iv.
Air catches in her throat, and her gaze wavers at the sight of a single flame, flickering restlessly at the tip of a candle, and words leave her rosy lips before she can catch herself again, or control her thoughts, raging inside of her mind in a single symphony, tumbling over and over again in an infinite dance.
"You," she breathes, "You're no hero."
And his eyes, oh, his steel, ice cold eyes, they do not waver. They're as sturdy as his grip is, as his fingers, sliding down her delicate skin, attentively and calmly.
And her heart, it aches. Oh, it aches so bad, taking in every piece of hurt, entering her soul upon seeing the man in front of her. In her eyes, he is the epitome of a broken man, his skin is rigid, and his gaze is tired, and yet, burning with infinite idealistic illusions, circling in a brilliant, and yet, tainted with loneliness mind. And in her eyes, the man is a breathing oxymoron, the sun between stars, the darkness between light, a tree between men, growing his roots in wrong and bitter places.
"You're no hero.", she repeats to him, in a bare and skinless whisper, spreading in the space between them like poison spreads in clear water, and his eyes darken. It is barely visible, but the petty light flickers once more, and they both know how easily each of them break, and she breathes as his hands demand silence, as his lips request obedience, as his stare steals breath from her, and she, once again, gives in. Dawn gives him all, over, and over again.
And in darkness, their lips exchange sighs, their breaths exchange names, and her gaze never leaves his. She holds his hand, subtly fragile, and the girl understands – humans are not beings of power. They may be born of demise, and deceit, and pain, but they are truly never fated to be ones holding power. She laces her hands over his, grip returning grip, over his neck, one breath changing another, his chest, eyes trading unspoken and shattering words, right to his heart, and this is where the girl's fingertips stop. And she could not lie to this heart. "You're no hero", words finally escape, and then, in a single moment, his heart, the same heart, beating uncontrollably right beneath her palm, turns. And with it, in the same blinding darkness, a man breaks, once again, slowly and agonizingly, cries echoing between four walls, as he falls right back into his maiden's embrace, right where his heart belongs.