A new couple I tried out. See if you like!
She didn't know having a broken heart could kill you.
She had always laughed at the ignorant, petty girls who threw themselves onto the dirt and sobbed when their special ones left them; her mouth would curl into an unbelieving smirk and her eyes would roll themselves heavenward. She knew in her mind that she would never be so desperate, so needy, like those damsels.
And then Link had confessed his love to her.
She remembered the day: A pink satin robe hung loosely around her lithe frame; her hair blew to the breeze's desire. She had been watching the stars, connecting the patterns—relaxing.
He had climbed up her ivy-covered wall, jumping over with a loud thud. Her cheeks had turned pink for an unknown reason at the sight of him; his tunic ripped, eyes wild, mouth pressed together in tension.
She had walked toward him, asking, searching. His hand caught hers. It was so little in his rough, calloused hand.
"Zelda," her heart had melted at the deep, liquid tone of his, "I need to tell you something."
He had gone on to tell her about how his childhood adoration had turned into very adult longing. How is heart ached at the thought of her getting married to an old, stuffy man. How he thought she looked gorgeous in pink; the exact shade of her rosy cheeks.
She had stopped him once or twice, begging to return the gestures, but his warm finger would meet her soft lips, silencing her.
His arms found their way around her waist, pulling her into his chest, still murmuring secrets into her lavender-scented hair. Soon the cuddling turned to kissing, and the kissing heated up…fast.
No, she snapped into the present, the memories burning into her mind, leaving her chest wide open and gasping for breath. She couldn't think of him. He had said all those things…done all those deeds…and then left her.
She choked another sob back in her swollen throat, clutching the warm blankets to her frail chest; trying to find an anchor. Her mind was muddled, fuzzy, everything blurry and unfocused. She could feel two things: One, the bed she was nestled in, and two—the stone Link had given her that fateful night.
She reached her delicate hand to the oak nightstand and ran her finger across the ebony surface. Pure black, smooth as silk, the size of her fist…her only memory of her true love.
She also remembered that conversation—but this one hurt. Badly.
"Zelda," his voice was cool, distant, "We need to talk."
She had put down the book she was reading and looked into the eyes of her best friend, and true love. She had eventually grown accustomed to his random, late-night visits.
"What is it, Link?" in the present, she winced at the vulnerable tone of her voice.
His eyes were unusually hard, "I need to leave." Was all he had muttered.
She hadn't thought anything of it, "Come back tomorrow, then!" she had leaned in for a small peck, but he caught her waist and held her at arm's length.
"Zelda…" his grip tightened, hands moving to her wrists, pinning her fingers to the bed, "I won't see you for a while…"
He had gone on to explain how he had signed up for a soldier's training camp. He would learn weaponry and battle tactics. He would become a superior fighter—but he wouldn't see her for a year.
Her eyes had widened, tears forming at the corners, "Link…are you…leaving me?" her small voice cracked twice, her hands shaking under his warm palms holding her away.
"Yes," he was dead serious, "We're not good for each other, Zel. This will help both…in the long run."
His lips met hers, a whisper of something that once was…and never could be. For a moment, she pretended he still wanted her, still loved her. The feeling of his breath, arms, lips…she took it all in. And then laid back down, slept.
Three weeks later, she had caught the newest—and deadliest—influenza in the country. She was so weak, her body refused to fight it off. She became worse…and worse…
And now, finally, she was dying.
She could literally feel the life draining out of her; nothing was left to live for. No one.
The last coherent thought she had was that she would never, ever make fun of someone with of a broken heart…because she was one of them.
Just as her heart pumped one last time, rough and tortured, someone touched her hand.
"Zel," it was him. Link.
"Link," she sighed, her tone garbled with exhaustion, "I'll miss you."
The hand was burning, she was ice cold, "No," his voice was strangled, anguished, "Zelda! You…you traitor! How could you?"
Her eyes popped open at his angry words, "Link, I—"
His hands grabbed her upper arms, pulling her into his lap, "Don't give up! You can't just…leave me!" he shook her, and she gasped in pain.
"Link, you left." She congratulated herself for sounding strong, sure, "I was done with my life. I was going to die peacefully."
He snarled, "You won't die if I have anything to say about it!" his lips met hers, crashing, biting her bottom lip with a fierce passion. She moaned and curled herself into him, burning with life—fire. He was rash, bold, and daring; his kisses rough and sparked by emotion, but she loved him even more.
When they broke apart, his hands cupped her small, pale face, "I love you."
"The last time you said that—"
Again, his finger pressed against her lips, and she was helpless in his arms, "I was stupid then. I mean it now. The only reason I left to fight is because I was scared…of ruining your life. I wanted to protect you, and that's how I did it." He leaned in again, this time slower, to kiss her pearly pink lips.
The one time they came up for air, she glanced over his shoulder at the black stone he had given her; it seemed, in the moonlight, that there was a glow emitting from the center—a piece of light shining through the darkness.
Just like Link.
Did you like it? Let me know if I should continue in this Fandom!
R & R!
