Quick lunch break Zervis drabble.
Not sure where this is going to go. I have inspiration, but I don't know if I'm going to execute what I want to see out of it. Experimental, nonetheless.
One year after they part, she meets him again.
He finds her walking corpse curled up against a dead tree. She is tired and weary, sick of life and aching for death—and most of all, she is alone.
He approaches without much caution at all, and she notices it in the air immediately when something even colder than the lack of life around her nears her.
He finally comes within sight of her half-closed eyes, and when she looks up at him with hungry eyes, she eats him right up. She swallows him whole.
Her eyes no longer shine with the same emerald luster she had when she first set out on the adventure called life. But now life for her is a never ending journey, and she is a weary and lost traveler reaching for the mirage of the end. She is a tarnished gem and he can see it through the windows of her soul.
Her eyes mirror his eyes, and he doesn't know if he loves them more that way or not.
Once, she was the complete opposite of him—young, blond, naïve, confident about saving the world and making it a better place—and in just one year, she had practically become the same as him—immortal, jaded, giving less shits about life than the caked dirt on her bare feet.
Once, being alive meant everything to her. She tried to do everything before death brought unfulfilled achievements—nothing to look forward to. Now, being alive meant nothing to her, and death seemed ripe with opportunity—everything to expect for.
"I know what it means to be a god now," she tells him suddenly. "It means to be void of any pleasure and to be trapped in your own mind with no way out."
"I see," he says. "You're cursed now."
"Who knew being a god was so bedeviled," she remarks.
He frowns and leans towards her.
"Come with me, Mavis," he says, his hand outstretched. "My queen."
Then he smiles, and she thinks for a moment that she still might be dreaming.
But it hurts more to try to pinch herself awake than to take his hand, and so she stirs for the first time in two weeks to meet him. They stand at the same height—like yin and yang, opposite but equal—and from the point where their fingers touch, the air quivers between the two death-bringing lives.
He knows her better than anyone. He is the only one she is not afraid to be close to.
After all, being together with her brings death—so what better a companion than immortality himself?
"You want to die, don't you, Mavis?"
"Yes," she tells him. She doesn't know what he has planned.
"I know," he replies. "But I don't know—that's why I asked."
His contradictions don't bother her. His insanity represents the duality of the human nature that her undying life had been born from. Young and old, right and wrong, all and none—they are all the same and she was a fool for ever thinking there was a line dividing them.
But if there's one thing she has learned, it's that loneliness doesn't have an opposite.
Being alone is always. Even surrounded by the world, she can still be lonely. And so—
"I want to die," she repeats. "I want to be able to live again."
"I don't want to lose you," he confesses.
"I'm still here."
"I love you."
"Do you love me enough to let me go?"
He tells her yes.
"Good," she says. She doesn't bother rationalizing her own emotions. "Then tell me how to die."
He is the angel that would lead her out of her insufferable and eternal nightmare.
"If you want to go to heaven, you have to commit a sin," he says, his whispered words ringing loud in her ears. "Take a bite from the apple and kiss me."
She doesn't doubt him. She doesn't want to be lonely anymore.
She just wants nothing, and everything that she wants is just that.
In a split moment that seemed to last forever, she presses her soft lips hard against him. Her eyes are closed, but she is opened to a whole new world.
Death never tasted any sweeter.
Hmmm, so whatcha think? Yeah, I know it turned out angsty and weird, as most things do in my hands…I have yet to write a cute fluffy Zervis piece.
thir13enth