Fragile
Her naked skin, wrapped in blue shadows.
Pale and pinkish like that of a newborn infant that had never touched the light of any star, amidst decaying slime, burned soil and the carcasses of her former minions.
Delicate hands trembling in the moment, simply hanging in the air without truly reaching for anything like the wings of a smashed insect, barely getting strangled noises out of her throat, displaying faint movement like a shattered, dying creature that had been mangled beyond recognition, let alone salvation, awaiting to meet its maker, having already lost the spark of its life.
And yet, she had never looked more alive than in this very moment, now that her limp, unmoving body lay in his arms once again, appearing ridiculously small beside the bulky frame of his battle suit, her flesh bare, soft and ridiculously easy to pierce.
She didn't even resemble herself – he had always seen her encased, even before that black day on which she had been embraced by fate, ripped away from him to become a harbinger of death and – ironically – salvation as well.
Encased in tight armored suits that showed all and yet nothing of her, shackled with cold metal devices embedded in the depths of her head that restrained her immeasurable power, held in check by her own fears, her inability to communicate her feelings, her own wishes and ideals of who she wanted to be and what she thought to be right, her own iron will. From all this, she had been liberated; All the dark and unearthly things in the corners of her mind, all the thoughts and feelings she couldn't bear to look at were unleashed, only for her very soul to be placed under new binds, only for her flesh to be encased anew in cold slime and a rigid exoskeleton, greenish and blotched as if it were rotting.
Now, it had returned to its original color, every fiber of it having been purged of its corruption, having attained the joy of rebirth through the unwanted gift of immolation, formed anew out of ash like the wings of a phoenix.
It was downright disturbing to see her reduced to the helpless, untainted, nude state of a child; there had always been an air of cold distance and sheer, inhuman power around this woman, intangible and deadly as she had always been, no matter whether she had fought alongside or against him.
The strong, sharp features of her face almost looked out of place.
This was the first time he ever saw her …fragile.