Flawed Lovers
"One light and One dark. So beautiful, so flawless. Yet they are flawed. They make a beautiful pair, my Flawed Lovers." Dramione, AU.
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"You are imperfect, permanently and inevitably flawed. And you are beautiful."
-Amy Bloom
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They call me the Winds, the Tides, the Spirit that haunts the lands, singing her mournful hymn carried out by the Winds. They say I can't see, I do not exist, but I do. I do exist. I see many things—young love, death, destruction—but I have yet to see my pair of flawed lovers. I have been searching for them for a long time, since the beginning of time.
Now I have found them.
One light, one dark. So beautiful, so flawless. Yet they are flawed. They make a beautiful pair, my Flawed Lovers. They meet in the clearing every night at midnight, and no one else knows, just them and I.
They love each other with a passion; one that I have yet to witness in any other pair. Both would not hesitate to die for the other, yet they cannot be together. One is fighting for the light, the other is fighting for the dark.
I have been roaming these lands for centuries, in hopes when I find them I shall be set free. We shouldn't be here, we can't be here, she whispers to him, head burrowed in his neck. He, in response, holds her tighter. He breathes in her scent, knowing what is to occur tonight, hoping and praying she will remain unharmed from the fighting.
Take me, he thinks. Take me but not her. I hear his prayers, but I cannot do anything. I can only watch and listen. But he doesn't know Death is listening, and Death has decided to collect him, but not her, just like his wishes.
Death has also loved before, but she was snatched from him, killed by himself. She had been bitten on the ankle by a poisonous viper, and he was forced to collect.
He has craved to destroy the two for a long time, and tonight, I know, he will get his wish.
Get away from the castle tonight, He whispers to her, eyes searching hers with a frenzy. I watch them, fascinated. She refuses. His jaw clenches and his eyes glint dangerously, and I know what is about to happen. I carefully move away from them, knowing my pair of lovers will set each other free, in hopes to save the other.
.l.
Death. He is everywhere—from the young girl with the blonde hair to the man with black hair. I search for them, but I cannot find them. I see other lovers, of course, such as the man with the sand coloured hair with the woman with pink hair, dead, but both still laying together, hands intertwined.
United even when dead, a good death. Neither will have to suffer without the other. I push past the fighters, the ones still fighting bravely, valiantly, even when their Fate has already been written out. These are the ones Death will enjoy taking.
I spot him, wearing black. I spot her, wearing white. He fights with several at once, she fights with one. But, I notice, even when they have already set each other free, they still look and search for each other.
His aunt sends a curse towards her direction. His eyes widen, and he throws himself in front of her, in hopes of saving her. His blood blossoms across his shirt like flowers, and she drops to her knees. No, she screams, No. It is too late. He is gone. I watch on from a distance. She screams in agony, knowing he has left her.
.l.
The War and the bloodshed are over. She is devastated. Her friends are celebrating, but she is not. She walks towards their clearing, and I wait for her there. I stand, watching her with veiled eyes.
I know what she will do. I will not stop her. She cannot live without him, just like he can't live without her. She falls to her knees. Her tears slide down her face and as they land on the ground, the ground blossoms in white roses. Why, she cries. Why?
She is about to slit her forearms, but she stops. She gets up, puts the knife down, and takes her ring off. The one he gave her. She buries it in the ground and weeps over it.
I watch on.
A flower blossoms from the spot where she planted her ring.
A black rose. Funny, really. For a band meaning eternal love to create a black rose, and watered by heartbreak's tears.
A black rose can never be a sunflower.
.l.
She goes on in life, falling into a schedule. She marries the redhead eventually, and when she has their children, I know she sometimes imagines what they would look like with silver eyes and blond hair. She smiles, she laughs. But there is something missing. Her eyes are veiled, she does not smile as easily as she used to. She pretends to love him, she does, and he falls for it. But a piece of her heart died along with him, I know. She cannot love another, when her heart was already tied to his. She silently suffers and she berates herself every day for saying those harsh words to him in the clearing after I left.
She has lost her spark.
Yet nobody seems to notice.
.l.
She dies in her sleep, a peaceful death. He waits for her and brings her to him. They are young again. She runs through the meadow of flowers to greet him, and cries tears of joy when she realizes it is not another of her dreams, not just another vision concocted by her brilliant mind.
It's real life.
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I do, she whispers, happy tears in her eyes.
With her 'I do,' they are bound together, for life, and in the soul. Their souls are now intertwined together.
I float towards them, invisible, and place my hand on their intertwined hands, and although they do not know, I bless them to find each other again in their next life.
I will be waiting for them.
Willingly.
.l.
Something tries to drag me down, but I kick.
.
.
I kick again.
.
I am free.
.l.
They have met again, my pair of flawed lovers. He teases her again and pulls her hair. She frowns at him and gives him a scathing glare.
.l.
He kisses her sweetly, sealing their fate.
I watch on, this time willingly.
-fin-
