a/n:
contest entry for wa r a e nai. :)
it's a little (lot) confusing, and pretty much
just a major angst-fest for my favorite het
couple. but I hope it's okay just the same.
shoulder angel;
shoulder devil.
That's how he always greets her – arm outstretched in invitation, lazy smirk resting casually on his face. His hair is mussed from a previous fight, and his black leather boots are forever scuffed at the toe. And she never, ever sees him without that infuriating glint in his glowing green eyes.
She hates him – hates him, hates him, hates him – because every time she meets his gaze, something in her heart jerks violently awake.
And every time she runs away, screaming this isn't how it's supposed to be.
- x -
"He talks about you all the time, you know," the nymph spits at her (and for a moment, she swears she hears thunder). "Never shuts up. It's incredibly annoying. I'd like to rip him into pieces whenever your name falls past his lips…"
Two steps are taken; the princess is trapped.
"Personally, I think you'd be a much better prize."
As she waits for the cold bite of metal, a flash of red is seen. Red like the blood bubbling inside of her veins; red like the death she can taste in her mouth.
But no pain is felt when a scream hits the air.
The nymph crumples to the ground in a swirl of dark smoke, and the princess glances upward to look upon her savior.
He says nothing as the corners of his lips turn up in a smile, but she knows – she knows – what he is thinking.
It only makes her hate him more.
- x -
The drowsy lull of the ocean waves does nothing to calm her at night. What used to be a symbol of home, a symbol of hope, now only makes her shudder.
("If you have a dream, don't wait. Act. One of life's little rules… Got it memorized?")
The prince often asks the princess why she doesn't visit the island anymore, but she never can reply. Her throat always tightens as his first words echo throughout her mind; the words that helped bring her perfect prince back, the words that made her strong.
But it's his voice that says them each and every time.
When the prince looks upon her with those sky-blue eyes (filled with love and pain and worry), she puts a hand to her chest out of instinct, because she's sure her heart is breaking.
- x -
"I can see the way he looks at you," the white witch whispers, her fingers curling around a crayon the color of sunshine. "He doesn't look at anyone else like that. Not even Roxas."
The princess bites down on the soft flesh of her lower lip and (once again) is silent.
"You should be careful, though. Because in case you have forgotten…" She tears through the page of colored-wax smiles; of thieves dressed in black, "he doesn't have a heart."
I know that! the princess screams soundlessly, as if pleading to the tiny devil on her shoulder with its tail hooked into her ribcage.
But the devil only laughs as it slits the angel's throat, blood falling into the drawing that the witch solemnly works on.
The color stains her hands.
- x -
The day the princess loses her crown, all she sees is rain.
It falls from the clouds in drops that hit the ground like gunfire. She can hear the shadows creep around her, feel their yellow eyes following her as she flies. She doesn't stop running until her lungs and legs give out at once, letting the princess clatter noisily to the pavement.
"You idiot!" he shouts, his anger nearly lost in the sound of a hundred dying demons. "Why did you come here?! What the hell were you thinking?!"
She's hoisted up, and she blinks her eyes, but her gaze locks onto nothing.
"Kairi? Oh, for the love of –"
Not love, hate, because she hates him – hates him, hates him, hatehatehate – and she hates the fact that he is the reason she's out there right now, cold, wet, and partially blind. He is the reason she's having trouble breathing; the reason her ribs feel as though they might crack.
(He saves her from herself just as the scepter hits the floor.)
- x -
"You're not my hero," she says blankly, pushing her wet hair off her face. "You're not my knight in shining armor. You're nothing. Nobody."
"Actually, I'm Axel," he responds with a dry tone, his hands attempting to remove her boots (like some backwards fairy tale). "And you are a crazy little girl who nearly died fifteen minutes ago. Now sit still and shut up while I get you something warm to wear."
Her arms wrap protectively around her middle, and she quells the urge to kick him promptly in the face. She watches him stand with her nose in the air; a haughty princess forced to dress in common rags. He rolls his eyes once he sees her, but says nothing.
He brings back a large black t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, throwing them on the unmade bed unceremoniously. "Your ball gown, my highness."
And he grins as though he knows it all, which only makes her blue eyes blaze.
- x -
That night, she finds herself pinned between him and a wall, the heart-shaped moon watching carefully above them.
"I hate you," sighs the fallen princess, shivering at the feel of his hands on her waist (and wishing, wishing, wishing that for once, her words were true)
The soulless knight smirks and leans slowly toward her, "I know."
And Kairi knows that when they kiss, there will be no wake from a deep sleep, no happily ever after.
But she takes it anyway.
