It's been a long time since I've actually written anything, so this is mostly an attempt to get back into sync with writing. It's a short one-shot centered around Mylene and Shun with references to Spectra, based on the song "Hallelujah" by Rufus Wainwright. Read on!
Silence.
It was the chord that Spectra enjoyed more than the faint whisper of power. It meant utter dominance, a lack of resurgence.
A lack of resistance.
And in the few moments that the chord played—after an explosive brawl or after the takeover of a world—he was at his happiest.
She learned this quickly, applying her knowledge to gaining such moments in an attempt to play that fated chord one more time. It wasn't just her own drive pushing her forward but that of the king. She wanted that chord desperately—because it would make him proud. Because maybe just once there wouldn't be the sting of derision to his words. Because she wanted to feel it, too—that surge of self-importance that came after achieving absolute silence.
There was nothing else she wanted from the melody of her sharp, deadly grace and rough character. She could settle for nothing less.
Shun was just the opposite.
He listened.
It was more out of habit that he picked up on the sounds around him than out of free will. It suited him fine either way. To him, it was a gift. He enjoyed making out the ballad of a still forest or of a sleepy city just as he enjoyed an adrenaline-drenched medley in battle.
This ability allowed him to drift from situation to situation, feeling the wind and the music flowing through him. He'd heard the crescendo of the Vexos as they rose to power, nearly unstoppable. He'd heard the music slow and quiet until the melody faded out of earshot.
And in the end, there was only the king—the defeated king in red, shedding his skin. He morphed into a being of brown and blonde, the glint of power still strong in his eyes, but the chord long gone. Instead, he praised what overthrew him, and she watched with deaf ears.
Hallelujah.
-X-
He didn't need to help. It was against his better judgment to reach out to others, especially his enemies. But he believed she could change. If the king could do it, why couldn't she? He wanted to believe that her tune had changed from one of selfishness and scorn to one of honesty and trust.
But he couldn't.
He wasn't so blind as to believe that people changed overnight or that there was inherent goodness within everyone. No, he wasn't that naïve. So he didn't. Instead, he looked for proof, anything solid that would assure him he was making the right choice.
It didn't go at all how he'd planned.
He found her on the roof, her back turned to him, a waterfall of moonlight cascading over her. She didn't notice his stare, how he watched the beams of light trail down her blue locks or how he held his breath as her cape fell from her shoulders and pooled ethereally at her feet.
And in that one moment, as she turned her head to meet his enthralled gaze with the most vulnerable look he'd ever seen on her, he believed. For an instant, he was right.
But as soon as he looked away, it was gone, her vulnerability replaced by volatile coldness.
"I don't need anything from you, especially not your pity," she spat, taking the words he'd been about to offer and breaking them in front of him. "I know you don't really care. It's just an act! So why don't you keep Spe—"
She stopped, then continued slightly quieter.
"Why don't you just keep him and leave the rest of us alone? We don't need you."
"You don't understand," he began to say, but she was already gone. He strained to hear the sound of the wind through her cape, but all he could hear was hallelujah.
-X-
The light blue walls of her room reverberated with the echoes of her screams. She was so stupid, so easily fooled. Of course he didn't really care about her. How could he? He was the hero and all she could be was the villain. It didn't matter how long he spent trying to convince her to join his side or how often a look of genuine concern crossed his face.
He was just like all the others.
She had to admit, he'd been a great actor straight from the beginning. She remembered how fairly he'd treated her, welcoming her with open arms, both figuratively and metaphorically. It'd taken a long time to get to that point, but she finally broke and she let him win. She was now theirs, and things went well, at least for a while.
But she's never had such great luck, and she knows that as some sort of penance, she'll never experience true happiness.
So he turned his back. On her past, present, and future. On her.
What else could she do but accept it? She knew it was coming, knew that he'd never really stay with her because she never gave him the chance. She always figured he was too good to be true, and he'd proved her right, if only just one time. And although it was her fault he gave up on her, she couldn't stop blaming him.
Now she only had the memories she wanted to forget and the feelings she wanted to tear out of her heart. Because no matter what she said to herself, she couldn't deny that he'd left her with more emotions that she'd ever experienced in her life before him. She couldn't see herself in the mirror anymore. She only saw amber eyes, empty promises, and a word.
Hallelujah.
-X-
He could remember the time when she didn't have any reservations in talking with him. It was almost so long ago that the details of the conversations faded but the meaning was there.
She trusted him.
And then…nothing.
It was almost like it was a game to her. A tug-of-war. He pulled and pulled to get her closer, hoping against hope that she open up just a little, enough to give him an opportunity. She, on the other hand, pulled and pulled, trying to make him give in first. But they were an even match, and so instead of continuing a pointless game, she just let go.
He fell faster and faster, never quite hitting the bottom, and she watched. He plummeted into the darkness that separated her from him, understanding that it was a wall he'd never break through. Even when they were close, an ocean raged between them.
His only choice was to acknowledge it, breathing in the poison she offered. With every breath, he heard hallelujah.
-X-
Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it wasn't his fault and they could've created something great. She'd never know now, though, so she didn't look back. Instead she inhaled the night air, whispering words that she hoped would drift to his ears one day. Apologies and confessions. And maybe a twinge of realization.
Her lyrics danced on the wind and in the world-weary finale she declared, "Hallelujah."
As always, reviews and advice are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
Cocoacharm15