The first fic that isn't taken by WHERE ART THOU STING - though she did help me out. Go Sting. Enjoy. Review.
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The only thing worse than making a wrong decision was having to live with the consequences your entire life. I did things wrong, just like everyone else, but I was tangled in a web of everyone else's wrongs. But then, maybe I was just imagining that.
He didn't move in grace, or by strategy. How he was still alive after the battles was still a mystery to me - what was not? Did he enjoy our war, or was he simply as tired of the effort as I was? Neither of us had won any of them, really, and I would not rest until I had the victory.
Most of the time I tried not to let my own bitterness show. But sometimes the real me would seep out of my soul, and there was no stopping the storm of madness. I succumbed every now and again, as most fools do, but even the best of us fall off the wagon on occasion, especially when the situation is so very ridiculous - or so I keep telling myself.
Unintentionally, without even realising, I block the strongest weapons from my mind. Of course I know his weaknesses - I know my own, do I not? But I convince myself time and time again that I am his polar opposite. But the harder I try to find differences, the more alike we seem to be. Perhaps I'm not after him - I'm after the mirror of my own soul.