summary: perhaps there was a thin line between love and hate

notes: I’m getting back into writing and wrote this so enjoy lol

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She felt her heart break across a battlefield full of enemies–both dying and alive. She felt her heart split open and her soul scream as she felt the blade slice through flesh that wasn’t her own. She felt the invisible hands wrap around her throat and her chest squeeze as everything shut down around her.

All she saw was him.

Funny how time has a way of reminding you that no matter how much you hate someone, spend some time with them and it won’t matter. You will feel the fear of losing them whether you enjoy their company or not.

Or so she told herself.

Her mind raced a million miles a second as she watched the man she despised sink to his knees, his own blade sticking out of his sternum. The handle stuck out of his chest, the snake carved there with its mouth open in an attack, facing him.

Such a shitty place to get stabbed.

Her mind shut off from everything happening around. The screaming became muffled as she ripped her swords from her own enemy’s stomach and began sprinting towards him.

Her long raven braid flew behind her as she pumped her legs. She had never run towards something so fast. She watched as the enemy cocked his head to the side, mouth moving. Mockingly. She didn’t know what he was saying, but she watched the man she swore she hated smile. Blood stained his teeth.

Then he did the last thing she expected. Within a few seconds he wrapped his hand around that snake engraved handle, ripped it out of his chest, and sank it underneath the chin of the enemy, the pointed end sticking out the top of his head.

She stopped dead in her tracks, jaw slackened in surprise, eyes wide. He turned to her, his own mouth open, his chest moving rapidly. He met her eyes, his lids lowered over his brown eyes.

Then he collapsed.

She snapped out of her daze and began sprinting once more, until she was falling beside him. Pulling him over to her, his head resting on her lap. Her hands fumbled, shaking, over his tunic. His breast plate was long lost in the battle.

“Tell me what to do,” her voice quivered, something she hated. “Tell me what to do. I don’t know how to heal. I told you to teach me.”

“I hate to tell you this,” his voice sounded strained, his own bloody hands coming to stop her own. “But, even if you knew you wouldn’t be able to heal this.”

“Shut up,” she snapped, eyes burning. She shook his hands off and gently placed his head on the ground. She scooted her body until she was leaning over his chest. “You’re immortal. You’re going to be fine, if you just tell me what to do!”

She placed both of her hands over the wound, trying to will the skin to put itself back together. Not even thinking about the mess on the inside of his body.

“Stop,” he whispered, his hand coming towards her face. “Stop. I’ve lived long enough to know when it’s time.”

His hand cupped her face, his blood smearing across her face. On any other day she would’ve screamed at him for even looking at her. But today she stared at him, tears cascading down her face.

“What are you crying for? You look ridiculous,” he teased. “You’re a soldier. Stop with my baby shit.”

She choked on a sob, her chest softly heaving, “Please, don’t do this.”

His eyes closed, “Didn’t you ask me to go die in a ditch that was set on fire, yesterday?”

This time she couldn’t contain the sob that took control of her. She felt his hand move from her cheek into the back of her head. He gripped her hair and began tugging her towards himself.

“Come here,” his voice was getting more and more quiet. He guided her to his chest and she pressed her forehead into his neck.

“My greatest regret will always be that I never told you that you were the great gift those forsaken gods gave me. If all this suffering was for something, it was for you.”

She sobbed harder into his neck, her hand cupping the side of his head, “I’m sorry. I take it all back. Please, don’t do this.”

“Don’t apologize, it's unbecoming,” he admonished. “Do you hear me? Don’t ever apologize. No matter what, don’t ever apologize to those that made you feel small.”

“You don’t make me feel small,” she whispered, nuzzling her forehead further into his neck. “You made me feel bigger than myself, and that scared me more than anything else.”

“You are more powerful than you think. You can do more than you think,” he was speaking faster now, even though he was bleeding out. “You need to remember, little soldier. You need to remember.”

She lifted her head off his chest to look him in the eyes, “Remember what?”

His eyes closed and he exhaled, “Your power.”

in the stillness