☆Deathbringer☆

I'm so scared," she whispers.

I give her a smile. "It's supposed to be scary. Your every step has to be so careful, and they're so daunting. But look at Tsunami and Riptide- they're together and that's all that matters. In the end, it's about trust. So you do the best you can hoping they grow to know it."

"You sound like you've been into a lot of relationships." Yeah, I have, thanks to you, who I apparently can't forget no matter how hard I try.

"But thanks, Deathbringer."

Her hair. Her sun-kissed blonde hair and that sparkling green eyes. I am so daunted by them, so enchanted, that I feel my hand gently flying out to touch their beauty, something I cannot ever hold in my arms. But in that moment, there is just Glory. Not the daughter of the dead man, or the girl that I can't forget. Just Glory. And she's beautiful, and the sun is beautiful, and they are there shining more than anything else in the world without even having a clue.

I have to hide everything with a joke, like I always do.

"I have. I mean, who can resist such a gentleman?"

Perhaps I can't quite control my hands, though, because they reach out and tuck a loose lock of golden hair behind her ear. "See?"

Bang.

I quickly jolt away, and for some reason I see the man in her beautiful emerald eyes, the man with blood spurting out of his head, with his car setting on fire. Smoke everywhere, and that is the man that created who Glory was, and his blood, the same blood that I saw run onto the seat of his car, run through her veins.

The touch is electric. I don't know how else to describe it. It is electric and as hot and horrible as the sun, punishing me, laughing at my thoughts, and yet luring me in at the same time.

She grins. "Sir, you are no gentleman," she says, her eyebrows raised to imitate Scarlett O'Hara. God, I love her.

And then she does an unbelievable thing- she reaches out and pushes my bangs to the side. It is so sudden that I feel my lip tilting, my eyes on hers, on the eyes of the man's, no, Glory's-

"An apt observation," I reply, stroking my imaginary mustache. I try to laugh it off, but it doesn't work. "And you, Miss, are no lady."

Only if I could tell you.

I can imagine it, the look on her face when I tell her. The look of horror and disgust. Maybe she would even hit me, and perhaps she would even cry in despair. Do I want to see this girl in such pain? The pain of losing everything?

Maybe it is the sun, or her golden hair, or maybe the smile that blocks out the memories for a little moment. The eyes that make me forget who I am, and who she is, and what I had done to her. What I am hiding from her.

Maybe my look tells her everything.

Suddenly, she is whispering. There is a different look in her eyes, something so passionate, so fiery, that it is almost too scary to look at. It is barely a whisper.

"I like you."

The three little words that make me dizzy, make me feel the warmth of the sun and the fire in her eyes, in her blood that runs through her veins.

I love you and I'm scared you would hate me. Selfish, I know.

"I like you, Deathbringer."

Should I tell you? You're too good to be in my arms. You shouldn't like me. I shouldn't love you. If only- if only you knew what I did to your family-

"Do you- like me?"

Goddammit, how could I lie? I'm pretty sure I have the Look in my face, the Look I usually give to girls that like me. I can't help it most of the time- it brings back memories, of the women and what they whispered in my ear as they did...as they took away everything...

But not Glory, never Glory. I am giving the Look at myself, because I remind myself of those women, of the people that lied and used and manipulated. I hate it, I want her, I want her and I can't have her and maybe I should just tell- tell her everything-

"Glory, I-"

Tsunami's face comes into the view, a little blush on her cheeks, Riptide's arm around her shoulders.

That brings my senses back.
...

The dream again. Over and over. Torturing me, reminding me that I can never have her.

☆

"It's over for today," he says as we all lay on the gym floor, struggling for breath. "You may all go home now."

The students start to leave, and I'm packing up my stuff as quickly as possible when he sneaks up to me. I instinctively look at him, ready to block, when he raises his hand slightly. He rests his right hand on my shoulder. "Great reflexes. Where did you learn?"

Ha, ha. Very funny, you little piece of shit.

I swear I want to punch that bastard in the face someday. He's my uncle- brother of Quickstrike- but he hates me. Well, he hates everyone, but he especially hates me. I, of course, hate him in return. Who can't? He just has that sort of a HATE ME PLEASE vibe.

I shrug his hand off and go on packing very fast. He kind of lures over me. Everyone's going out. Crap.

"You. Death- guy. Come here for a second. Help me clean up."

Death guy, huh? Nevermind, let's just kill him and get over with it.

I can't keep the hostility out of my voice. "What the hell do you want?"

He gives me one of his hateful grins, his white teeth shining brightly. His voice rumbles. At least that part is the same. "Woah, is that a way to address your teacher, boy?"

"I'm tired, Mr. Teacher, and I want to go home. Also, my mom will beat me up if she finds out I talked to you. So, if you will excuse me."

Big hands grip my arm, squeezing it. Now this is more like freaking Morrowseer. "Don't leave when I'm talking to you. Is your mother doing alright?"

"Yeah, like you'd want to know. Why, do you need money? Are you homeless or something?" What would be more painful, stabbing him with a pencil or simply throwing a punch? I decide pencil, but sadly I don't have one at the moment. So I just watch.

Morrowseer's black eyes are looking deeply into mine, and I hate it. It makes my skin crawl. Like two cockroaches getting ready to fly around me. "I am, actually. I want to move in."

"Yeah, no. Bye bye."

That man. Won't. Let. Me. Go.

I quickly turn back and raise my arm to punch him, but he easily blocks it, grinning lazily. "Your uncle needs help, and you immediately react with violence? Some bad parenting here. I might even ask to have a counseling with your mother for your behavior."

"Do you have any money?" I'm sighing. I'm too tired to even care. "We're kind of broke right now. Do you even have a proper license for this job?"

"Are you suggesting my work here is illegal?" He grins. Well, sorry to point it out, but your existence should kind of be illegal. "I'll help your mother pay for stuff around the house, I just want to live in her apartment for a while. Does that sound good to you?"

"My mom is going to beat me up if she knows. Mister Morrowseer? Come to or house and talk to your sister yourself instead of threatening one of your students by a hand choke."

"I'll do that, when is she free? Give me her phone number."

Now he's wanting to take her freaking free time and ALSO HER PHONE NUMBER. "God, I don't know. Weekends? And no, I'm not giving you her freaking phone number. Do you even know our address?"

He doesn't reply. That little creep. "Expect me to go there this Saturday. Anyway, how are you? It's been a while. You grew- taller."

Okay, this is disgusting. "Just tell me what you want and stop with all the formality, it's sickening. Like we're in terms of asking each other how we are," I spit out truthfully, jerking my arm away. "Also, I really have to go."

"Calm down, kid." Morrowseer looks at me closely. "Just one more question. Kids were telling me about- one of your friends. Possibly your girlfriend. How is that girlfriend of yours? The one with leukemia?"

Silence.

Morrowseer. He messes up everything.

"Why?" One word, and my voice is filled of venom. "Why do you want to know1 about her? How do you know her?"

Morrowseer looks a little taken back, but he slaps my shoulder. A little harder than he should. "Why are you grimacing? Everyone says you're her girlfriend or something, so I was just trying to trike a normal conversation. It's not like- we are strangers." That dark, threatening word. Strangers. I wish we were.

"I'm going to go." I give him a bad sign with one of my fingers, and soon I'm reaching for the doors. That's when Morrowseer shouts.

"DEATHBRINGER!"

I have never heard him shout until then- and we have known for a few years at least. And me name, too. How strange. There's even a change in his voice.

Desperation. It's clearly in it. Morrowseer's running after me, taking my wrist so tightly, like he's afraid I'm going to go.

What is he playing at?

He comes down to his knees. I can't believe my eyes, but here he is. One hand over his eyes like he's going to cry. Two little words from the big headed monster that I've detested for years.

"Help me."

☆