#syvari

artsyGogh [AG] began trolling groundedConstellation [GC]

AG: hi GC! i zzaw your comment on one of my tyrantART paintingzz and wanted to thank you! AG: zzo thank you! GC: Oh UM haha youre welcome GC: Wait do you mean the one of the girl with the glasses AG: yezz! GC: Thats an awesome painting GC: I cant believe you did that by hand GC: Like with real paints GC: Ive heard of them but no one can find them anymore AG: oh thatzz becauzze zzomeone thought they might cauzze infertility in trollzz zzo they banned them AG: i make all my own paintzz! GC: Um wow thats a lot of dedication GC: I um actually made that picture my desktop image GC: I hope you dont mind AG: not at all! i take it azz a compliment. B) GC: Its just that GC: Its really pretty GC: Um GC: And the troll girl is also really pretty AG: BO AG: it’zz actually a zzelf portrait… AG: i think i like you already, GC. B) AG: whatzz your name? GC: Ah um GC: Um GC: Syvari GC: Um is my name AG: hahaha you’re zzo funny! my name izz zzoriza. AG: that izz Soriza, zzince my quirk might confuzze you

            I replayed this conversation in my head as I watched her bleed to death in my arms. The one conversation that began everything. It was both the greatest and most terrifying love I could have ever imagined. It was a giddy whirlwind of happiness that I never thought could exist in a place like Alternia. I grew up being taught that I needed to look out for myself, to do whatever I could to survive, even if it meant I lived while someone else died. But when I fell in love with Soriza, suddenly there was someone I’d do anything for, who I would even die for.

            And right then, I wanted to die. As her cobalt blue blood soaked into my clothing, and her eyelids fluttered, and I was panicking and repeating something over and over, I wanted to be in her place, just so she could live. As I trailed my blood stained fingers across her lips and stuttered out hurried I love you’s, I wanted her to be in my place. And he just stood there and watched the entire time.

            After stabbing her with her own arrow, I thought he’d go after me. I couldn’t fight him, and he knew I couldn’t. I was vulnerable. Weak. But he just stood there and watched, as if he got some sort of sick satisfaction from watching me watch my matesprit die. And knowing him and is creepy clown ass, he probably did.

            Riza was gasping, trying to tell me something. I turned my eyes to her as a fresh line of blood trickled from the corner of her lips. I bent my head so I could hear her better. “Run,” she gasped, clutching at the neckline of my shirt. I shook my head because no, I couldn’t, not without her, and I knew I couldn’t carry her. If I wasn’t so weak, if I didn’t have this stupid weak knee, maybe she wouldn’t be dying in the first place. Maybe I could have protected her.

            “I love you…Syvari,” she gasped, her eyes so wide that I could see every bit of her cobalt blue irises. She touched my cheek so lightly I thought I imagined it. I held her face in my palm, the blood from her lips trickling down my arm.

            “I love you,” I sobbed, my eyes clouding so much with moisture that I could hardly see. I blinked it away, feeling a tear slide down my cheek. My eyes were completely clear when I watched as her eyes slid closed, her tensed muscles in her neck slackened, and her head fell limp into my hand.

           Still, he did nothing. That crazy clown freak just stood in the shadows and watched as I bent over her corpse, holding her as tight as I could and sobbing. He watched as the agony tore from me in strangled cries, as I called her name as if it could bring her back.

I pulled back to look at her face. She looked almost peaceful, aside from the blood on her lips and cheek. I touched my forehead to hers and closed my eyes. I kissed her blue smeared lips for the last time.