Rise of a Queen

Chapter 50

He kissed the side of my temple, "Stop thinking so much."

Even he would not be able to follow such a command.

"You should eat something." He encouraged, quietly.

My tone was flat, lifeless, "I'm not hungry."

He sighed and it pitted his chest inward, folding me further into him with the movement, "That's what you told me yesterday. And the day before." He was trying so hard to be supportive. I was not reciprocating the effort, but he didn't expect me to, "You need to eat, Sadie."

"I'm fine." I said without looking at him. But his worried stare continued to drill against me and it coaxed words that I repeated, emotionlessly, from muscle memory, "Honestly, I'm okay. Maybe later-"

"Stop telling me that you're okay." Every word in that sentence was spoken under a whisper, a passing breath that rustled through my hair and made my scalp tingle, "Stop lying to me, Sadie. I know you are not okay."

It was a tactic I learned from him, a tactic he hated being on the receiving end of.

Surprisingly enough, I understand Dustin much better now. I understand why he distances himself, and why he always plays the role of protector. Because it is so much less painful to be the one being tortured, all the while knowing that you spared someone you loved.

But what I am currently feeling ... is worse than death. And now I understand why Dustin craved it so badly, why he practically walked himself into the coffin of a waiting tomb. It is easy to face the reaper when you know nothing comes after that scythe takes your head.

But when life suckles at the heart, the damned organ aches and it yearns for the ones we have lost.

At times, I even digress so far as to envy Katrina for having hers so ruthlessly removed. It is wrong and disgusting of me to think that way, but I cannot help it. I, myself, would have cut mine out and offered it for anyone to take if I had known this kind of agony awaited me.

Dustin nudged his head against mine, "Let me help you, Sadie."

Effortlessly he delved deep into my suffering, but beyond my defenses was a wasteland of dying vegetation and populations laid to rest under an enemy's flag. There was no reminiscence of the girl he once fell in love with. She had been beaten and broken too many times.

She is gone and I don't know if I will ever get her back.

"How?" My face flattened against his chest, I listened to his heartbeat. It was calming but it didn't alleviate me like it used to, "How can you help me?"

He thought about it, thoroughly and tirelessly. He kissed my forehead and both sides of my cheeks where newly birthed tears were sketching the contours of my face. His lips then fit perfectly against my own, and I felt him say more than I heard him, "Just talk to me."

I was shaking my head even before he finished, "No. I won't."

"It's okay, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." He held my head still and brought me closer, promising protection, "You can't go on like this, Sadie. It is killing you." His eyes intricately examined mine. His were so deep and endless that I tumbled without a lifeline, and they begged me to be vulnerable, "I'm scared of what will happen to you if you don't let someone in."

He was so gentle and kind. How unlikely it was for a past as dark as Dustin's to produce a man such as him. A man, abused and tortured, but still wearing a righteous halo that hung from the devil horns unfairly forced upon him.

"Talk to me, Sadie." He urged again, "Please."

I licked my lips, they were salty from tears and swollen from crying, "What do I ... say?"