When you left, I hated you.
Or at least I thought I did.
It hurt so much, and I thought you must hate me to make me feel this way. So I wanted to hate you. I tried to tell myself over and over again that you were bad, for me. That you had to be.
I wanted to believe it so badly.
Because when you left, the world didn't make sense anymore.
I was surrounded by family and friends, but I had never felt so alone. It was like someone had reached into my heart and twisted it until something broke. The pieces fell away, and I thought I'd never pick them up.
So I told myself I hated you. I said it over and over again, until I almost believed it. Every time I thought of you, it hurt, and I thought that must mean I was right.
And then I repeated it to myself again, just to be sure.
That I hate you, Blake.
But then you found me.
I remember when you hugged us there, in the Atrium of Haven Academy, and every repetition of that mantra fell away. I remember feeling the sweat on your skin from the combat, and I just wanted to hold you and make sure that no one had touched you. No one had hurt you.
That night, for the first time in so long, I slept without nightmares.
When I woke, I wanted to go straight to you. Tell you that nothing mattered, that all I cared about was that you were safe and okay and you were here, with me. That nothing in the world could be so terrifying, so long as you were there by my side.
Then I remembered what I had said all those times.
I tried to make myself hate you.
I remember when Ruby and Weiss asked about you… I… I was so angry. I wanted you to never come back. I wanted them to hate you too. I wanted the world to know what you had done to me, and to cast you out for it.
I remember laying in bed, months on end, thinking of your face, and wishing that he had killed you and I had never tried to save you.
How could you ever forgive me?
You seem so happy to be here. You're still quiet, but I can see it in the small turn of your perfect lips as you look at us. I can see it when you see Sun, and then look away shyly.
And it makes me want to hate you all over again.
But I don't think I do. I think I know who I really hate.
Sun talked to me the other day. He asked me why I wasn't talking to you. Why I shied away every time your eyes glimmered and you said "hey," and I just walked away. He's worried about you. I see him, looking at you the same way I do.
I told him I didn't know. That I thought maybe it might just take time for things to get back to normal.
He looked worried, but he said that's okay. Just not to be too hard on you.
How could I be?
I don't think there's any world where you came through that broken wall and my heart didn't flutter and I didn't want to run to you and make sure you were okay.
I also don't think there's any world where you could accept me if I told you how I felt.
Because I'm ruined, broken. I don't know what happened that day, the one where you left, but something inside me went away. Since then, I haven't smiled right. The fire that used to fuel me feels dim, and every day I feel like I'm sinking slowly into a pit. It makes me angry. I want to yell at everyone around me. I want to hate the people I lo-
I'm so scared, Blake. I'm scared that if I let you come near me, I'll drag you into that pit with me.
So whenever you ask to talk, I tell you there's something else for me to do, and I come here, into my room, where everything is dark and quiet. And I try to stop the tears from coming.
It used to be hard.
Now it's so easy.
I just sit here, tuck my knees to my chest, and stare at the wall. If I stare long enough, it's like the world stops. The thoughts stop. Time stands still, and I'm numb.
Once, I was scared of that numbness. Now I welcome it. It takes away the fear, if only for a few moments before it comes crashing back like a wave and threatens to throw me out to sea.
But for now, I feel nothing.
I am nothing.
Which is why, when you knock at the door and ask if I'm in here, I don't want to say anything. It's locked, so you can't come in. You can't see me like this. You can't see the wreck I've become.
It's not the first time I'd have done this. I don't know if you know I'm in here, I hope you don't. I don't want you to feel like this is your fault. It never was. It's mine. It always has been, and it always will be.
"Yang?" My eyes squeeze shut, and a sob threatens to wrack my body as I see his face. I feel my arm burn like a thousand bees were stinging it at once, like that blade was passing through me again. It happened so easily. I thought I could help, I thought I could do something. When I saw you laying there, and him hurting you, I just knew I needed to do something.
But I couldn't.
I'm useless. I'm broken. I'm a burden.
"Please…" I hear your voice tremble and I want to run to you and tell you that everything is fine. Everything is okay.
My hands shake as I place them on the bed. I tell myself to stand, and my legs don't obey. They don't shake, they don't feel weak, they feel like they're not there. Like my arm.
Sometimes I think I can feel it. My fingers will tingle, and I'll reach up to brush my hair, but then nothing touches it.
And I remember.
I remember it all. And that searing, terrible pain and he cut through me and every nerve in my body is on fire and I'm screaming and the blackness comes crashing down on me.
Sometimes I wish it had stayed, and I had never woken up.
But you're there, and you need me, and for you…
Anything.
I grit my teeth and I force my body to obey. It feels like lifting a boulder, but I struggle until I stand. Weak, I shuffle to the door.
I turn the latch, and the click is so loud it sends my heart racing.
I can't turn the handle. I can't. It's too much. Even for you, Blake. I can't do this, please don't ask me to do this-
"Yang?" You whisper, so quiet that I could only hear it if I was here on the other side of the door, ear pressed against it. Hoping at once that you would just leave and walk away and I could go back to being numb, but also that you'd come in and tell me that you forgave me. That it was okay that I had tried to hate you, that I had been so weak…
You can't. You wouldn't. You shouldn't.
You'd be better off if you just left. Stopped thinking about me. Didn't try to talk to me.
If you'd just go.
And I became someone you left behind. A memory, an afterthought.
You have Sun and Ruby and Weiss. They would be good to you. They'd make you happy, and I can never do that. It's better for you.
But I've always been a selfish coward. The depths of the water are racing up to drown me, and I need you, now, more than ever.
"Blake?" The word slips through my lips before I can stop it.
"I'm here." You say it so simply, like there was never a question.
I wonder if this is real, or if I'm dreaming. If when I open the door to get to you, it will be him standing there, that sick, twisted smile on his lips.
And again, as he had a thousand times, he would unsheath that crimson blade and drive it through me.
No matter how many times it happens, I can't stop it.
I'm so weak.
"Yang… can I come in?" I don't answer. I shouldn't. Maybe if I make you leave now, you might start to hate me. I think that would be for the best. "If… if you don't want that, I can stay here. We can talk through the door."
You sound so scared. I want to throw the door wide and grab you tight and tell you that I will never, ever let anyone hurt you.
But who would I be to stop them?
I can't even save myself, how could I ever save you?
Hate me. I try to say the words, try to make them real, but they stick in my throat. Ever the coward, I can't even do what's best for you. I can't make myself say them, because nothing could ever hurt more than them being true.
"Or… I can wait here. I'll stay here, and if you want to talk just tell me. I'm here Yang, and I'm not going. I'm not leaving, not again."
I want to believe you. I want to let latch onto those words and never let them go.
But everyone leaves me. My mom, you, Ruby… Everyone goes away, in the end.
I can't even blame them. They're right to. I'm not worth the time.
So you should too.
Leave me.
Again, the words stop themselves on the catch in my throat. I don't dare say anything, because I think if I try, only a shattered sob will break through.
I grab the door handle and hold it tight. I can't turn it. I can't. But it anchors me, stops me from being swept away.
I want to turn it so badly.
"I know you must be mad at me. I get it. I… shouldn't have run when I did. I was just so scared Yang…"
A surge again as I want to tell you that you never have to be scared again. That we're here for you. But that would be a lie. They're here for you.
I'm not.
I can't be.
I'm nothing.
I want to go back to my bed. I want to find the numbness again, and let it take away the pain.
"And that doesn't make it okay." You go on. "It doesn't make up for everything I did. I just couldn't stand the thought of him hurting you. I couldn't save you…"
There are tears in my eyes now. My heart wrenches as I hear the pain in your voice. I never wanted you to feel that way, even if my wretched soul tried wanted to believe I couldn't care about you hurting.
"You must hate me."
The doorknob turns and suddenly its open. I don't remember doing that.
"Don't." The words are shaky and unsteady, but I force myself to finish. "Ever say that."
My fist is clenched and my cheek is wet. I hope the darkness hides it.
"Yang?"
There you are. You look surprised, your amber eyes wide and your ears flat against your head. Your hair is a little messy, wiry strands poking out all around, but it glimmers in the faint light of the moon in the hall. You're holding your hands together, your porcelain skin so smooth.
I don't say anything more, because I can't. Those four words took everything I had, but you can't think that. You can't ever believe that I hate you. I don't. I can't. I couldn't ever.
You take a half step forward, but look unsure. I can't stop myself.
I grab you and pull you into a hug. I only have the one arm and it's awkward but I don't care. "I don't hate you." I whisper, some of the fire in my belly rekindling. "I would never hate you." You have to know that.
And I feel your body wrack against mine as a sob breaks your lips and you clutch at me desperately. You're whispering my name, over and over and over, and I can't breathe because you're holding me too tight but I don't care.
You're here.
And then you're not saying my name anymore, and I'm not sure what you're saying.
Until it becomes clear.
"I'm sorry… sorry… so, so sorry…"
I wrap you closer to me. I can't manage any words, but you need to know that you don't need to be sorry.
You need to know that no matter what, I could never blame you for anything. That for you, my forgiveness has no limits. That whatever you needed to say, I would listen, and hold you close after.
Because nothing you say or do could ever ruin you to me.
"Can… can I come in?" You ask when you finally stop shaking. Only then do I let go, stepping aside to let you in, and close the door behind you.
But I don't turn on the lights. I don't want you to see my puffy red eyes, or how there's only half of me left.
You don't say anything, and I don't know what to say.
We stand there for a while. I want to hold you again, feel your warmth pressed against me. Those brief few seconds, or perhaps it had been minutes, made me feel stronger than I had in months.
Like you know I need you, you reach out and take my hand. It's warm, soft.
"You're cold, Yang," you whisper to me. Even in the dark I can see the outline of your lips as they say my name.
These days, I was always cold.
You sit on the bed, and pull me with you. Like a puppet, I follow. I can't think, I don't know what to do. Don't know what to-
"I don't know what to say." You steal those words from me. "I don't know what I can say to make up for what I've done… and I don't think I ever can."
I want to tell you that there's no need. But those emotions I've shoved down for so long are boiling to the surface and I don't trust myself.
Here in the dark, I can almost forget you're there. I can feel the icy shadows creeping over me, their tendrils threatening to pull me back to that empty void where there was nothing. Where I just stared at the wall, and I was nothing.
But there's your hand, in mine, and I clutch at it like a lifeline.
When the words come, I can't stop them.
"I'm scared,"
It should be a simple thing to say, but the words tear at me as I desperately try and cling to them. I've never told anyone that before.
"All the time, Blake."
You squeeze my hand and it's the only thing that stops me from being drowned.
I can feel your palm on my cheek now, and I press against it. It feels so warm, so alive. Tangible.
These past months, nothing has seemed real, and even now I can't bring myself to fully believe you're here. But for a moment, I don't care.
"Me too," you say.
The words fade away, and the silence stretches out. This isn't how it used to be. I'd say something, make you laugh, make the fear go away.
But that was then, and this is now. And I can't do it anymore. I've forgotten how, and I don't think I'll ever remember.
"You're probably tired." You say, your hand loosens in mine and I panic, grab it more tightly. "I should probably let you get some sleep."
The cold creeps into my toes, begins to chill my stomach. You're leaving again.
But you don't move, your hand is still in mine.
"Blake…" Your name is hardly there, I don't know if you hear it, but you must have, because you turn back to me. "Please stay."
You lay down, and bring me with you, you let go of my hand and in the dark I can't see you. I start to curl into a ball, but my leg brushes against yours, and suddenly your arms are around me, and mine around yours.
We say nothing. I'm not sure if you're awake. But you're there, and the ice is gone.
Clutching you, I finally feel the sleep that had evaded me for so long began to make my eyes heavy. Just before they close, I hear your voice again.
"I won't leave, I promise."
AN Bumblebee. Because who doesn't need to procrastinate nanowrimo? Cheers,
Unjax