By Priya-chan
Disclaimer: I don't own Slayers. (muffled thunk from closet) I'm just borrowing Xellos.
He thinks I am blind to his feelings. He hates us, me especially. But I accept him as he is. After all, we are his mission. Our children are just a job benefit. You'll present them to your master when they are old enough. He thinks I don't know. I know more than he thinks, more than I show. It's my little secret.
You keep up your pretense of caring and I catch myself wishing I could be as good an actor as you. But no, my feelings are genuine. Is this what they meant when they said love is painful? Unrequited love? I watch our friends when they visit and I break apart inside. Why can't we be like them? Why did I love you? So many questions and no answers.
You pretend to care and I pretend to believe you. Though sometimes I think you really do care. You think I don't see you, but I do. I always see you, Xellos. I look around our house and I see your touches in the décor, I see you in our children, I see you in my mind's eye. And you always appear in my dreams. A genuine smile graces your lips, your eyes are open and alight with joy, Val hangs from your neck, the twins are attached to your legs, and your arms are open for me. Delusional aren't I?
I see you watch the children with pride etched in every line of your face, I catch you softly smiling when I do everyday chores, I feel your possessiveness when I'm approached by other men at market. If that is hate then I would gladly sacrifice my love and hate you instead. I watch you put our children to bed and tuck them in. You're so gentle with them. You are the perfect father. One would never guess you were a mazoku in human form. I walk to your side and tenderly brush Val's hair out of his face. You're the father he never had. I feel your arm slide around my waist and pull me to your side as we watch them sleep. I'm allowed to pretend, aren't I? Your grip tightens and my eyes are drawn to your face. You gaze down at me quietly, your eyes burning with their own fire, and I think I see devotion. But you hate me.
In bed we curl together, content to just hold each other in our arms. Funny how well we fit. Almost ironically so. If I pretend, I can think that you hold me like something precious. I'd like to think that I hold a soft spot in your heart. Restlessly I get out of bed and move to the balcony of our room. You soon follow and bury your face in my hair at the crook of my neck. Your hands clasp around my waist, drawing me to you once more. You hate me and I could learn to hate you.
I stare at the stars. What is the point of my existence? Where do I stand? My mind is drawn to my children. I am everywhere. I think of unrequited love. I am nowhere. I look into my husband's eyes. I am somewhere.
Go on. You know you want to. Make yourself happy and click that little blue button on the bottom!