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For the reckless souls who dare to love and be loved
“Tell me, darling, do you think of me often?” His voice is a murmur, as if his lips were pressed against my ear. I shiver, knowing exactly what that feels like. If he knows I’m here then why hasn’t he— “Do I haunt your dreams, plague your thoughts, like you do mine?”
“It’s a good thing you’re not here,” he says softly, a tone I never thought I’d hear from him again. “Because I still haven’t found my courage.”
I used to welcome the idea of drowning in those blue eyes of hers. But now, seeing the disdain she stares me down with, I realize that drowning alone wasn’t what I craved, but sinking together.
If she is Shadow, then I am Flame. This girl is the very thing I can’t seem to escape—can’t seem to go anywhere without the remnants of her following. Where I am, she is. Whether it’s in the flesh or in the fragments of my mind. And where there is a flame, there is always a shadow. She is my inevitable.
“You promised to be my undoing,” I murmur, lowering my head close enough to hear her sharp intake of breath. “So, prove it.” Her face angles up toward mine, our noses brushing. She never lowers her dagger, and the point of her blade still draws blood from my throat. “Prove it,” I repeat, voice quiet. “Hate me enough to make me want you.” I cup her jaw, feeling her eyes burning into mine. “Ruin me.” Our mouths crash together.
I’m powerless to stop him from ripping the scarf from my head.
Yet, I can’t help but think that in another life, another time, another chance to choose each other—I would be in that bed beside her.
She looks at me, shocked. And then she smiles, bright and big like the night sky hanging above us. I fear she could rival the stars.
“Aye, Princess!” My heart leaps at the sound of his voice. I’ve never been so happy to hear that ridiculous nickname.
His eyes are on the sky, watching the darkness hint at the promise of pink skies.
“No”—his fingers trail up my neck to trace my jaw—“the mistake was tasting you now that you likely won’t let me do it again.”
Plagues help me.
“You’re not just a mission to me. You’re not just another enemy for me to find. You’re something even more terrifying.” Her voice is little more than a whisper. “And what is that?” “A need.” We stare at each other, both surprised by the words that pushed their way past my lips. Sunlight is streaming through her hair, making her glow like something far too heavenly for me. “I thought you had found your courage,” she says softly. I smile slightly. “Maybe I’m fine with being a fool. So long as it’s for you.”
Tears tumble down my cheeks. I cry for my past, for the little girl who held her father’s hand until it grew cold. For the little girl who struggled to survive in a kingdom that hated her. I cry for Adena—my sun in the darkness I was drifting toward. I can still feel her bloody body in my arms, see her broken fingers bound behind her back. I cry because death is undeserving of her. But she deserves my mourning, my every tear held back. I cry for every time I felt as though I shouldn’t. For every time I felt as though it made me weak.
The setting sun drips golden rays across her face, blue eyes burning bright against the vibrant red of each poppy. It’s hard to believe that something so beautiful would willingly stare at the likes of me.
“I think I would fall on my sword if it meant you mourned me,”
“You asked me what my favorite color was once. I’d never even pondered the answer to that question before you. And yet, I realized in that moment that it was blue.” He bends to brush a kiss to my temple, a murmur against my skin. “It is your eyes.”
“Tell me you hate me, and I’ll still count every heartbeat, every freckle, every shiver of your body, if only you say it with a smile.” He backs away, freeing my face from his hands. “I may be a monster, but if you cut me, I’ll bleed. And if you break my heart, Pae, you’ll break me. So, if even a sliver of your soul longs for mine, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to deserve it.”
“Maybe you really are a poet,” I whisper. He smiles softly. “Or just a fool for you.”
“Oh, but you are my undoing. My deliverance. My downfall disguised as a deity.” Another slow step. “You are my ruin.” I’m dazed, unable to do anything but let a smile tug at my lips. “Call us even. Call me crazy. I don’t care. Just…” His eyes are pleading, brimming with emotion. “Just call me yours.”
With each kiss, he captures the three words I’m too scared to say. I hope he can taste them on the tip of my tongue, read them on the curve of my lips. Because uttering the words feels like a death sentence. Every person I’ve ever loved has left me.
Because wherever I love, people die. And I’d rather love him silently than mourn him loudly.
