scrunch my face in confusion, crossing my arms, "You're dead."

A/N - was off sick for two days, so decided to write, however it took me three days to do it. Sorry if its not the best