Someday You Will Be Loved

freeProphe

Luxa decides, as she's sitting catatonic from Henry's betrayal, that there really is no point of love and trust if it only ends in pain. She has never really cared about many people –her parents, her late uncle, her aunt and uncle of the Fount, Nerissa, Henry, her grandparents, Aurora- and eventually where did caring lead? Her parents had been brutally murdered by a vicious pack of gnawers, her uncle had gone mad, her grandfather was a fool and her grandmother was too hardened and cruel, and Henry. . . Henry had done the unthinkable. He had not just betrayed her confidences, had not just betrayed her. He had betrayed what they both stood for, their entire party, their city –their home.

Love was. . . too complicated, too greedy. It took and took, without ever truly giving anything in return –it merely left you reeling from hurt and confusion, because you had been open and happy and happiness never lasted. You can go on for days, months, years, even, but sooner or later, you would unhappy. Life was just a continuous fluctuation from happiness to depression, and more than likely darkness would dominate, conquer, destroy. You could trick yourself into thinking, "Yes, this is it! Life is perfect, life is perfect, do you see how perfect life is? Do you see that I am happy!" but it was all a lie. Perfection at its finest, if you could ever believe you were really prosperous.

If she never put her trust, respect, love in another person's hands, then she would never have her heart broken. She would be cold and numb and spiteful, and she would never lead a blissful life –but she would never, never be disappointed in anyone ever again. She could not let herself become attached.

And even as she breaks down in her grandfather's arms, she chants her new mantra: "I do not love you. I cannot love you. If I love you, I will break."

-.-.-

She does not love Gregor.

She knows it is cruel to lie to him, because he is such a good person –kind, always so kind, and caring, and fierce, and angry. But she cares about him more than she ever wanted to –she cares about this stubborn Overlander, who has caused her more problems than anything –and she does not want to see him hurt. She does not want him to understand how terribly lonely it is to care about someone, how much it hurts to have your heart broken, not after everything he has been through.

She knows that she is a terrible person –she is not a fool, after all. She knows that pretending to care more than she really does is a horrible, horrible thing. Letting her friend, god, her friend, think that there is love between them when she is really crossing her fingers behind her back. . . but she cannot explain to Gregor that he means everything to her, but that she refuses to love him because she is afraid of being broken, rebuilt, torn asunder, stitched back together with a trembling hand, dropped beneath the waves then caught on a hook and being tossed to the deck of a boat, thrown back to the dark dark dungeon screaming, "I never should have trusted you!", kissing his pink lips and thinking pleasepleasepleasedon'tloveme-

"I love you," he says.

She smiles, sweet and guilty and beautiful, and replies, "I love you too."

So yup. That's the end of. . . whatever that was supposed to be. This was actually going to be like, "On those who Luxa has ever loved," and then it ended up being. . . well, this. My Gregor/Luxa gets stranger and stranger every time I write it. Maybe listening to a weird mix of Death Cab for Cutie, the Beatles, and Kesha was a bad plan. Eh, w/e.

Oh, so I like don't proofread anything, so if there is weirdness it's because I'm lazy.

-Prophe bb ;)