Despite knowing that she needs to return home, to return to her post, she doesn’t want to leave this moment. She wants to stay curled beside him for the rest of her life, relishing in the feel of his body against her own. But she knows that she cannot stay here forever and reluctantly, she stands with him. She kicks dirt over their fire, snuffing it and readying it for the next couple that finds this spot.
She begins to lead him home, their bodies still touching. It was a perfect moment, the two of them walking side by side. She cannot help but want to feel his touch so close to her own body. She needs his touch like she needs air to breathe. She feels him hang back, his body no longer pressing firmly to her own. She looks behind her, almost ready to ask why he has strayed from her, but then she sees the smile he has and she knows he just wants to watch her. Reluctantly, she silently agrees to give him this moment to watch her walk home beneath the moonlight.
Her attention is turned back to the path ahead of her, unaware of the trap they were walking into. She sighs softly, her thoughts still reliving their evening together. But in a moment, her thoughts are taken from her as a loud explosion rings out. The sound is deafening, the heat searing. Her body is thrown forward, thrust onto the group with a force she can only dream about. And for a moment, she loses consciousness.
When she finally comes to, she coughs at the onslaught of smoke that fills her lungs. She can feel the heat from the burning forest and it seems to rouse her from her unintended sleep. When she finally comes too completely, she looks around for Metaphor. He is not immediately beside her. She stumbles to her feet, her rib broken and a large gash in her hip. She does not feel pain until she tries to walk, to search for her lover.
It doesn’t take long until she sees his limp body. She rushes forward, her leg paining her but she refuses to allow it to hold her back. Her lover is hurt far worse than she is and as she comes upon him, her eyes survey his damage. She knows the damage is far too great to heal and she is angry that her magic cannot be used to save him. But she tries anyway, tries to heal him but finds she’s only healing herself. It angers her that she can be healed and her lover cannot.
Collapsing next to him, she brings his head to rest against her chest. She has seen injuries like this in war, and she knows what is coming. She knows what is coming and she hates herself for it. “Shhhhh…it’s going to be okay.” her words are unsteady and she can feel the emotion in them, but she tries to hide her fear. She was supposed to live out her days with Metaphor. She was supposed to welcome a child with him. Now their happiness was being taken from her and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop it. She was angry, upset, furious that he was being taken from her. But most importantly, she felt guilty. If she had not let him steal that moment to look at her in the moonlight, her lover might still be walking beside her. Because she let him have that moment, he was being taken from her. The gods were so cruel to give her a moment of happiness only to take it away.
She can see the blood pooling even more, covering her own body in his blood. She can feel the heat of it as it soaks into her dark coat. It’s a feeling she hates, but one she cherishes. At least she knows his suffering will end in a very short moment. His body cannot maintain such blood loss for long. And while she waits for him drift off into his forever sleep, she wraps him into a lover’s embrace.
@Metaphor
