☆Deathbringer☆

"I saw an interesting question from a book." I am walking slowly so Glory can catch up. "You know, like a philosophical question."

Glory's eyes suddenly light up. She reaches out and grips my shirt-- carefully not touching my hand-- motioning me to wait. Her face is red from the exercise, although we haven't walked that much. "What is it?"

When I stop, Glory's hands fall to her sides. "First, you need to answer this." I am staring at her, shouting at myself to not freak out. "Are you going to marry?"

She ponders for a moment, and then nods, a mischievous smile on her face. "Probably. If I live that long, that is."

I ignore the second part of the answer and move on. "Okay." Deep breaths, Deathbringer. "You are in love with your husband. Like, not just love. You would die for him." Pause. "But turns out your husband happened to be the person that killed one of your family members. It was a long time ago, like couple years before. Would you be able to forgive him?"

"That's just a really weird question." Her voice is light and joking, but Glory's eyes, they tell a different story. They are bitter. The eyes of someone who has lost a loved one, the eyes of hatred. It's not staring at me-- the hate is not directed towards me-- but it pierces through me as if they really are. Because, in a way, they should be.

"No." Glory runs her fingers through her hair, her hands slowly curling into fists. She's staring at something distant, and her lips are tipped down in a frown. Anger. She's watching the sky as if it was the one that shot her father. When, in reality, I did. "Never."

Maybe a girl as young as her should go on about forgiveness and mercy. That would be the answer everyone desires to hear.

But not her. Not Glory.

"I'll rip that man to shreds." She smiles, like she can see it happening right front of her eyes. "I assume he doesn't know what it must feel like. Having your loved ones killed. How it breaks families apart."

This girl, this dying girl, is filled with bitterness. There is no space left in her heart for love. There is only room for blood and death and the smiles of a tortured animal.

"I'll break him like he has broken me."

Why, Glory? Why have the gods twisted our destiny so I could meet you?

Sometimes I wish I never had. That this girl with sun-kissed hair never appeared in front of me, showing me something that I shouldn't dare think of. Or that the man I killed hadn't been her father. There are so many possibilities, but here I am, giving her a sad smile. I am staring at the ground because if I look at her now, I'm afraid I'll cry.

Glory, I hate myself. I wish we'd never met. I wish I didn't exist, so you would be happy. I wish I didn't have to feel the guilt of seeing you like this, being reminded that it was I who made you this way.

I want to tell you the truth. Because you deserve to hear it. But I have gotten too close to you, and now I can't do anything without thinking of you every three seconds. And I see how you are starting to look at me, like you love me. Maybe not love. Just seeing me as more than a friend. I don't even know my own feelings. I don't know what love is, even if it is something I feel right now. I just know that my everyday is brightened up by you.

On cool nights I look up at the sky and tell myself that it isn't my fault. Selfish, I know. That it was written on the stars. Like some strange play that we had to participate in to satisfy some heavenly power. Concluding that it was the fault in our stars that made us this way. Like what Shakespeare said.

But Glory. That would be too good to be true. And you would hate that. You like to face things, even if it takes you a long time. Even if you run away for a little while. You always turn back. That's something that makes me different from you. You would say, no, coward. That fault is not in our stars. It's in ourselves.

If I wasn't scared of asking you questions I would ask you one more.

...

Glory.

What have we done to each other?

☆