Manfred/Zelda; She tries to forget the untold moments. That way, they never existed. She needs to forget the moments left behind that created their story. But they have no story. Not anymore.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, positive."

"It'll hurt."

"I can take it."

She still has the scar. It's sad, because she asked for it, but she never thought she'd regret it.

It reminds her of him. The burn on her wrist. Everyone asks her how she got it and she always tells the same story.

I was making dinner once on the stove. I took the pot off when it was finished, but forgot to turn off the burner. I left for a minute, came back, and slipped on some water on the floor onto the stove.

When was this? Why hadn't it healed?

It will take time to heal.

Because time heals all wounds, right?

Time makes you forget, time makes the bad memories go away, time fixes everything.

Right?

(No, because time makes you forget the moments you wish didn't happen. Time doesn't erase them.)

"We can have everything we want!"

"You can. I'll never be able to leave."

"You underestimate the both of us."

"Maybe because I know all too well."

People ask why she ever left. They don't patronize her, because they understand that she'd want to leave eventually.

(They all do.)

Studies were hard there. This was a wonderful opportunity. People were not the greatest there.

(None of those were a lie.)

She had a roommate who was super sweet, had friends who didn't make her put her life on the line, and there was a really cute guy in one of her classes who always made an effort to take to her. This all felt so normal in comparison to the first seventeen years of her life (especially the last four).

(But those were the best ones. Those were the ones with him.)

"What are you doing?"

"Making you realize that you don't need to stay here!"

"You don't understand!"

"Or maybe I understand perfectly! I understand that you're a coward!"

She left him behind.

She hopes he was in despair when he thinks of her and how she gave him the chance he so badly needed. She hopes he counts his blessings, because he probably has very little now. Of that, she is so sure. She hopes that his soul is suffering greatly for losing his chance.

She hopes he regretted ever letting her go.

She doubts it, though.

"I think my heart's on fire."

"Are you sure you're not sick?"

"I love you."

"I don't believe you, anymore."

She goes back one day.

(She needs to know.)

He's standing there, in front of their tree, and she thinks of the moments when they just fell apart.

He doesn't see her, but she can hear him when he asks, "Why'd you ever leave?"

She runs at this point, because when did they become so broken?

"You want me to do what?" Manfred cried, his voice in utter disbelief. She didn't blame him; it was a kind of crazy idea. But she was sure it'd be worth it.

Zelda held out her arms and repeated her plan.

"I want you to burn my wrists."

"Why?" He asked, still not quite wrapping his mind around the thought of Zelda asking him to burn her.

"Because," she said, "this way, I'll always have a piece of you with me. And if we're ever apart, I can remember that you're with me." She hated how cheesy it sounds, but she couldn't say the rest. She couldn't tell him that it went beyond that; that she needed him there to feel like she wasn't alone. She needed him to feel unafraid of the terrible, terrible world they lived in – otherwise she thought she'd go insane. She couldn't say that she just needed him in general.

He knew anyway. But he still tried to dissuade her.

"Zelda, you know you'll always have a piece of me with you," he reasoned. He didn't say which part, but it's not like he had to. She should've known by then just how much of his heart he'd lost to her.

"But I need something physical, something I can look at," she quipped back, because it's true. She needed to be able to look at something and think 'I'm not alone.'

"I still don't understand, Zelda."

"We have a story, Manfred. No, we are a story. And stories are forever. I need to illustrate ours."

She stood up and closed the gap of the few steps between her and his already-standing figure. She hugged him tight and whispered, "Please."

Manfred hated how broken and vulnerable she sounded. He could never deny her anything and starting now was already hard enough as it was without her persistence.

He sighed, clinging to her tightly. He needed to know that this had been exactly what she wanted.

He looked her dead in the eye and almost inaudibly asked, "Are you sure?"

She stared back, determination filling her eyes. "Yes, positive."

'One more try,' he reasoned. "It'll hurt," he said. It was weak, but she already had her mind set.

"I can take it," she retorted, smirking. She won and she knew it.

Stepping back, Zelda held her arms out again. Taking her right one first, Manfred kissed her wrist before curling his fingers around it.

'Don't do it.'

The deed was done the same time as the thought was. Zelda's breathing was slightly labored from the ache of the burn, as he expected it would. She never took pain well. Her face was twisted in an agony that she didn't want him to catch on to. But her eyes; her eyes held the words 'thank you.'

His eyes told her that one wrist was enough. Manfred left the room.

It may have been half the task, but she had what she came for. Zelda got want she wanted.

She wants that burn gone.

Zelda felt like she was on fire. Fever, maybe? She hoped not. If she was sick, then her point was never going to get across.

She stopped in front of his room, contemplating what she was doing. Was this a good idea?

No. But it was the right thing to do. And that was so much more important.

She sighed and knocked. "Come out. I need to show you something," she called through the door.

Manfred came out, tired and worn from sleep. He looked almost childish, a complete contrast to the constant menacing and almost evil persona he always acted out.

Not for too much longer, though, if things went according to plan.

"Zel? What are you doing here at…" he glanced back somewhere in his room to check the time, "six in the morning? On a Saturday, at that."

She held up her letter.

"I got accepted. Did you?"

He looked surprised at her reason. He was definitely awake now. "I got my letter last night, but I was too tired to open it. I can go check now, if you want."

She nodded and then walked past him into his room, crossing her fingers and grabbing the letter off the desk. Manfred looked amused as he leaned against his open doorframe. "Shouldn't I be the one to open it?"

Zelda tossed the letter at him (without her hands, mind you) and told him, "Then do that."

He didn't take his time, which she was thankful for. She needed to get this done and over with.

Manfred quickly scanned the letter he'd received. He looked up, shocked.

"I got in," he whispered, half-gawking at the words.

Yes. Excellent. Perfect. This is what he wanted. This is what she needed – what they both needed.

"You know, we could leave," Zelda said.

He was still shocked, so Zelda's words made quite an impact on his already hazy mind.

"What?" He blinked, "Why?"

She stared for a second, panicked. 'No. This isn't supposed to happen.'

"I'm going. I want you to come with me," she told him, standing her ground. 'Don't break, stand tall, be proud. Force your point down his throat and make him come.'

"Zelda, you know I can't do that," he said, eyes darkening with regret. He wanted to leave, but he couldn't.

"Why not?" She exploded. He never deserved any of this and he had the chance to get away. But he wasn't taking it. "We can have everything we want!"

'Why won't you leave with me? You shouldn't have to deal with it.'

"You can. I'll never be able to leave," he snapped back at her, hurt by her outburst.

"You underestimate the both of us," she spat bitterly, steadily getting angrier by the second. He thought that he couldn't get out of here. He thought she couldn't get him out of her. He was wrong. 'Control, Zelda. Don't let this break you. Convince him.'

"Maybe because I know all too well," he retorted, obviously livid. Hadn't they had this conversation before? Hadn't she understood that he was stuck here?

"Know what? Know that you can't get out? Why can't you?" She fired out the questions so fast she'd think he'd need a second to process them. But he fired back answers with no hesitation whatsoever.

"Because they're my family! I can't just turn my back on them. This is generations, centuries, older than me, than us. I can't just let them down!"

"You'd be letting me down!" She said, now angry at her desperation. 'No. He was supposed to agree. He was supposed to come with me.'

Manfred stayed silent and she lost it.

She ran to his closet and pulled out a suitcase from there. She dragged it to the bed and ran around the room, grabbing as much as she could and shoving it into the baggage.

"What are you doing?" Manfred called, sounding furious. Zelda wasn't sure what his facial expression was; she was too busy trying to prove her point.

"Making you realize that you don't need to stay here!" She called as she cleared his desk. He grabbed her arm (her right arm. Her burned arm) and forced her to look at him. Zelda realized she had dropped the items in her hands when she heard a loud clang hit the floor. She later would wonder why she didn't just use her telekinesis. But at that moment, she could only focus on Manfred's dark eyes glaring down at her.

"You don't understand!" He yelled, angered. She realized she hurt him, but she couldn't care at this moment.

"Or maybe I understand perfectly! I understand that you're a coward!" Zelda spat back, knowing she'd hit a weak spot. Manfred recoiled as if she'd slapped him. She might as well have.

She finally took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She pried his fingers from her arm, and said "I'm leaving in two weeks. If you love me, you'll come with me."

With that, she turned around and walked out the door.

It's his fault. He let her go. She doesn't want to cry, because she's afraid he'll hear her somehow.

I blame you, it's your fault, I'll never forgive you…

Come back.

"Goodbye."

That's all she has to say to him now. Zelda grabs her suitcases, turns around, and begins to walk away.

'Stop me. Tell me to wait just a few minutes. Come with me.'

"That's it?" He called after her. She stopped. 'Yes, yes, yes.'

Dropping her suitcases, she turned around again. "What do you mean?"

"That's all you're going to say? Goodbye?" Manfred said angrily, coming towards her.

"I have nothing else to say," she replied. 'There's a chance.'

There was a pause and she realized that she was deluding herself. There was no chance.

"I think my heart's on fire," he said. It was almost pathetic, except Manfred could never be pathetic to her.

"Are you sure you're not sick?" She asked. She knew where this was going, but she was ready.

"I love you," he told her, looking her straight in the eye. 'No.'

"I don't believe you, anymore."

Her words stung him, she could tell. But she was done. This was the moment; she'd accepted this. And she wasn't going to let him win her over again. Picking up her suitcases, she began to walk away again.

"I thought stories were forever, Zelda."

His shrill words pierced through the air between them as he called after her bitterly.

She bit her lip, her eyes watering. She didn't turn to look at him, but merely called backwards while looking straight ahead.

"We have no story, Manfred."

They could've had everything. But instead, they were both left with nothing.

A/N: I wanted to try my hand at Manfred/Zelda. I think I did okay, but not amazing. Thoughts? BTW, listening to Adele's "Rolling In The Deep" is recommended. You'll notice some references to the song.

Word Count: 2,091

Time Posted: Between 11:45 and 11:59 PM.

- May :)