What Was Never Mine
If only I could have my way
If we had not been there that day
If only I could turn back time
If only you were mine
A single tear slid down as he held back a slight sob, His resolve was slowly breaking. How he didn't manage to save her – it was pathetic really.
If I knew how to go about
Willing the dreadful words to come out
To only once escape my mouth
If only you were mine
He should've told her – how he felt. How she made him giddy inside. How he couldn't live without her. How she was his light, his love, his everything. But he couldn't bring himself to say it. And for what? For the sake of his pride. His ignorant, selfish pride. She could've been his, if he hadn't let her go. She couldn't wait forever.
If only I had slowed my gait
If only I could change our fate
If only we had time to wait
If only you were mine
He should've been there, but he wasn't. He shouldn't have let her go, but he did. And for his foolish mistake – she payed the price.
If only you were with me now
But if only I knew how
To live a life my love without
If only you were mine
If he could just sense her warmth, feel her smile again. She was almost tangible – there, but not quite so. But a fleeting moment was she – only to be gazed upon, never to be stirred. She was in an eternal sleep. She was beautiful. And she was almost his.
Almost.
If only I had said it once
Not twice, nor thrice – but only once
If you could know one time, just once
If only I could die
He'd had his chance and he could've taken it – but he didn't. And for doing that, he blamed only himself.
Fried Justine.
He sighed as he looked down upon her white-haired corpse. She was beautiful, gorgeous. She was dead. It was hard to register that she was gone. That she was no more.
She was dead.
And now, she could and would never know how he felt because she was dead.
The thought was just too painful to bear.
He was shaken out of his thought when the weight of a hand was felt on his shoulder. He turned to see none other than Bixlow.
"Hey, none of us saw it coming. Don't blame yourself cuz there was nothing you could do." The silver-masked fellow gave him a sympathetic smile and Fried sighed. Even through the melody of words, he knew the truth – that those sweet-sounding words were wrong.
"But there was," At this he gave a bitter laugh. "I could've told her. She could've known. But she doesn't and she never will."
She was his nakama. Nakama save each other. And yet where was he when she needed him? He wasn't there and she ended up getting hurt. She was dead. She should've been his. The guilty thoughts played over and over again in his head like a broken record.
She was gone, she was no more. His fault – she was dead.
He gave a soft cry as his knees failed him and he found himself kneeling in front of her casket.
She was Mirajane, and she was dead.
