Ash for Stars
"What will you do when it rains?"
He tried to sound brave, but he was trembling as much as she was. His hair glistened against the dying embers, illuminating his hair in a rich, glowing red. Streaked with dirt and blood, his hair fell in lumps against his forehead, resting above his brows. The yellowed bruise decorated his cheek, the edges lined with vivid purple.
"Think of you." Her voice soft, eyes watching his chest as it rose with every laboured breath.
"Why?" He was equally as soft, peering up at her. His fingers clenched around her wrists, grimacing at the pain. Her hands were pressed firmly against his abdomen, disregarding the hilt protruding from him.
"Because…" she murmured, searching for the answer, "I would think about how the water will never wash away your blood off my hands."
"Good." Smiling faintly, he nodded, "At least you would be safe."
"Don't be ridiculous." Brilliant eyes flashed, anguish shining through the unshed tears. She ran her tainted hand through his hair, observing as he sank deeper into her thighs where he laid his head. "You and I both know I won't be safe."
. . . .
Scorched petals fluttered around them and they froze at the shouts and yells in the distance. The smell of charred bodies wafted towards them through the shattered window, making her gag in disgust.
"We could pretend."
"You wish."
His sickly pale face pouted and for a brief moment, a look of childish innocence flashed over his face and she wondered what could have been if the circumstances had been different. Perhaps they could have been more than just enemies on the battlefield. She reached out and traced his cheek bones down to his jaw with a shaky finger, leaving a trail of smeared blood on the side of his face.
"Just pretend everything will be alright." He whispered hoarsely, eyes locking with hers.
Her heart twisted and thudded in her chest. "Alright," she breathed.
The ash danced mockingly in the breeze.
. . . .
"That was stupid." He commented dryly.
"You fucking asshole." She gritted out, growling as the pain intensified in her shoulder. "If you hadn't been so fucking useless, I wouldn't have gotten shot at!"
"You didn't have to tackle me."
"They were shooting at us, you dumbass."
"And here I thought you wanted me dead."
"Shut the fuck up."
"You have a bad mouth."
"I was shot at, you idiot." She snarled, clenching her eyes shut, clawing at her arm.
He chuckled and mumbled out, "I know."
. . . .
"Why didn't you let me get shot." He asked, breaking the tense silence. It had been a little over an hour since they had last spoken, each in their own little world of pain.
"I don't want you dead."
"But you stabbed me before. Pretty sure that counts as wanting me dead."
"I know." It was a short and simple answer, offering no emotion or further explanation.
They fell back into silence.
. . . .
"It's a shame we can't see the stars."
"I've never seen them. The sky is always covered by the black clouds." She let out a huff of air and lay down next to him.
"The village I came from had this mountain." He told her, "Once every few weeks, I would hike up the mountain and you would come to this spot. The clouds seem to part and you can see these beautiful diamonds in the sky. They would twinkle and it looked like the night sky was something a princess would wear." His voice was soft and he lulled her into a trance with his words. "The sky was black, not like the grey of clouds, but black so deep, so unfathomable, that you could lose yourself in them. But the shining lights would guide you. I never wanted to leave the mountain."
"I wish I could have seen them. They sound magical."
"You would have loved it."
"Maybe tomorrow, you can show me."
The silence returned for they knew tomorrow was as likely as seeing the stars.
. . . .
"I didn't want to be the one to tell them that you were dead." Her mattered hair fell around her in tangles. It wasn't exactly a confession, but she had to tell him. He had to understand.
"Your family would have been free." He protested weakly, coughing up blood. His body jerked and his ribs screamed in agony. He spat the blood onto the cracked tiles of the abandoned flower shop they took refuge in.
"But you would have been dead."
"If it meant you would be safe, I would gladly die."
"I couldn't kill you. I never wanted to kill you."
He smiled at her, eyes glazed, ignoring the burning sensation in his abdomen and replied, "I know."
. . . .
"I hate you." She croaked out and let out a half-hearted glare.
He gave her a humourless laugh. "Oh I know." He reached for her and she buried her face into his shoulder and sucked in a shuddering breath. His arm draped over her waist as they lay semi-buried in the debris. "I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear, his breath sending shivers down her neck.
"Don't be. I shouldn't have been so selfish." She mumbled out, "I made you suffer."
"I didn't care. I was with you."
"You're a fucking sap."
"And you love it."
She laughed breathlessly. "Unfortunately, that's the truth."
. . . .
As they held each other, they knew they wouldn't live long enough to greet the sunrise.
. . . .
But somehow they felt content.
. . . .
AN - Hello everybody. This was something small I came up in one night. It's an expansion to one of the scenarios I wrote in Of Worlds and Meetings. It's something different.
Please tell me if you enjoyed and feel free to leave any suggestions or criticisms. Until next time, stay safe.