Crybaby | Michael Langdon

22 - Goodbyes - 22

It was barely morning when a blonde man and a dark haired woman could be found sitting on a deserted beach.

Marie absentmindedly sucked on a small plastic spoon as she looked at her naked feet buried in the warm sand.

"Urgh, maybe ice cream at seven in the morning isn't a really good idea." She groaned, nauseous.

Michael chuckled. "Nobody forced you to eat that much."

She pouted. "I couldn't choose." She muttered, and his lips curled into an endeared smile.

"And now you're going to be sick, loser." He muttered in feigned annoyance.

"Hey!" She bumped his shoulder with hers, earning a laugh as he shook his head.

Suddenly she shifted to lay her head on his lap, her body lying on the side in the sand, not caring about it getting on her black dress, the shawl still resting on her shoulders.
A few seconds later she felt long fingers brush through her hair, tugging gently on her scalp.

They lapsed in silence as they enjoyed a moment of peace, the only sound coming from the waves crashing on the shore and the wind ruffling their hair.

"I... Uh.." He hesitated. "I met your dad."

This immediately caught her attention as she shifted on her back to meet his eyes. "What?" She asked, ink black brows knitted in confusion.

"He summoned me while I was going to hell..." He then began to explain everything that happened to her. From describing what her dad looked like to the future that was supposed to happen and the bond they shared.

She had barely blinked while he spoke, and when he was finally done retelling everything he held his breath, nervous about her reaction even if he let nothing show.

Suddenly she narrowed her eyes at him. "So not only did you meet my dad before me, but he also made me for you? I smell favouritism. Not cool man."

"He didn't make you for me, only the bond." He said as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "He might be a bit of a... Strange character, but I believe he genuinely wanted a kid. He was too scared to see you."

"A being thousands of years old is too scared to meet me, sure." She muttered, her tone dropping with sarcasm.

He smirked. "Oh, belive me you can be scary when you want to be. I still haven't forgotten that time when you threatened to stab me with a fork. That was hot, to be honest."

She slapped his arm, and he laughed loudly. Their eyes met, glimmering with laughter, relief and love.

Suddenly his eyes turned strangely serious. "Marie, I want to promise you something."

She pursed her lips, betraying her nervosity. "You don't need to promise me anything." She said in a soft voice.

"I do." He responded. "I know that you wanted to descend into hell to find your mother."

Instantly her eyes avoided his as she shifted her gaze towards the sky. Probably an attempt to conceal the tears welling up in them.

"I already know what your promise is going to be." Marie murmured. "I can feel your guilt, it's painful."

He realized only now that he had been blinded by rage and pain, and he had decided to lash out and latch on the first hand that had been offered to him. He had been feared, pushed away, manipulated, used, all causing him to hate the world and to want its destruction.

And when he touched rock bottom he had unknowingly dragged Marie and her mother down with him, and Anne didn't make it out alive.

"It wasn't your fault, Michael." Marie sighed. "That woman was the one that shot the gun. You tried to protect us."