At first glance of her, he was full of adoration as much as everyone else. She was amazing without a doubt, but he accepted that he had no chance with a girl as smart and cute as her. He savored what he recorded of her in his diary. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him. He was simple after all.
-2-
When he found out what the teacher's assistant was really like, he suddenly wished he never knew her at all. The way she spoke of death and how nonplussed she behaved when she was the one with blood spilling on her hands, dripping from her sweet face, and pooling on the floor... His eyes were wide, drinking in the horrific sight to traumatic memory as nausea filled him. He was nauseous from the fear, from the discovery of insanity, and from the smell and scent of death in front of him. Suddenly guilt clashed with the nausea and fear and he buckled down to his knees with a feeble cry, clapping his hands to his mouth as he swallowed back the bile in his throat.
A soft laugh and sweet smile was sent his way, as if to soothe him to calm down, that it was nothing more than some sick joke…
-2-
When they weren't hunting the other holders, she wasn't as crazy as he thought her to be. No, he had been wrong. Something changed. He saw how her eyes lit up, how her cheeks colored, how her speech faltered, how her smile widened, and how she giggled… She was just a girl, he realized. The way she shrieked, jumping and clinging to him for dear life when she was terrified of something as small as zombies, ghosts… She wasn't that killer he saw awhile back. No, she was just a girl, and she was just as normal as he was; just as scared as he was; and just as forced into these ruthless games of survival as he was.
-2-
Skeletons, in a room of decay and darkness, and the familiar nausea knotted his stomach. His eyes widened as he felt her soft breathing from behind him. He was caught. Caught by her! Just when he was seeing the normal side of her, he finds this… oh no, is she going to… He felt her muttering in tears, but he's too frightened to listen. He fled, needing safety, needing privacy, needing it all more than he realized in a long time…
-2-
Everyone could betray him, but she wouldn't. All of them had backstabbed him one way or another, but she hadn't. She killed, he knew. She was unstable, he knew. She watched him, he knew but what he didn't know out of all was why she was that way. He wondered about it, but never asked, in his own fear of bringing that murderous rage upon himself. That same murderous rage he watched as it claimed another person who put him in jeopardy of death that she withheld with a swing of a shining blade, with a flying arrow or dart, with a bullet… She would fight for him, even with her bare hands, knowing that it would risk her own life in the process and she had never backstabbed him.
As much as he wondered of her, he also wondered about himself. Would he love her if she wasn't what she was? If she wasn't the coldhearted, insane, and possessive partner she was now? What was the answer? He stood at the altar, in a white suit, finding himself unable to utter the words "I do" at a rehearsal…
-2-
No, the answer was… yes!
Nothing else mattered anymore, except bringing her back. He loved her. Oh God, how he loved her so much. He was so blind! He was so stupid! He was so drowned within his own fear that he didn't acknowledge all of the signs laid out in front of him from the very beginning… and how he regretted it. She was gone, she was gone, she was gone…
And he was alone, crying the hardest he ever had. No matter how many lives she took away (friends, family), no matter how many lies she said (to protect him), and no matter how many times he fell into the wrongful hands of others, she had always been there to reassure him that she would protect him and that she would love him… No matter the fact that he used her, no matter the fact that he was scared of her, no matter the fact that he didn't love her.
But now he did, and she was gone… forever. And he lay stuck in the endless blackness of his own despair.