Read the bottom for the Author's note.
Disclaimer: As per usual with anyone familiar with fanfiction, I do not own Kingdom Hearts nor any of the ensuing characters.
Bent
Chapter 7: Heart
(or Disillusion of the Heart)
The brilliant daze of the sunless room was a little outlandish in his opinion. How could anything be so bright without a legitimate light source? The thought in itself bothered him. He had never cared before, so why should he care now about where the measly light came from?
He was situated on the couch, legs draped over the side, black clothing nonexistent. Instead, he was wearing a checker-sleeved jacket and pants that were even odder. Neither was Organization XIII attire. Were there consequences for not wearing the cloak? He had never thought to ask.
The sound of a sigh as quiet as a mouse drew his attention to the left. Blonde, little Naminé was rocking on her heels, a delicate smile on her face. She was serene, angelic, anticipatory. What was wrong with her?
She watched him for a moment and then her smile widened, white teeth gleamed. She moved, twirling around the room in hapless circles until she circled behind the couch. She was lithe, graceful unlike she had ever been before. The white dress that hung at her knees had flitted around her, a white halo around her waist. Her blonde crown glowed with an inner light, her eyes sparkled with mischief. Maybe something was wrong with him.
"Naminé," he called, but she didn't respond.
Only that eerie smile was her response. She leaned over the couch, elbows bracing her face to admire him.
"Who are you?" he asked, suddenly defensive and ready to summon the—correction: a keyblade, no the keyblade—and kill her before blood was spilled over that grin.
The Naminé seemed pleased with his question and giggled. "I," she said, placing a dramatic hand on her chest, "am your interpretation of Naminé. I am here to pass along a message from the real Naminé, or as real as she can get."
Her laughter sparkled again.
"She would get a kick out of that. The real Naminé, that is. No such thing after all. The real Naminé is her Other." She tilted her head and sighed. "I, for one, would love to be that Other girl. After all, she has Sora."
The Naminé clone shot up abruptly and stiffened. Her visage split and oozed, melting into the Naminé he had come to recognize, dressed in black with an ever-present frown marring her face.
"That's really how you see me?" She scowled and rolled her eyes. "I mean, no one is that ambivalent, that…flaky. I have a brain, I swear, Roxas," she said indignantly, crossing her arms.
Roxas found his voice, albeit it was low and shaky. "You've always been a rare creature, Naminé. No one can deny that."
Her hands flew out pleadingly. "But that?" she implored.
"It's better than this…" He gestured at her pallor form garbed in oil-slick black, a gray pallor starting to seep into her normally sun-bright skin. "—masochistic self-interpretation."
"Trust me, this is the real Naminé, grungy, black and evil." He laughed when she said the last word.
She recovered quickly, "Never mind your deranged fallacies. I didn't come here to idly chat. Times up. I tried to have this happen the easy way. I purposely made my first memory altering on you weak and breakable, so that you could remember, but I guess I underestimated my work. The chains were amazingly resilient to unraveling."
"My first altering? I've had two?" he asked quickly.
"You've just arrived back from… well, wherever you went. We're in the parlor, level five. I'm supposed to be rearranging your memories right now, but I need you to know this." She stopped, voice sinking lower in desperation.
"He's here, Roxas. Sora's here."
Roxas tried to process everything that was going on, but there was too much. He kept coming up short.
"First things first: What are you doing in the parlor? No one ever comes in here. There's no reason to."
Naminé took a deep, steadying breath. "You need to have all your memories in tact for the upcoming battle. I can't save you if you go running off to confront Sora, only to get absorbed. I'm here because…" She paused, eyes becoming heavy, weighted with knowledge that neither teenager should have. She met his eyes, the fierceness in her voice rose. "I'm here because if I die, I just can't leave you helpless with your memories torn. You, more than anyone else, doesn't deserve this."
Her voice settled to a whisper. "Organization XIII doesn't deserve you."
"That's why?"
Naminé took the two simple words into consideration, the constriction in her heart acting as a bridge to other buried emotions.
"You give me hope, Roxas. I think…I think that if you are worth saving, that maybe, just maybe, someone somewhere thinks that I'm worth saving. I want to believe that, Roxas. Really, I do. And maybe I'll survive this and go live somewhere peacefully. Maybe Hollow Bastion. It seems the most familiar." She imagined a dark red head following her.
Her heart stumbled again. Such a stupid thought.
"How are you doing this? I thought that…memory altering was the extent of your powers." Roxas picked at the sleeve of his checkered jacket and wondered if Naminé had subconsciously picked it out for him.
An imitation of an arrogant smile pulled at her lips. "You think that manipulation is all that I can do?" She laughed, the delightful sound that even the Naminé clone had failed to get exactly right. "I'll have you know that I am just as proficient at memory fabrication as well. What you're seeing now is a false memory that I created to replay for you. Ingenious," Naminé said, "I know."
Naminé shook her head. "We're veering off track even if it is to stroke my ego—" A small smile. "—but really you need to hear this. Axel and I have been planning to get you out of the Organization for months."
"Axel?" he interrupted.
"Yes, Axel," she said impatiently and held up a finger to keep him silent. "But for this to not all be in vain, we'll need to escape. Hopefully, it will be with me, but…" she trailed off. Then a mournful smile lit her face. "But you'll know what to do if… I don't make it," she said quickly.
"Gosh, I'm so melodramatic these days." She shook her head again, a wry smile replacing the previous one. "I'm going to show you a place in my mind. When you wake up, this is where I want you to go and wait for Axel. If I happen to show up, great, but if I don't, just get out. Leave."
She knew that Roxas wouldn't leave if the castle was under siege. Another reason that she had wanted to access his memories. She wouldn't tell him that she had laid a nearly unbreakable, desperate impulse in his mind to get to that room as soon as possible. Making him aware of it could cause trouble. Some things were better left unknown.
"By the way, before I forget." Even Roxas smiled here.
It was too easy, he couldn't let the barb go. "The memory witch forget something? That, I would like to see." A small groan emitted from her.
"Now, as I was saying." Her voice grew soft. "I really like that jacket. Don't forget about it, kay?"
Roxas and Naminé stared at each other for a moment or two.
"Don't die," he said, half-jokingly. The other half was heartbreakingly serious. Someone cared about her memory and it nearly broke her apart. Stay strong, she reminded herself.
"I've got Axel," she lied easily. "He'll protect me. And then he'll protect you. Not that you'll need it. There you go, getting me distracted again."
"Now about that room." And she explained everything that he'd need to know, leaving out parts that could involve her gruesome death. Or worse, her absorption.
All the while, Naminé didn't notice that her white dress had once again replaced her black attire.
The dream Sanctuary wasn't of any use to anyone anymore. The plan had to be accelerated to sooner. To now.
Axel needed to get to Naminé, but the castle had gone nuts. As he rounded another corner of Castle Oblivion's endless labyrinth, he recognized the sounds of battle, but—
"Axel, hey. Yeah you. I can smell your stench from anywhere. Burning, brittle—" The voice called from a nearby hallway.
Of course, Zexion. Who else would say, hey! I can smell you. Axel made short work of the lengthy hallway, standing stock still at Zexion's side. A sheen of sweat ran down the bloodhound's forehead. In front of them, heartless were rampaging against each other and every now and then, Axel swore he saw a Nobody in the fray, but strangely he couldn't feel the nobodies, their signature absence.
"I don't sense the nobodies. What's—"
The scowl on Zexion's normally passive face almost startled Axel, but he subdued the feeling immediately.
"That's because the heartless think they are attacking Nobodies. I'm projecting the illusion of Nobodies on each of the heartless. They aren't smart enough to realize they're slaughtering their own brothers."
"And you're casting a cloak on yourself, so that they can't see you. Why don't you just fight them? It would be over in a second."
Zexion gave a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "One: I'm practicing. The Organization has been neglecting my usefulness lately. Two: fighting's too easy. I prefer this cloak and dagger method. It's… much more satisfying."
The hallway suddenly was alight with an inferno. It died down almost immediately and all the heartless were gone.
"New trick?" Zexion said, raising his eyebrow. He smelled the minute amount of fear rising from himself. The display of power was careless and awe-inspiring. "Been practicing, I see."
"Something like that," Axel said, strolling down the hallway now. "Oh, Xigbar called for you earlier. He wants your defense on the rear gate. Something about hiding it behind illusion. Sora's not powerful enough to dispel your illusions yet."
Zexion scowled again at being reduced to gatekeeper. They had no idea the potential he possessed. He had yet to unleash it. Eventually they'd understand and regret their complacency. The thought placated him now.
"Sora is most likely already inside the barracks. His scent is stronger than ever before." Zexion flared his nostrils again. "And he's not alone. The silver-haired one is here also."
"Riku?" The other keyblade wielder? Axel groaned and looked skyward.
"They aren't here together," Zexion added. "The scents come from alternate directions." He grinned like the cat caught with feathers in his mouth. "He must have made it through the rear gate already. Pity."
Axel's jaw was clenched, wire-tight. Zexion's perception never ceased to amaze. He was so…constantly alert.
As Axel started to walk away, he heard Zexion call to him. "And where are you heading off to, Axel? Assigned to the west gate?"
Axel half turned, pausing in his stride. "Oh no, Zexion, it's much better than patrol. I get to play bodyguard."
The smoke at the top of the room had started to build. No light would pierce that dark cloud, brilliant or not. And it was growing darker by the moment. It was the heartless trying to break into her prison and Naminé must have smelled appetizing because they were relentless.
"Marluxia!" She yelled, knowing that in reality her captors were the only ones likely to save her. No one else knew where she was. "Axel!" The clouds grew darker and more fervent with her words. The tenor of her voice masqueraded as bravery.
If the heartless were going to break in, then she wouldn't take it lying down. Practically tripping over herself, she ran to the desk and overturned it. She grabbed hold of leg and braced her own leg against the underside of the table and used torque to try and wrench the leg into breaking. It groaned and Naminé struggled with it for a moment before it snapped, giving way.
She toppled over, righted herself quickly and then backed into the circular wall. She would try to keep everything in front of her, keep her back against the wall, protected against attack. Unless those heartless happened to be the sneaky low-ranked ones that flattened themselves against any surface. Then they would have no trouble getting at her back…
The top of her cell hissed open, pressure from the outside leaking in and a large white door fell down and crushed the couch and buried the podium.
And then her prison was a war ground. The low-ranked heartless crowded her room, accompanied by the soldier heartless. As one drew closer she swung horizontally, clubbing its head to the side and then bringing the leg over her head, she swung down again, collapsing the heartless' head.
She swung again as the other's swarmed her at once and her arms started to ache from the rapid swinging motions as her arms propelled the club back and forth. One slipped past the fray and swiped jagged claws at her side. She screamed and tumbled to the side, holding her wound. Small rivers of blood leaked between her fingers, but she pressed harder into it, staunching it as best she could.
They paused for a moment, scenting the newly spilled blood in the air and then crawled towards her. A black shadow eclipsed the room and then a tall, cloaked figure dropped into the room. A massive cloaked figure. The heartless circled him and then started to stalk slowly around him.
Not Axel, she noticed disappointedly. He might have been impressed by her actually fighting the typecast of damsel.
It was Lexaeus. It took only two swings of his massive tomahawk to clear the room of heartless. Naminé was minutely jealous, but instead stood up from her crouch and thanked him. He nodded, silent as ever and then grabbed Naminé's hand in apparent question. He saw the blood, but just shook his head.
"I'm fine, it just stings. Nothing serious." He took her at her word.
Large hands grabbed Naminé under her ribcage digging into her side scrape and jumped up. She was so proud when she didn't whimper. The disorientation didn't bother Naminé so much as violating the force of gravity did. They landed softly and he set her down, the balls of her feet made a minuscule tapping noise. He didn't make any sound at all. He was huge and inhumanly graceful. What an odd combination.
"This way," he said, putting a hand at her back and gently urging her forward. It was then, that Naminé finally recognized the room that held access to her cell. The parlor. How…irritating.
"No one ever comes in here," Roxas said.
She didn't have time to curse the room before Lexaeus was rushing her out and down the hallway dispatching the minor groups of heartless as he went.
Like a spark, something in her brain switched on and a feeling in her gut began to build, achingly sweet before she recognized it.
Hope. It was something she wasn't familiar with and yet…
This feeling wasn't hers. It was completely alien. It was her Other influencing her, taking over.
"Sora," she whispered. Sora was acting as a catalyst the closer she got. She was remembering things. A foreign beach. The way the waves licked at her calves beckoning her into the ocean. But then the waves grew larger, forcing panic to clench her throat. The waves wanted to swallow her… Her essence. Her memories.
It made her want to cry out, to say it's so unfair. Please stop it, she begged.
And in the next silence, a voice answered hers, tugging on some string that was attached to her.
Kairi, it whispered. So seductive that it blocked out all other sensations and she wasn't running anymore. She was floating… and there he was. The source of her despair. Sora.
Sora, cloaked under the brown halo of hair, spiky and resistant and she, she was Kairi. And the way he smiled at her. Pure saccharine that melted her soul.
The vision of him didn't shatter as she had expected. It looked more like the color had been drained from it and another image was overshadowing it. It was a shadow, who's shadow?
Another voice, nowhere nearly as seductive, but powerful in its own right broke her thoughts. And how easily it melded into her mind. She had no security from it.
Save yourself, Naminé, You're a nobody. Live with it. It held a harsh edge of reality and the tone of truth that she empathized with.
NO! No! No! NO! She was Naminé! Not this other, Kairi. Kairi was pure, she was happy; she was the safety net for Sora and the silver-haired boy. She was home to them. She was hope.
Naminé was destruction, disaster incarnate. She had a purpose and a destiny. And she was perfect the way she was. She was worth saving.
Naminé turned, physically aware of her surroundings once again. The hallway had heated up.
Axel was near.
Lexaeus, startling fast, pushed Naminé behind him and then planted the tomahawk in the ground directly in front of him, burying it a foot deep before he crouched behind it. From both sides, twin flame turrets shot past, burning the surrounding oxygen before dying out.
A soft voice, intoxicated with battle echoed in the hallway. A languid laugh filled the room.
"Sorry about that, thought you were more pesky heartless."
Naminé instantly perked up and leaned around Lexaeus' wide bulk. "Pesky?"
Axel laughed loudly, the torpor of battle slowly slipping into him. He held one chakram in his had, the other was firmly buried in the wall beside them. The tomahawk had deflected it. That had been the large metallic noise.
More heartless appeared behind Axel. He rounded on them, spinning the chakram menacingly in the air, green and blue flames shot from the sharp points and he laughed, delighting in death
Power corrupts, Naminé thought absently, but she had to admit. Power flattered him, suited him well.
The heartless in face of the flaming wheel of impending death scurried off and Axel followed close behind, baying as disappearing from view. Lexaeus had a strange look on his face and glanced at Naminé from the corner of his eye.
"Yes," she agreed. "He's quite mad." The thought made her laugh. The look that Lexaeus fixed her with next said clearly that he thought she was mad.
They followed at a slower pace, gradually making their way through the hallways at a slower, but safer pace. They didn't want to run into Axel again as abruptly. He might really incinerate them.
Well, ashes to ashes…
The room suddenly opened up into a large, blossoming staircase. It reminded her of Beast's castle, but how would she know what it looked like? At the top, more heartless were gathering and Lexaeus stepped forward to rid the room of them, leaving Naminé behind to back between the wall and a large statue.
She heard chaos below her on the ground floor, but wasn't able to see it, crouched against the wall. The tenor of battle cries was a warm, brisk noise. The pleasant sound soothed her in a way no one's voice had ever affected her before. This wasn't her memory, but it didn't matter. She indulged in the peace just the same, her eyes clenched furiously as she fought it simultaneously.
Light flared hotly and suddenly the heartless were fleeing. There were too many, Lexaeus couldn't hold every one back and several slipped past. For once, his stoic demeanor slipped and his eyes widened as he swung his tomahawk, destroying half the heartless that were approaching her, but not nearly enough.
"Run," he said, louder than his voice had ever risen.
But Naminé was frozen, that memory of peace had seized her so tightly that when the panic overrode it, she was already stuck. Surrounded.
A brown-haired figure dressed in black and red with an incandescent sword hovered before her, arms spread wide for balance with one foot tucked beneath him like a bird. He was practically flying, but he froze in motion when their eyes met.
A pull at her heart sent a gasp from Naminé. His mouth was slightly ajar as he landed in a low crouch, keyblade raised in readiness. They stared at each other, an eternity of understanding in one moment. His heart recognizing hers.
The heartless shattered the moment, immediately knowing that he posed far more danger than the small, petite meal of a girl.
He spun, sword sweeping and connecting, easily removing the threat. He did a back-flip as easily as she could breathe, the arc of his sword cutting into a heartless, dispersing its shadow. He knocked another back with the handle to its head and sliced another in half. One by one they all fell and suddenly he was in front of her and Naminé had never felt so terrified in her life.
To value someone else more than you could ever value yourself. Whatever she felt was life- threatening… to want to give yourself over to something like that.
"Kairi," he whispered, reaching forward to brush a hand along her cheek. Blue eyes were buried in sadness, but underneath it, Naminé knew dwelled a hope and a happiness that could never be fully understood.
Naminé flinched at his touch. It was nice, but it wasn't what she wanted. Even though the memories and the impulses of her Other craved nothing more than to launch herself into his arms.
"Naminé," she corrected and the illusion must have slipped away because hurt crossed his face followed by an innocent mistrust before he bounded backwards as flames cut between them. Before she could scream, a hand was around her waist and she was weightless, the air whooshing out of her lungs as she was slung on a hard shoulder. The hallway blurred as she was rushed away. Crimson spikes tickled her jaw. In the distance, she saw Sora reaching for her.
She reached back…
A shock bounced her against the rigid shoulder again, knocking coherency back into her. "What was that about?" he growled. Naminé was breathing heavily and it was hard to hear him. He gave her another jostle and she grunted at the impact.
"I don't know." A low mutter from her befuddled brain.
When Axel had deemed it safe, they stopped and he set her down. Her knees buckled and she slid to the floor, arms outright to brace her. She looked up to meet Axel's hard-set, accusatory gaze. If looks could kill…
"It was Sora…"
"No kidding," he said in exasperation, upper lip curling to reveal teeth. "Do you know any other chosen ones with crazy brown spikes?"
"It was my Other," she tried to explain. "It felt like she was inside me. Like she was me."
"That just means your being weak." Typical Axel. Always having to knock her down a peg, but it was good for her, she reluctantly thought. "You've got to defend yourself. Enough of this weak, boneless babble. If you wanted to, you could resist her. You don't have to respond to her every beck and desire." Was he hinting at one desire in particular?
Naminé wanted to explain it. That glorious and repulsive feeling that had combusted in her chest when she saw Sora.
"Have you ever felt love, Axel?" She asked in a sullen, demure voice. Axel scoffed and crossed his arms, skepticism etched on his face. "Well, I have now. It's not something to be taken lightly. One look and…" She shivered and her eyebrows knit, worry tightened her eyes.
"It took one look and Axel, I was willing to do anything he asked, no matter how terrified I was." Axel watched her closely as she closed her eyes, struggling to say all of this. "I never want to feel that again," she whispered harshly, fists clenching into her sides. " I've been helpless during my entire life—no matter how brief," she added. "And by the strength in her feelings, I was rendered helpless with one look. One look," she echoed.
"Axel, if I could ask one thing of you, no strings attached, would you do it for me?" She said, eyes soft with apprehension.
Axel studied her, and his body language told her he would refuse. He was rigid, eyes severe, mouth tight.
"Depending on what it is," he said, breaking the silence. He leaned against the wall. "But I always expect something in return. So what is it?"
She paused, knowing it was what she wanted and yet so hard to say. "Please, keep me away from Sora. Never ever let me be near him again."
A suddenly comprehending Axel let out a bark of laughter, looking oddly satisfied and out of place. A crooked, mirthful grin made her bite her lip. One hand was cocked on his hip, expecting retribution. "That I will do. You looked pretty pathetic in that trance he got you with."
Now this was something she was used to. "Pathetic?!" She yelled, forgetting herself, then quieting her tone. "Pathetic? You've never even been near your Other. I hope that he's a simpering baby, just like you. And when you meet, you'll be reduced to tears, a sobbing, helpless heap—" and she was just getting started, getting distracted—
When Axel pulled her close suddenly, her heart picked up, frantic palpitations fluttering like mad. And it was nothing like the controlling feel of Sora in her head and heart. That was distant now under this new siege. She was short, tucked against his chest like a missing piece she'd never felt and it haunted her... because it was delusional and sickening and could never. Ever. Be.
Then she realized the reason for his proximity. Heartless. Heartless hopping and bobbing, merry that they had prey to feast upon. Too stupid to notice the largest predator in the room was crimson and fury incarnate.
A harsh breath escaped Naminé and she saw a deranged heartless, four times her size, jaw dripping with frothy spittle, yellow eyes focused on her. She knew that it was imagining her ripped open before it, stomach opened in a red ruin. She was still alive as it feasted on her and ate pieces of her nothing and Nobody body. But being a nobody wouldn't cease the pain.
She trembled, bravery subsiding under something far more primal, a survival instinct. She wrapped a hand in Axel's cloak and the other found its way to his side carefully avoiding the chakram braced against his hip as she burrowed into his chest. He stiffened, a reaction so small, she almost missed it, but she didn't move. Fear delegated that she didn't.
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and taking in the scent of amber. That horrible smell she had hated, but now associated with him. She guessed that it was okay to like and hate the smell, just like she liked and hated him.
A corded arm wrapped around her shoulder delicately and slowly turned her to face the heartless.
Heartless of all shapes. Small shadows that littered the floor in darkness. The soldier heartless surrounded the large guardians, bursting with anxiousness as they crept closer. A barrel-spider edged closer, two legs propped against the wall, the other two braced on the floor as it scuttled forward.
"You should see this," he murmured close to her hair. Was he touching it or was her imagination fracturing under the stress? "Understand everything this means. Watch them burn, Naminé." She felt his burning warmth at her back, one arm slung around her shoulders, protective, yet dismissive. His free hand, gloved, she noticed, reached over her shoulder, using the crook of her neck to stabilize it.
"Burn, baby, burn," he muttered and fire so dazzling bright flared upwards in columns, scorching the ceilings. The heat was nearly unbearable, but the screaming was so much worse.
In the midst of the red-orange mist of heat, blue flame was brightest, slowly warping into white fire, the quintessential flame. The creatures were all on the floor now, running away, only to collapse to the floor, writhing in agony. A cry worked its way from her throat as she watched the shadow's skin blackened and fall off. Her knees started to tremble, almost gave out until Axel squeezed tighter and she focused enough not to fall.
All the while, Axel was silent, serene. That fire was solely and completely him, merely an elemental extension.
When it reached for her, deceptively enticing, she shrunk back against him further. Only because she wanted to touch it so bad. The orange brilliance licked at her again and this time she met it, hand extended and the warmth didn't burn her, only lit her skin in an orange-white flush.
The fire slowly died and when Axel started to pull his hand back, he withdrew Naminé's as well.
She was shaking, she noticed and held so tightly that she hadn't realized that she wasn't standing on her own any more. Her legs had long ago given up, but Axel's arm now at her waist supported her and she resented it. She wished that she had fallen to the floor rather than to have been braced by someone so much stronger than her.
What was left of the bodies was crackling ash and even the embers in that were fading.
"Do you understand?" It was the first time she had ever heard him say something so meaningful and the voice was soft, almost casual.
He was laying himself out before her, something she knew he had never done before. He had never cared what others had seen him as, now she only had to understand.
He was deadly, the ash proved that. He was controlling and full of alluring danger that would suck her in before she realized that she was in over her head, The fire rampaging only moments before attested to that. He wasn't soft, he was anger. He had been created for war. There was no room in his life—his existence—for anything soft. Fire wasn't tamed. Fire certainly didn't settle down. You either succumb to it or you fought it until it was extinguished.
It was selfish and had a severe intelligence hidden beneath passion that no one could touch. It was malevolent and insane in its irreverence of everyone else.
"Do you understand?" He repeated.
It made so much sense. He would kill her before he could ever imagine an inkling of love let alone respect of her.
"Yes," she said in breathless misery. She didn't cry. She was far too brave for that. She leaned back taking one last moment to memorize her illusions. He was solid, weighty, made of hard edges well veiled under the cloak. She hadn't realized how much smaller she was than him until this one moment. She had always compared herself to him in mental aspects, never physical. She felt lost in the black cloak hovering over the edge of her until she stepped away.
She couldn't turn to face him. She didn't want to know what look was on his face for once, to understand what he was feeling. She was too cowardly to face the knowing contempt for her, a pure brilliance he could never touch.
"For my memory," in case I die, "Pretend that I meant something to you, okay?" He didn't say anything, but she didn't want to hear an answer anyway. She'd pretend that he'd said yes and for now, that could be enough.
"Let's go," she said. As she walked forward, the ash made a soft sliding noise under her feet. She dipped two fingers down into the ash and swiped a mark across her chest, two diagonal lines underneath her collarbone.
"A reminder," she announced before he asked an inane question.
"Morbid witch," he said. He was already getting back to normal, such a quick rebound. He touched the soot at his feet as well. "Heartless filth."
"Yes," she said. "I am."
Sorry about the longest wait… Again. I'm thinking two more chapters and all of you can have me out of your hair for as long as you want.
This was the easiest chapter for me to write yet, but I desperately want to know what you've thought of my interpretations. Let me know, people! Share the knowledge.
Anyway. Thanks for the continued support.
Cal