A.N. Notes on the ideas presented within this short story—including a definition of the title—will be placed in the Author Notes at the end. This is to ensure unbiased interpretation for any reader that enjoys such. If that does not pertain to you and you would like to familiarize yourself with the notes before reading, feel free to scroll to the bottom and do so. Enjoy!
Art was her nature. She was not completely certain why it was so, but it was without a doubt her favorite thing to do. The sketchpad she always carried around was full of various drawings and, while they were good, they lacked a certain quality: inspiration.
Her art was teeming with skillfulness even though it was usually nothing more than childish doodles. She often drew without the use of lines, using only colors of various hues to aid the eye in distinguishing important traits such as depth or shadow. Nevertheless, because she had no real inspiration for her drawings and just drew whatever, they were lackluster.
That is until she met him—the boy that gave her inspiration.
After just laying eyes on him her art soared, coated with glimmering inspiration. He was at the heart of it all, and this fact translated itself onto every blank page within her sketchpad in the form of his image. She drew him on a beach; she drew him in various imaginative worlds where he was a hero; she drew him hand-in-hand with herself. It was at that point that she realized he was at more than just the heart of her drawing and inspiration, but at the heart of herself as well.
She had given him her heart and in return he had given her inspiration. After some time she found herself pondering whether he loved her; she concluded that he did, otherwise he would not have given her the beautiful gift of inspiration. There was that and also the fact that he was desperately searching for her, overcoming every trial and tribulation in his path with her as his goal.
And yet the boy had never even met her, for she was a witch and her art a means of taboo. The boy thought he knew her, thought he cared for her well-being, thought he had to save her and protect her as if he really were the hero she made him out to be in some of her drawings—for he was a hero, just not hers. But he would save her all the same. He would pledge to her that he would always protect her and be there for her. It was at that point that she realized he did love her, and would continue to do so if she just ignored the guilt and shame gathering in her chest.
But she could not, and it burst out in words so sincere and sorrowful. He did not understand at first, but she calmed down and explained it one piece at a time. To say she was prepared for the inevitable outcome was a lie, just like everything he thought he knew about her and felt about her.
With sympathetic sorrow and a hint of disappointment in his voice, he told her he wanted her to undo the things she had done to his memory. Although she did not want to lose him and spoke that truth in her own way, all he did was stand there glumly.
So she did his bidding and took away the false memories. He was leaving her life of his own choice, regardless of the fact she was removing herself from his memory. It was at that point that she realized he was taking more than just himself out of her life, but the wonderful inspiration he bestowed upon her and her heart as well. She had misused his gift and the now unbearable deprivation of him in her life would be her punishment.
Depression racked her mind and body. Her thoughts consisted of nothing but him. She lost the will to create art and became a hollow, retracted shell of her once vibrant existence when he was in her life. A witch she may be, but she concluded that he was a being capable of deplorable acts worse than any witch's taboo. The rest of her life—short as it would be—would be hollow like her chest and filled to the brink with nothing but helpless sorrow.
A.N. A "Leanan Sídhe" is a being of Celtic Folklore that gives great inspiration to an artist (be it literal art or something else like singing, poetry, etc.) in return for the artist's love and devotion. Typically they are female, but there is no gender constraint. They are said to live off the life-force of those that accept the gift of inspiration; they do not appreciate their gift of inspiration being wasted or misused, and if it is, they punish the person by leaving them, draining their life-force immensely, or both. A person who is tied to one is said to live a short life.
Those ideas are applied throughout the short story above. Hope you enjoyed!