The beauty of a self-destructive fire (ending two)

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You pried your eyes open, examining your surroundings. The soft sounds of old music floated through the radio and rain thrummed against the windshield. Shalnark sat in the driver's seat in front of you, fingers tapping anxiously against the wheel. You looked down at your hands and moved your fingers one by one. They were slow and half were still numb. Your wrists were bound tightly in a thick grey rope. You were tired and you doubted that you were supposed to be awake right now. You flexed your muscles and tried to wake them up as much as you could without alerting Shalnark. It was hard, but you managed it before he noticed. Why should you even try? What good would it do? Your head was throbbing and you felt like you might have a fever. You leaned back in your seat and let your head slump down. You groaned as your head pounded, pulling his attention.

"Are you all right?" Shalnark asked worriedly, leaning forward from the driver's seat.

He held out a hand for yours.

"Hold on."

You stared blankly at him, then slowly reached out with your still-shaky hand. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and climbed into the backseat. He reached for a bottle of water, turning towards the back. You moved forward, wrapping your arms around his waist and placing your face on his shoulder. He froze, seemingly surprised that you weren't upset with him.

"I'm sorry." You mumbled, closing your eyes and sighing in contentment.

You heard a knock on the window and both of you turned to see a police officer. Shalnark reached for a needle but you advised him to pause. He opened the door, subtly cutting the rope behind your back. You stretched, leaning against the passenger side window while Shalnark spoke.

“Is everything okay here sir?”

"We were just taking a break. I thought she was asleep." He said, pointing at you.

The cop nodded and glanced into the backseat. You nodded in agreement. Why would you listen to a cop? Have they ever done anything for you?

"I was feeling road sick and he was helping me calm down" You spoke.

Shalnark seemed surprised that you were agreeing with him but kept his face happy for the officer. The cop gave you a quick glance, then left without another word.

"How are you feeling?" Shalnark asked, rubbing your shoulders.

You shrugged. "I feel fine."

He frowned, looking concerned again.

"I'm sorry. I'm ready to go home now."

He nodded slowly, still suspicious of your motives. You slipped into the passenger seat and looked out the window, listening to the befuddled figure climb into the driver. His words weren't clear to you but the tone made you feel better. He sounded kind and caring.

“I don't want to run anymore.” You turned towards him as he pulled back onto the road. “Especially when I can't help but still love you. I think I just needed some time to realise that.”

His expression softened and he smiled. "You're not mad?"

You shook your head. "No. I was sad at first because I thought you'd hate me too. Just like how he hates me. But after thinking about it, I realised that you probably wouldn't."

He nodded gently and you closed your eyes, feeling disappointment seep through your lungs.

"You were right. About them I mean. We got into a fight. I think he hates me. He probably didn't care about me to begin with but I actually believed that he did." You sighed, feeling yourself sink further into your seat. "I just wanted to save him. Save us all."

Shalnark placed his hand on your shoulder and looked into your eyes.

"You don't have to worry about anything anymore. I'll make sure to take care of you."

You hugged his arm tightly, burying your face into his hand.

"Thank you."

You looked at your lap and saw the blue cover of Kurapika’s clothes, you remembered him telling you about it. It was a traditional Kurta cloth that he had saved from his childhood. It was important to him and he let you wear it. That was before he attacked you and you left. They probably hate you by now. You looked longingly into the flame of the fireplace, soft music playing from the radio. Fire consumes and eats everything it touches, never considering its worth, yet it's always so beautiful. The tired blonde behind you grabbed your hand, wrapping it tightly in his own. You listened to his silent request, tossing the cloak in the flame and watching the past burn. It was for the better. He smiled at you, tilting your head and placing a kiss on your lips. He stood and gave you his hand, helping you to stand with him. He pulled you into his chest, swaying gently to the music. You closed your eyes, smiling weakly and resting your head on his shoulder. He sang softly, humming along with the melody. You swayed with him, finally letting your body relax. Puppeteer's hands always make the most beautiful marionettes dance.

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⏰ Dernière mise à jour : Feb 18, 2023 ⏰

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