To be honest with you all, I don't even like this fic. I don't like the way it turned out. I was depressed as hell when I wrote this, after a particularly bad situation that I had to face the night before. I don't know why, but I opened up Microsoft Word and just began to type and this is what happened.
Something to be noted here is the fact that the fic isn't meant to be making much sense. It's MEANT to be illogical, in the way in which when one is extremely pissed off, everything seems so logical when really to an outsider's mind, it make no sense at all whatsoever.
Anyway, with that said, I hope you enjoy this a lot more than I did.
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But most of all, enjoy.
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Devil's Drink
I never thought really, that it was going to be this way. That all my happiness would eventually be turned into something sour, into nothing but raw hate.
When I was happy, God it was beautiful. I felt light-headed all the time, I felt as if the whole world had turned brighter somehow, as if everything had become suddenly beautiful overnight. All the things in the world that once got me depressed or filled with anger soon became mere trifles, and it felt as if nothing could possibly go wrong to dent this feeling of well-being.
How little did I know…
You think you know a person and then suddenly they turn around and they show a completely different face to them.
When I married Dante, he was good and kind, he was everything you could possibly ask for in a man; he had wonderful characteristics that no other man I knew had. His compassion for life was unparalleled, not even by myself, and he was funny, without even trying to be.
He'd stopped using his clichéd lines, had stopped hiding under the defence they gave him and became more open, as if there were no longer any need to pretend to be cool.
I think I found this was the "coolest" thing about him. That he had finally become somewhat comfortable with himself.
Talk was cheap. Actions spoke more clearly than words at times and it seemed that Dante had finally begun to realize this.
I felt as though he had grown up, just as how I had.
Yeah, Dante wasn't the only one who had undergone a change, I had too. My anger was no longer there, and I finally felt at peace with myself, and at peace for everything I stood for.
After the events that had happened, and after my vow to kill every single demon, I had struggled with myself internally. I had made a vow, were exceptions really allowed? I had made a vow, but did it really forbid me falling in love with one? And technically he wasn't exactly a demon, was he? He was more human than demon any day, that was for sure.
Silly little arguments, that no longer seem as though they're coherent, but at the time it seemed as though the arguments for and against made absolute sense.
The internal arguments I'm having now will always be coherent.
I don't know what caused Dante to change exactly, I don't know why things became the way they were.
At first, I didn't notice anything. Just thought that he was becoming more withdrawn, more irritable, and becoming increasingly reluctant to go out. Unless it was to a bar or something.
I thought nothing of it, just thought that maybe he was just revealing a side of him he didn't feel comfortable showing to anyone else.
You ask me, "why on earth couldn't you see it?"
Have you ever heard of the saying "love is blind"?
Yeah, it's true.
Love blinds people.
I couldn't see what everyone else could see.
When someone first suggested that maybe I ring "AA", I gawked at them, not being able to understand what exactly they were getting at. I thought at the time, that they were making some sort of joke that only they could find hilarious.
Then the yelling and the cursing began.
I noticed we were getting short of funds, I noticed that we barely had enough to feed ourselves. Business was good, Dante was going out every night because his phone rang. But then I began to notice something odd; that he didn't smell of blood when he returned.
Then came the night when he went out to go on a job and he forgot his sword.
I knew then that the business wasn't doing well at all. There WAS no business.
He drank our money as though it was water.
I asked him about it, about where our money was going, and he suddenly got defensive. I was never one to back down from a fight, not even when I was a kid and so, I decided to press him further, to try and get to the bottom of this. I was met with more resistance.
Then he hit me.
I left immediately.
If I had been a lesser woman, if I hadn't had faced the tough challenges I did when I was seventeen, I don't think I would have left, I wouldn't really have had the guts.
It's ironic really that I can thank my father for one thing.
That he taught me never to take shit lying down.
As for Dante? I haven't spoken to him for years, haven't called him, haven't dropped by. I haven't even sent him a Christmas card. I don't have the energy really.
I don't know what he's doing with himself.
I don't even know why he started drinking.
And now?
I don't think I can be bothered to care.