XIII.
Misfortune
"Sometimes I wonder if it's all really worth it."
Fingertips lightly dabbed at the open split that ran across the curve of his cheek; watching as the white rag between her fingers began to dye itself red with the streams of blood that ran free. She didn't ask for this and she wasn't there to help but… still part of her felt responsible for the abuse that stained his skin purple and black; for each separation of flesh that rolled with fresh droplets of blood; for the fractured and broken bones that lined down the protective curve of his chest. Who was she trying to kid? All of this… it had been because of her; he was just trying to defend her and defend this strange obsession between them.
It didn't matter if he won or lost the fight; it was misfortune that kept her from defending them just as much.
"Sometimes it feels like you're fighting for this more than I am."
A light chuckle escaped him as he slowly opened his eyes as best he could; his right eye was bloodshot from broken veins and ended up with a split eyelid that could barely move. "You can actually stand to be around me for more than a few minutes… I think that's a fight in itself."
"It's your addicting personality." she remarked as she carefully moved to clean away the blood that emerged from his busted lower lip; part of her felt a little annoyed with the injury that might possibly hinder their embraces for a short while. "We both lack proper social skills that help us connect with others; we both prefer isolation and solitude over social interactions; we both… tend to evaluate situations that do not directly need second guessing on."
"Sounds pretty accurate." he replied as he carefully touched at his open cheek; fingertips feeling where the flesh peeled itself apart to expose thin muscle walls and nerve endings. "But as much as we like to think we're compatible… others seem to share different options. Technically, we're as polar opposite as black and white is- ironically enough actually; hence why our two kinds aren't liable for this kind of relationship. Hence why… the others are definitely not happy about this."
"Last I checked, we weren't out affecting anyone directly."
"No, but the thought alone is enough to be direct." he commented before he moved to push aside a stray lock of hair. "This isn't the worst condition they've put me through though, so I suppose I have that to be thankful for."
"And I as well." she reminded. "Although the broken ribs may be slightly hindering…"
"I'll fix them later." he started as one hand touched at the misplaced shapes of his ribcage. "When I actually get around to getting back up."
She touched at the small section of shredded flesh along the curve of his jawline on one side. "That might be quite awhile…" she took the bloodied rag in hand now and discarded it with the others as she reached for a clean one now; taking note of his lack of a response only to realize he had either passed out or fallen asleep on her. Shaking her head, she traced fingertips through his hair and softly kissed at a partially bruised temple.
One day.