AN: I was rereading the books and came up with this idea. I hope it turns out okay. Please enjoy and thank you for stopping by. Reviews are most welcome.
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Imprisoned By The Heart
by stutter in love
Prologue
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He breathed heavily, his chest puffing as he tried to work his heart rate back to normal. Ignoring the sharp pain in his ankle, he walked forward, determined despite how exhausted he was. He wanted to lay down and rest, close his eyes and forget everything, but he wasn't allowed that. Not now, not for a long time.
Swallowing down spit tinged with the taste of blood, he kept going, straight for his target. His hand fisted around the handle of the knife. His lips pulled into a thin line. He didn't want to do it. He honestly didn't. But what had to be done, had to be done, and he couldn't back out.
Seeing her torn expression, filled with pain and hurt both physically and emotionally, it nearly ripped his heart apart. He hated seeing that sort of expression on her face, her features twisted into something that resembled a broken, pitiful animal. But... she... she deserved it. She was doomed to wear that expression whether they liked it or not. And even if he hurt inside to be the one to make her look like that, he knew duty was duty-- no exceptions.
If he didn't force himself to do this, if he never gathered the guts to do it, then...
He shook his head. This was too much. He had to stop thinking about it. He had to keep control of himself and his thoughts before he went nuts or worse, backed out before delivering the final blow.
She looked at him helplessly, crumpled on the ground like a sad little bird that had fallen out of its nest into the wrong backyard, mangled up by the family's dog. ...How appropriate. how disgustingly appropriate. Now he could see himself as some vicious canine, ripping its teeth into that poor, feathered animal. How cruel.
But not too far from the truth. He didn't go easy on her. He didn't spare her in the least bit. Though he felt pain when his fist met her skin, blood spilling forth from cuts and gashes, and other things he couldn't quite name, he kept going. He ruined her.
Coming to a stop next to her, he looked down, panting still as she returned his gaze, tears forming in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. He could count very easily just how many times he'd seen her cry. He remembered he time she broke down and bawled on his shoulder, a pathetic sound that made him want to hold her and chase away her nightmares for her.
That seemed so long ago...
She tried to shake her head but winced and instead just trembled. He didn't say anything as he stepped one leg over her and slid down to his knees. He trapped her arms with his legs, then sat on her stomach. She gave a weak struggle, then all together stopped, giving up.
She was surrendering. At least physically. In its place she opened her mouth, pleading to him, "Please... don't..." Her voice was so broken, her breath choked by silent sobs.
He ignored it. He had to. He had to pretend she wasn't talking. He had to pretend he wasn't going to do what she so desperately pleaded fro him not to. He put the knife down next to him and shrugged off his jacket, his wings sliding through the slits.
He winced as he felt a buckle threaten to snag on a couple feathers. Carefully, he removed it and brought it around in front of him. She looked at him with wide eyes, trying to shake her head though it caused her so much pain.
"Please, please don't! Please! Fang!"
He nearly faltered at the sound of his name on her lips. He clenched his teeth and once again ignored her. Ignored her voice. Her face. Everything. "Shut up," he said quietly, hardly an order though it made her jaw click shut and her lip tremble.
"B-But... why?" she whispered.
His jaw locked. "You're not the girl I know anymore..."
He brought his jacket forth and placed it over her face. She tried to struggle but he pressed down on her forehead. "Stop moving!" he hissed, his voice breaking.
It hurt. It really did. He never saw himself doing this. Not in a million years. But here he was. And it pained him so much his heart nearly shattered. "Please... don't move..." he whispered. It was already so hard to do, he didn't want her to make it even harder.
Swallowing thickly, he picked up the knife again. If he didn't look at her face, if he didn't see her tears, hear her voice, recognize her as her, then... maybe he could do this. His eyes stung and he wanted so badly to just get up and fly away, to sob his heart out at his crime-- this sin. But he had to do it.
Feeling his chest tighten almost to the point he couldn't breath, he trembled and lifted the weapon. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... With the tip pointed down, he clenched his fist tight and stared down at that perfect chest trembling with uneven, short breath.
Max...
Feeling tears slip down his cheeks, he brought his arm down in a swift, piercing motion.
I love you.
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AN: Whoo-boy. That was heavy. Short, but heavy. Anyone need a tissue? I hope you guys like it. It's confusing now, but it'll be explained in due time what just happened.