I don't own Huntik, but one of the character is mine.
Yeah, I think that Zhalia had fallen in love before Dante.
I'm sorry for mistakes but I don't know English good.
There will be a lot of my fanfictions with pairing Zhalia/Dan(te).
I lie. Lie to everyone. I don't know for what. Lies was always in me. It was just one word. It was scary, strange and unpleasant.
The lies.
And it hurts, but he can't squirm. And it vile, but he can't hate. He forgave me but he can't love me again. I don't need him. Because it's my decision.
It appeared suddenly after a battle against Blood Spiral. I again began to lie Sophie, Lok, Dante, Charit, to everybody. I again became weak. I can't be happy. I fell down as a sinner.
As a killer.
They embraced me, forgave me, believed me, and I lied. I lied to spite them, more and more. I was entangling in my lies, inventing new, disturbing the existing facts and fictional. It returned again. It won't let me go. Never.
You were against the lies. You forgave me. What for? I can't be... good.
Forgive me.
I must lie. I must lost my friends. It is strange, isn't it? But this is my decision. My life.
"If you don't say me the truth, and I will understand it... I won't trust you anymore. Do you anderstand it?" said he with a sweet voice.
"Yeah"
The first time I was scared.
I'm tired. I'm tired living not my life, tired breathing air that not should been, tired seeing faces I don't like, tired living with someone I don't love. But... But who I do love?
They all thought that I love Dante. And I thought so. But when I saw a ghost, haunting me and guarding of the everything.
Then I remembered all. I remembered two years of happiness, five years of suffering, a couple of months of misconceptions... I remembered all. My memory held all the images. They were unpleasant, stabbing, killing, but true.
"This is the life, my dear. You must endure all the attacks of destiny. Do you want to live? Fight for your happiness, fight for the your right to vote, fight for everything. Do you understand it? Don't cry, I'm with you, I'm here. It is the life, you can't change anything. But you can change me." I caressed his black hair while he is telling this phrase.
I'm living. I'm looking for you smell, in each of Dante's embrace yours, in his every sound your intonation. I breathe for you, I think for you, decide for you, but love him... And you.
"You'll never be alone. Do you remember what I did tell you? Fight for everything. My death isn't a reason you to die. You will live, you will love. Do you understand? I love you." These words he said to me before his death.
The word "understand" has always been in your monologue. I really understood your phrases. And lived happily. I loved you, this world, Claus, Organization. The world loved me and I loved the world. He seemed happy to me before one evening...
The nineteenth of August, 2004.
The nineteenth of August, I lost hope. The nineteenth of August, I hate the smell of bitter mint. The nineteenth of August, last exactly six months since you became a twenty-three. The nineteenth of August, Claus betrayed me.
The nineteenth of August, you said goodbye to me last time.
I was crying at your funeral. Burying my face in black marble in your coffin, I lay there for two hours, whispering a few words: "I don't believe, don't believe it!". There were a lot of tears. The pain was all over my body. And you smiled to me from your grave, you was alive, fun, forever frozen in this grave. It was your last photo taken two hours before your death.
I said everybody that you died in a car crash. You crashed into a tree. It was rained, the car skidded. I said that you was going to your relatives. Everybody trusted me. Dumb people.
Your relatives were killed in the two years before that.
I'm living, breathing, "loving" and lying to everybody again. Because there is no strength to endure, because everytime something stands in my throat. Because everytime I leave Dante's room and cry alone. Because I'm afraid.
It is only one good thing in my life. So little, almost imperceptible, but important. It supported me these five years. It showed me that I love not Dante.
You're not in this world, it's true. But here I am sarcastic and rude. You don't live but I save you inside myself. I became you, intertwined with everything that surrounds you. You had seen the real Zhalia, who can laugh, smile and love. Everybody thinks that I am introvert, melancholic, proud, rude, merciless and cruel. And this mask so comfortable. Because what's inside of me it's you. And everything else is a lie.
I still hear your voice. I still feel your smell of a bitter mint. Your voice still support me. Because death didn't took me away from you. But I don't care for it. I'll be with you.
A syringe, wallowing on the floor near me, confirms it.
Forgive me.