Satiric Smiles
Another one shot that is a wee bit twisted- I hope you enjoy! Please R&R!
Her silhouette in the twilight was an eerie sight. Normally, the visage she portrayed was the definition of picturesque, but the monstrosity that revealed itself in the night's shadows was tragic. The glittering snow traced her petite footsteps, as she glowered at the stone before her.
"Such a curiosity that you died now, Inuyasha," thin lips spoke as she sighed a gust of chilly whispers through the air. It had been merely two months since her dear fiancé had passed. Never once had Inuyasha appeared ill, or even the slightest faint.
To the collection of condolences she had received, it seemed he was extremely well liked, so one might ask for the cause of such a young gentleman's death. A suicide, maybe?
The woman's pale cheeks finally retreated to the breezy night when they reddened in color.
"To my beloved Inuyasha," she spoke aloud, "I hope you rot in the deepest, darkest pits of hell." A satiric smile stretched across those same thin lips that had earlier spoken such bittersweet whispers of sorrow.
Eyes hardening, the young woman turned from the grave, returning to her awaiting car on the street side.
As she returned to her cozy home in London, emotion after emotion swept across her cloaked eyes. Why her, she wondered. Why now, after all of this time together, did he leave her?
Drops of hatred washed down her cheeks as she internally screamed. She had never thought her Inuyasha would do something so low, so selfish. Everything had been quite fine, in her opinion.
They had been introduced to one another just two years ago because their parents had contemplated an arranged marriage. At first, the idea had seemed cruel to the two youth, but after a lengthy discovery of each other's personas, it was easily conceded to.
The marriage was supposed to have take place last week, one week after he left. But that conceited man had left her, his presence imaginary, and love broken.
A smiling Inuyasha popped into her brain, and she could hear his baritone voice chastising her tears. "You would tell me to keep my chin up, wouldn't you darling? To not let myself be beat down by the loss.
I know what you would say. You'd tell me you'd always love me…but you still left me anyway." Red streaked down her round face, having been abused by her now hysterical sobs.
Sitting alone at her picture window, she mulled over her last minute decisions. Would he have seen the errors in his ways? Most likely not, but she would stay beside her own choices, keep in check with her guilt.
After all, there was no other way; she certainly wouldn't be expected to commit to such an egotistical male. It had only taken one precise shot to his skull. Close range, right into his mouth with his hand gun. His lover had already left, and his dear fiancé was too distraught and fanatical to confront him verbally.
No, her status and pride could never handle forgiving the man she loved for something so corrupt, so sinful. Having a lover this close to her wedding date wouldn't do, and she was bound determined to keep herself from looking a fool.
Not a soul had considered his grieving love, whom had seemed so surprised and heart broken upon finding the blood soaked bedding and her dear Inuyasha with a gushing hole in his head.
The control she took was methodical, never once hesitating when she pulled the trigger, called the police, or sobbed to his parents. It wasn't guilt over her sin that corrupted her spirit now; it was pain over the heart-ache of being betrayed.
Never once had it crossed her mind that her actions were frightfully brutal and pitiless. In fact, she was so focused on his deception; she didn't believe God would have a problem forgiving her; didn't even wonder if she needed forgiving.
"Dearly beloved Inuyasha," she smiled sweetly now, "you knew better than to do that, didn't you? I told you that I was the only one for you."
She gently caressed his framed picture in her hand as he permanently smiled up at her.
He would forever be in her grasp. For all eternity Inuyasha would be hers to love, and everyone would assume the exact same.
Her mind would remain an empty carcass of astringent thoughts of how egocentric her fiancé had been, and none would be the wiser of her love's murder.