A/N: Why I made this, I do not know. I just did and I think it was interesting to explore this sort of stuff. Plus it was taking up file space. :P

But I do need to write about more...chipper and positive stuff. Good thing Christmas is coming up! Oh and it's autumn/fall. I just LOVE writing for those seasons.

Till the next update,

D.L.D


Some Mistakes Get Made

They had almost gotten married. Almost.

Everything had been set: family had been contacted and plans had been made; but of course someone got cold feet. Or rather, he got cold feet. One day he was there and the next Elizabeth found a note that seemed all too blunt and all too emotionless to be Meliodas she knew. To be the man she was so very close to marrying. And yet he was missing; he wasn't there and every time she tried to contact him she'd end up getting more and more questions than answers.

But whether it was truly Meliodas or not, his actions left Elizabeth with a bunch of cancelled plans, enough dismayed family and friends to fill a field and a chest that felt so heavy it could sink into the bottom of the ocean. The pain alone she felt from it all could drown her. Swallow her up in a dark sea that was too thick to swim nor float out of.

And she personally would prefer that to this. To this pain of being jilted at the alter. This pain of having to call your family to tell them the wedding's off, only to end up breaking down halfway through the call, causing your sisters to come and watch you through the night. This pain that left her feeling like she was missing something most nights, her mind always wandering to the one person who caused all of this trouble.

Yeah drowning in an ocean seems a lot better than that. Way better.

Maybe that's why Elizabeth was hesitating to open the door, to see his face once more and hear his side of the story. To know why, just why, he had to do it right before their wedding day. Why he chose to do it before a day where everything would more or less be irreversible. Everlasting. Cause it was. It was irreversible and now everyone had to deal with the damage.

Everyone but him.

And she wanted Meliodas to know that wholeheartedly. She wanted him to know that this was all his fault.

She wanted to him to see the destruction he'd caused.

He sat there at a table, idly fiddling with something as he seemed to watch time pass by. But even so he noticed her instantly, magically, his whole being perking up at the familiar sight of her form.

His eyes locked with hers.

Elizabeth couldn't deny that she still felt her stomach flutter. The gravity, the traction, behind that gaze was enough to make her mind and senses swim with endless thoughts and desires; but even so she couldn't succumb to them. She couldn't think of how much she wanted to hold him close and never let go of the warmth he brought; nor could she imagine what it was like to breathe in his familiar scent, or move to run her fingers through his coarse hair that shone like the sun.

She could only stare and bite her lip, her stomach twisting as her mind reprimanded the rest of her body.

"You actually showed up..." Meliodas breathed, seeming unbelieving as she sat across from him. She knew she wasn't meant to hear that, the faint tint to his cheeks betraying that he'd caught his own slip up. But even so Elizabeth noted the reaction. She noted his awe and gladness.

But even if he looked cheery and presentable right now, Elizabeth could tell Meliodas hadn't slept all that well. It was obvious after having known him for so long - loving him for so long. The faint shadows of lost sleep ghosted his face and she could see a dull edge to his usually grassy gaze. Plus something just wasn't adding up here: something seemed off.

"Well unlike you I stick to commitments," Elizabeth spoke coolly, purposely, noting that her words were harsh but true. She felt her heart sink as Meliodas pulled a guilty expression, the crinkle of his brows making her aware of his distress. His remorse. Something she believed he would've shown a little earlier, or perhaps even made a little more apparent by leaving in another way. Or just saying that he didn't want to get married.

But Elizabeth knew that last part wasn't true. Meliodas had wanted to get married. They had both wanted to get married. It was something they'd discussed, agreed on, and we're nearly on the way to doing. They were taking baby steps, moving on from the last fiasco that had gotten in the way.

But then he had to get cold feet and write that stupid letter.

And he knew that. Meliodas knew that she was angry with him for this.

"Look I know I messed up - " The blonde quickly goes to explain, but Elizabeth skillfully intercepts.

"This isn't a chance to magically fix things," The woman reminds, her tone calm but also not entirely submissive. Her blue eyes cautiously catch his, betraying the emotions she has swirling within them and vice versa.

Her stomach clenches.

God it hurt so much to do this.

"I know," Meliodas answers simply, admitting to what he'd done.

"And you can't try to justify yourself," Elizabeth admonished, trying not to lose her gall to get out the rest of her speech.

"I know," Meliodas repeated, his green eyes sincere as he answers.

"You probably have no idea - "

"Can I at least explain myself?" The blonde man huffs, annoyed at the fact that he now can't justify himself. Not that he thinks he deserves to be defended. He had done a heinous act by leaving Elizabeth in the way he did, but he had to. He had to leave before things got worse for her and she would make the biggest mistake of her life. The last thing Meliodas wanted to do was make her cry, make her feel terrible over someone like him, but he had to do that.

He had to abandon her to keep her out of harm's way.

And she wasn't letting him explain that.

"I'm listening," Elizabeth whispers the words, her cheeks tinted pink as she casts her speech aside. It wouldn't have gotten far anyway, because she knew Meliodas could be a stubborn bastard when he was ready. Oh he could be a right stubborn ass.

"I couldn't marry you, Elizabeth," Meliodas lets the words out as if it were a fact, a statement, and that made Elizabeth's heart sink. It made her already small hopes shrink all the more. After all, she had always thought he had wanted to marry her. She'd thought that it was what they'd both wanted.

But clearly not.

"Then why didn't you - "

"I couldn't marry you because of my father," Meliodas finishes, short and simple, before she can spew more nonsense that would make this mess all the more tangled. He pulls a grimace that matches her own, both parties falling silent as their eyes meet.

That was the problem: Meliodas' father. Suddenly a lot of this was beginning to make sense in Elizabeth's mind, her understanding of the situation being furthered just a little. After all, Meliodas always wanted to make sure Elizabeth wasn't entangled with whatever his father was involved in. She had always theorized that his father was a bad man, the sort of man who committed acts that were simply unthinkable, but Meliodas never liked to talk about it. He always told her not to worry about it.

But over the years, Elizabeth had learned bits and pieces. She learned about how Meliodas and his brother had been involved in the family business from a very young age; learned of how self defense and knowledge of weapons came in handy; and also came to understand why Meliodas never liked for her to get too close to his jaded past.

"Your father?" The words leave softly, whispered, her blue gaze softening just the littlest bit as she regarded the blonde.

He nodded.

"Yes," Meliodas answered dryly, grimly, his eyes darkening a smidgen. He then glanced at her, and she knew what was going on behind those darkening depths. She knew what he was trying to block out: that side of him that held emotion. "I just - I wasn't thinking straight and before I knew it wrote that stupid note and left. I didn't want to hurt you, I didn't want to cause a whole shit storm of events. I just thought leaving was the best thing to do."

She could tell he wanted to cry, most likely spent most nights thinking about it. Leaving probably hurt Meliodas just as much as it did Elizabeth, the female knowing that mistakes can often lead to such emotions and thoughts. She knew that he hadn't meant to just run away, but that other side of him, the efficient and precise side that had been trained to take over the family business, had taken over when Meliodas heard news about his father. It often did when he was mentioned.

It always did.

"What made you think that was the best thing to do?" The words leave gently, wispy, like a ghost or a soft hush. Tears shine in her blue eyes, forming but not falling as her whisper speaks more than her shouting ever could. It conveyed a lot more than it ever could.

And that's when Meliodas realised the weigh of his actions. That's when he realised that he had truly fucked up. He had truly done the opposite of what he had intended.

He saw the pain. He saw the conflict swimming in her eyes as she tried her best not to cry, not to break down and probably yell every word that he deserved to hear. That he had expected to hear when he had told her why he had so stupidly walked away.

But instead of anger, Elizabeth showed sadness. Pain. She showed a mixture of both love and a sense of never being able to forgive and forget. Or rather, the time being too early to even consider moving on. She was too hurt, too upset, to really think of healing. Of trying to make amends.

And it showed with how she looked at him. How she turned away and spoke in a voice as soft as the lips of which they passed from.

But even when she looked so conflicted, even when Elizabeth looked so desperate for an answer he wanted to give, Meliodas couldn't. He couldn't give a straight answer and neither could she. None of them could because none of them knew what was best. None of them knew anything about this jumbled jigsaw that made up their complex relationship. But even so those words didn't fix anything. They didn't automatically make things ok. They could only give Elizabeth the closure she needed, the missing perspective that she lacked over the past few nights.

And even if it left her with more questions than answers, she was glad that she had sought him out.

She was glad to know he cared.

That he at least loved her as much as she did him.