no way leon! (way)

You had always been afraid of the dark. Of how it swallowed everything whole like a starving wolf. Your mother always told you that Boogeyman didn’t exist, but he didn’t have to. They ask you how it feels to be so brave. It hurts, it hurts. Because you weren’t brave, it was a facade you wore like a prayer. What was a girl to a God? A sacrificial lamb, a beautiful martyr. He, ever so unkind, left you to rot in the dark each time it nipped at your heels like a herding dog. Your girlhood died where the moon’s illuminating stream of light met taunting shadow. Your place in the world was fragile at best and carnivorous at worst. Or perhaps that was your pessimism hanging off your shoulders worn like a cloak. Cynicism you kept locked away deep inside the barren cavity of your chest as if it was the only thing holding you together. Has fear made you a harsh critic? You had always been hungry for the mundane, the average; a sense of normalcy.

You wished to be ruthless like Persephone, but you were much too soft. The Underworld was not your home; you had lost that long ago. Your mother wove kindness into you and your father his tenderness.

But this wasn’t about the way you were enlaced with benignity to the marrow of your bone. It was about the way your thoughts consume you and steal from you. The way the ocean churned and crashed against the rocks below steep cliff sides.  And how you wished you bled ichor when God gutted you open from navel to throat like your intestines ached for breath. The lingering pieces of girlhood clinging to your person for life and finding none. You were the embodiment of tragedy crafted by human hands; a byproduct of what happens when someone takes what doesn’t belong to them. 

Leon was not unlike you. Perhaps that is what attracted you to him in the first place. He was tenderness veiled beneath bruises— oh, how vibrantly black and blue— not even time could heal. Your wounds sung a similar tune, fitting together like a puzzle. The current he pulled you in with was inescapable, but you hardly wanted to call for help from the shore. Especially not when those impeccable blue eyes held your gaze with such intensity. His stare beheld a harsh winter, but summer peeked out from behind dark pupils with all the warmth it could carry. His reputation preceded him.

There was a question constantly hanging off the tip of your tongue. Can I come home to you? It rattled against your teeth with its overwhelming presence. Especially the night Leon’s lips stood a mere inch from yours with his breath fanning over your face. His pupils blown and his eyes staring into yours as if you’d disappear if he blinked. A moment ago he almost lost you to the same God he abhorred with every fiber of his being and now you stood before him with the same gaze he was watching you with. Oh, how he ached. His fingertips itched to run them through your scalp and pull you closer. How could I ever say no to you? He would reply back if you ever so dared to finally ask him. But he merely stepped back and walked away as if he wasn’t about to take you whole. You forgot how to walk after.

 And you always thought he was invincible. Like nothing even divine could touch him because he would walk away with only a scratch. But you were mistaken. The dark tendrils dancing along underneath his skin in place of his veins frightened you; reminded you of his mortality. You had always been afraid of the dark, but what you should have been afraid of was losing him. And it hung heavy in the air throughout your mission. He was all flesh and bone and borrowed time. Leon was human and humans bled.

Now it was your turn to ache. It came to you like second nature, like breathing, like loving him. Would if you could reach your trembling hand into his chest and rip the parasite out from the depths of his ribcage. You’d hold it in your bloodied hand and squeeze until it bursts. But perhaps your anger was misplaced. It merely performed its duty based on instinct and survival with naught a word of influence spoken in its ear. It would not exist without the aid of another locating a host. The true catalyst was just beyond their grasp. This, however, did nothing to alleviate the anguish and resentment. They were already branded in your bones.

Then Leon would give you that look. The one that cushioned your heart like he was cradling it. It would send a flutter of emotions in your chest with the intensity of his stare. Your face would soften, the hardened expression relaxing into exhaustion and worry. The way you looked back at him threatened to crush his guarded exterior. He would reach over, slow like you were a frightened animal, and gently caress your supple cheek with a gloved hand. Then the dam broke. The tears overflowing from grieving eyes, the struggle to contain the oncoming tidal wave. His hand, his glove. His everyday scent was replaced with something deeply earthy, deeply dreadful. Your own hands cup the one holding your cheek with a gentleness you’d seen in small doses, tiny peeks like morning sunlight through curtains. There was no exchange of words and no need to. These hesitant touches you both partook in said more than mere verbalization ever could.

There was always a lingering wish to be more than this. An unspoken pleading that bounced between your longful gazes. But for now you’d settle for the smaller moments shared in times of reprieve.

When he did speak, his tone was unfamiliar. A warmth blossomed in the hollows of her chest.

“I know.” And he did. He always did. Confirming it was just his way of keeping those three words at bay when they threatened to spill from your swollen lips. Leon didn’t want to hear them because he knew if he did he would give in and he wasn’t good enough for you. You shook your head and inhaled a shaky breath. Leon bit the inside of his cheek and leaned forward only to rest his forehead against yours. You couldn’t have him. He wouldn’t let you. No, Leon was war torn and splintering at the edges. He was meant to be swallowed by the sun, meant to be incinerated to mere ashes. His life was not his own.