Layers of Dialogue
"Do you love her?" she asks and it's not such a tricky question because he already knows what he is going to say.
"No." But he wonders why she is asking because he thinks it doesn't really matter.
"Do you love me?" And that is a complicated question because he already knows how he's supposed to answer. And he's glad she's not looking at him because her eyes are too tempting.
"No." And he's not sure it's the answer she wants. He's not sure if it's the answer he wants.
"Why?" Because I can't is what he wants to say. But he doesn't. Because he's a coward.
"Because I could die." Or maybe he's brave.
"No. Why don't you love her?" Or just really stupid. And he can't figure out why she wants to know.
"Oh. Ok. Because I can't." And he can't. He really really can't.
"Why?" Because I love you is what he wants to say but he doesn't. Because he can't. Because he shouldn't. She's never been his to love.
"You can't love someone who only loves their family, their honor, and their revenge." And he wishes that were the truth. He wishes it wasn't because she just wasn't what he wanted.
"And me?" Yes he thinks. I want you. But he doesn't say that either.
"What about you?" He asks because he already knows all about her. He knows the scars and the scent and the feel of her. He knows the smiles and the tears and the touch of her. And when she looks at him with desire and want and need he knows why. Because he looks at her the same way.
"What do I love?" Me he wants to say. But he doesn't. Because he thinks there is a chance she might agree with him. And he thinks that would hurt. A lot.
"You love lazy days and quiet nights. You love the helpless and the weak. You love the sad and the beautiful. You love the things that remind you of home." And he wants to smile because she does love all these things. But he doesn't. Because he is the only one who does know all these things that she loves and it's not right that he can't have her.
"And you." And it's a whisper, a softly spoken secret he isn't sure he is meant to hear.
"What?" he asks thinking if he pretends he didn't hear she'll replace that whisper with something else. Something more real. Or something less true.
"And I love you." And this time it isn't a whisper, it's a statement, a declaration. And he knows better than to let it in. He knows better than to believe. Because in this world, with them, it can't ever be true.
"No─ him." And the words are bitter in his mouth, hard and uncomfortable and he has a hard time getting them out. But someone has to say them. Because this thing they are doing─ this ─is only an illusion. It is never meant to be.
"What?" And he thinks maybe she is the one pretending not to hear. But she has to.
"You love him." And he's never wanted that undeniable truth to be so wrong before. Because nobody deserves her. Except he thinks maybe he does because he is dying and he's never wanted anything. Except maybe this.
"Oh right. I love him." And he shouldn't be surprised that it hurts so much to hear her say that. But it does. Every time. Because he thinks that she doesn't believe it so much anymore.
"You should remember that." And he didn't want to have to say that and he wishes that it wasn't really the truth. Because he knows why he was never meant to have her. Because he is dying. And destiny couldn't possible be so cruel as to make her fall in love with a dying man. Except he knows it is.
"Maybe you should remember that." I should he wants to say to her. But he doesn't because he's beginning to think he really shouldn't have to do what is expected of him. Because he's feeling a little bit selfish and because he thinks maybe he shouldn't be the only one not to get what he wants.
"Maybe." And she smiles and he thinks maybe she's being a little bit selfish too. Because she wants what she isn't supposed to have.
"It's just that─" And he doesn't really know what she is going to say and he wonders why she doesn't let him go.
"What?" I love you he wants to say. But he doesn't. Because he knows she would give it all up if he gave her a reason to. And he thinks maybe she deserves more than him.
"Sometimes…" I see you in my dreams hewants to say because he wonders if she sees him too.
"You forget?" he asks instead, except he never forgets. That's his problem. He thinks maybe when he does die he will see her face and her smile and just her. And he thinks maybe he's going to hell because he's messed everything up. Everything.
"Yeah." She says, and she reaches for him with trembling fingers and wide eyes and he lets her. And he knows he's going to hell because she isn't his and because he's ruining her and everything she is supposed to be.
"Me too." And he knows he shouldn't have said that because it's wrong. Because he knows that things in hell burn and scream and hurt so much more.
But he's beginning to think that maybe the road to hell is its own reward.