Alchemised

by SenLinYu

She looked up at him. “You’re a monster.” He raised an eyebrow. “Noticed that, have you?”

“You know,” Ferron said, jolting her from her thoughts, “when I heard it was you I’d be getting, I was looking forward to breaking you.” He shook his head. “But I don’t think it’s possible to exceed what you’ve done to yourself.”

I’ve been willing to overlook your indecent behaviour and petty interferences, but do remember, aside from being somewhat decorative, you are useless to me. If you ever go near her again, or speak to her, or so much as set foot in this wing again, I will kill you, and I will do it slowly, perhaps over the course of an evening or two. That isn’t a threat. It’s a promise. Now get out of my sight.”

“Oh, Marino.” His thumb trailed along her neck, following the scar below her jaw. “If I’d known what pain you’d cause me, I never would have taken you.” He sighed, and she could smell the liquor on his breath as his head dipped closer. She had no idea what he meant, if she was supposed to apologise. “But at this point I suppose I deserve to burn. I wonder if you’ll burn, too.”

He wasn’t kind; he simply wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t as monstrous as he could be. And for Helena’s fracturing mind, an absence of cruelty was sufficient solace. For her starved heart, it was enough.

Her father used to massage her hands like that, even before Paladia. Every night. An alchemist’s hands were like a surgeon’s, he’d said, they had to be taken care of.

LIKE HE DID W HER AT THE BEGINNING IM DYINGGGGGG

“You’re like a rose in a graveyard,” he said, and his lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I wonder what you could have turned into without the war.”

“You could be a healer,” she finally said as he removed the block on her nerves. She flexed her hand, opening and closing. It was still sore, and fragile as though hairline-fractured. “You have a natural talent for it.” “That’s one of the most ironic things anyone has ever said to me,” he said quietly.

OH MY GODDDDDD ITS ALL COMING TOGETHER THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT

“You are not replaceable,” he said, his hands trembling against her shoulders. “You are not required to make your death convenient. You are allowed to be important to people. The reason I’m here—the reason I’m doing any of this—is to keep you alive. To keep you safe. That was the deal.”

“I think I’ve nearly memorised you,” she said. “Especially your eyes. I think I learned to read them first.” The corner of his mouth twitched, and he caught her hand, capturing it against his chest. “I memorised yours, too,” he said after a moment, and then sighed, looking away. “I should have known—the moment I looked into your eyes, I should have known I would never win against you.”

His hands slid up around her throat, warm and possessive, thumb covering the scar below her jaw as he kissed between her eyes. “You’re a far better person than I am. This world doesn’t deserve you at all.”

“Call me, and I will come.”

She was almost asleep when she heard the faint whisper of his voice. “I’m going to take care of you. I swear, I’m always going to take care of you.”