AN: A weird dream and a sudden, unexplainable urge for some depression . . . Enjoy the results.
Disclaimer: It's called FANfiction for a reason.
"Why put a new address on the same old loneliness
when breathing just passes the time
until we all just get old and die?
Now talking's just a waste of breath,
and living's just a waste of death,
and why put a new address on the same old loneliness?
And this is you and me,
and me and you,
until we've got Nothing Left."
--Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying, by Fall Out Boy.
Nothing Left
It'd been weeks. Weeks of revelations, of seeing places and things that she had never dreamed of seeing, of realizing that there were things in the world that she would never understand, and wasn't sure she wanted to. Weeks of watching his every movement, scrutinizing his every reaction for some hope, some sign that she was more than just a moment's distraction to him. Weeks of the fear that never quite left the edges of her consciousness: the fear that one morning she would wake up and he would be gone, just as every other thing she had ever loved was gone.
Yes. She loved him.
Why? It was foolish. He insulted her, laughed at her, hurt her, and ignored her by turns. At first he had been amused by her, fascinated even, by her defiance, her spirit, the strength hidden in her weakness. In these later days, however, he seemed to only acknowledge her existence when absolutely necessary, and even then with reluctance, as though recalling an unpleasant duty. If she spoke to him he either ignored her or responded with annoyance, and sometimes even true anger.
Those times made her afraid.
She never forgot that he was different. How could she, when every time she looked at him she saw those brilliant amethyst eyes, and every time he moved it was with unnatural, inhuman grace? But most times she could pretend that he was just an odd sort of human, with unsettling habits, and an exotic appearance. Not so when he was angry. At those times, when his amethyst eyes darkened with rage and his lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that for him, killing her would be the matter of a moment. He was indisputably Dragon, the stuff of nightmares, and by no means someone to trust. Certainly not someone to love.
She couldn't help it.
She didn't make a sound, except perhaps a sharp intake of breath, as he released her forearms and deposited her into a haystack. She was used to it by now. Shuddering, she struggled her way out, brushing bits of the itchy hay off of her arms and clothing.
"Selendrile?" she queried, tilting her head to the side as she walked toward the enormous golden dragon. "Why are we stopping?" It wasn't even midday yet, and she very much doubted that he was finally heeding her complaints and stopping so that she could rest her sore arms. He usually didn't land until late afternoon, leaving her to set up camp while he hunted.
He shifted to his human form, not even reacting with a flicker of expression when she immediately flushed and looked away. That wasn't right. He should have smirked, enjoying her discomfort, and prolonged her embarrassment. Instead, he came forward and took the pack from her, reaching inside without looking and pulling out a pair of breeches. She kept her eyes averted as he dressed.
"Selendrile?" she prompted. He looked at her, his expression inscrutable.
"Griswold is about four miles that way," he finally answered, gesturing toward the direction she thought was north. Her heart froze. She had no trouble interpreting that statement, nor any longer the indifferent expression in those unnaturally colored eyes.
"You're leaving me," she stated in disbelief. She had feared it, yes, agonized over it night over night—but she hadn't expected it.
"Yes," he answered coolly.
She took an unconscious step forward, shaking her head. "No . . . No, you can't leave me. You can't."
Anger flashed in his eyes, causing her forward advancement to abruptly halt. "I can do whatever I wish," he said, outwardly calm except for the storm brewing in his eyes.
Her face was pale and colorless, her hazel eyes lost and frightened. She reached out an entreating hand, not daring to go any closer for fear of him, but unwilling to give up either, for fear of losing him.
"Please," she begged. "Please don't go."
He curled his lip in disgust and turned away. Without a qualm. Without a care. Abandoning her without a second thought. She stared in horrified disbelief, finally breaking when he shifted back to dragon form and tensed his muscles in preparation for takeoff.
"Selendrile!" she screamed. "No! Come back here you stupid dragon!" He ignored her, launching himself into the air. Sobbing in desperation, she grabbed the nearest rock —little more than a pebble, really— and hurled it at him. It hit its mark, but bounced harmlessly off the scales of his hind leg. Tears streamed down her dust-covered cheeks.
"Fine then!" she raged. "Leave! Abandon me! Don't look back!"
He didn't. He pumped his wings to gain altitude until he was little more than a glistening speck in the sky, and flew away; out of her life. But she continued to scream and rage at the sky for long minutes after he disappeared out of sight, until she abruptly went silent, staring at the sky where she had last seen him. A small, exploring breeze came, drying the tears on her cheeks and tugging at loose tendrils of her hair.
"Goodbye Selendrile," she said quietly. "I love you."
The breeze carried her words away, and a cloud moved across the sun.
AN: Wow . . . that was sad. (Or at least I thought so, but that doesn't really mean anything.) This is really my first attempt at angst, so please let me know how I did!
UPDATE: The companion/sequel is finally up! It's called Never Look Back, and it's the story from Selendrile's POV. Special thanks to Lin-isfallingupthesky for reviewing and reminding me that I'd had a half-written story sitting around for a while that needed to be finished. :)
~Killer Zebra