"Fiyero, my darling, my sweet, I…" I stopped for a second. Could I face him? I had failed my task. He disapproved. What if he was angry?
The stairs creaked and I gathered my courage, knowing that if Fiyero didn't love me no one ever would, and that would be okay. Happiness was fleeting and rare, to be mourned and moved on. I had no soul, and I recognized that. I did love Fiyero, yes, but no more than that. We knew this would end, eventually. But not yet, thankfully. I needed him tonight; I needed to revel at the blue and green analogous colors that would meld into one beautiful shape.
"Fiyero." I said, pushing open our door.
It wasn't locked.
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The white cat was red.
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The world was perfectly destroyed.
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Fiyero was gone.
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No, Fiyero wasn't just missing.
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Fiyero was dead.
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It was so warm. Almost warm enough to suffice for his embrace, but it didn't loop its arms around me and whisper to me that everything was alright. No, this whispered a different tune. It squished and flooded into my ears. It blocked out the screams and the wind. The snow on the ground as it melted and mixed with the snow. The falling rain on the ruby stained cat as it cleansed itself. Two golden green moons echoed the silver one that danced in the precipitation. It was so warm.
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How long had I laid there? Basking in the moonlight and blood? I laughed. The blood didn't burn.
"But I want to burn," I whispered. "I want to burn!" Now I arose, yelling and acting hysterical. I was in complete control of my insanity. My impenetrable fortress of emotions and consciousness, my personal wall to keep out pesky thoughts of souls, it was solid. Perfect. Nothing could destroy me. I was a blood shot diamond, the purest imperfection, the faultless green smudge on the painting of a blue planet, a wilted rose in a field of poppies, the reincarnation of fiery water, the most wicked and heartless creature to ever crawl about this world, though the mud and hate, with no attempts to cover her obvious fact that she is ideal. She is perfect. She is undefined and forever flowing, a river on fire, a love so deep the blood runs free and wild, a burning passion which fails to be disrupted by the very liquid of creation and life.
Tic.
Toc.
It was raining softly now.
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I could hear the clock, far off, singing goodbye.
Tic.
Toc.
I could hear him, a little closer now, singing hello.
Tic.
Toc.
The rain didn't burn. It felt beautiful- that is, it felt like nothing. One cannot feel beauty… but one can be it. And I knew that as the rain fell and I stepped from myself into Fiyero's arms, that I was beauty.
I glanced back at myself as the rain began to stop.
All around my old body was green.
But my old body was the purest white.
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