A/N: Another unexpected prompt, I guess. I need to work on actually doing my prompts, but recently I've had writer's block when it comes to them. I have ideas and then...they're gone. Like poof. Hopefully I actually write them soon. This one is loosely based, like prose kinda.
Till next time,
D.L.D
This Goddess
Elizabeth's world is filled with flowers. Meliodas' is infested with weeds.
They are complete opposites, two different ends of the same spectrum, and yet they still view the world similarly. They both share a view of light and dark, of dark and light, forever suspended within the ropes of their own complicit natures.
Elizabeth's heart is one many would pine for. His heart is not one she would want.
Hers is a heart of gold. It is filled with sweetness and light and good. Many would cherish and hold such a precious gift, such a delicate and beautiful thing. But of course, in contrast, Meliodas' is a heart of flint. Inside his is filled with darkness, cruelty and evil. Many dark and unthinkable ideas pass through him, thrive within him, and at times he wonders what she would think if she knew. Sometimes he wondered what Elizabeth would think if he tried to show her.
Meliodas was the very thing Elizabeth should avoid; he was the thing that she should run away from, begging to have mercy. Elizabeth was the very thing Meliodas did not need; she was the thing he should hide away from, recoiling from even the thought of looking at her.
And yet, together stayed. Together they did the wrong thing.
Together, the music they made was unnatural. Her high and sonorous tones greatly juxtaposed with his deep and ominous ones. While she was light and perfect and good, he was too dark, too terrible and too flawed to be paired up and jumbled together with her. He was too ruined and tarnished by a brutal reality to belong in a song, in a world, that he shared with only her. Just her. And she always insisted that he belonged there.
She always insisted that she was in love.
Perhaps he was too...
But she can't know she makes him swoon - he'll be seen as weak.
This Goddess. This Goddess. This Goddess. This Goddess. Always making him feel weak in the knees.
No-one else had ever been able to do that to him - stun him of his senses. Yet she always knew how to smile and dazzle him as if it were as simple as merely blinking. All she had to do was speak the right way, look at him and plead, for his usually solid will to crumble. All it took was a single word, a tiny whisper, for him to want to make her happy.
At first, he had considered it as just a silly notion - Elizabeth tricking him in some way. Meliodas was just so used to being certain, correct, that he couldn't assume otherwise. He couldn't consider the idea, the thought, of actually caring about Elizabeth. But over time, Meliodas discovered that Elizabeth was not tricking him. True to her word, she had indeed grown used to his company and enjoyed having him around. She wanted him around.
So he was always caught off guard when she surprised him. He was stunned by the fact that she could actually make him pause, freeze in time, with a just a single question - an insignificant word.
Elizabeth...
She was someone who never failed to surprise nor knock the words right out of him.
Tomorrow, they'll meet at the ruins. Together they'll waste the hours away, running away from responsibility and pretending to be carefree. She will tease him about being so serious, he will counter with the fact she is too polite.
Then, the day's ending. The sun sets.
He would finally run his fingers through her fine silver hair; finally feel the warmth of her heart-shaped face beneath his palms. Her lashes would be close enough to count, and yet he wouldn't care. He wouldn't mind. His hearts would be racing too quickly for him to even think about it. Instead, he would dare to dip his face closer, bring her closer and -
She would totally kick his ass for that.
And yet she laughs, her face spread with a bubbly pink blush as she flashes him a sheepish grin. Teasing him. Humoring him. Gently, she shoves him away and reddens a little more as she tucks a strand behind her ear and bites into her lower lip. The same one he had tried to capture - claim.
This Goddess. This Goddess. This Goddess. This Goddess. Always making him weak in the knees.
One moment she is laughing and smiling and confident; the next she is bashful and shy and reserved. He could never entirely comprehend her, understand her, but he doubt he ever will. He doesn't want to understand her fully, to read her like a book. No, he wants it to be level - equal. He wants that. He wants her.
But he can never let her see him swoon, or else she shall think he is sweet.
