CHAINED FLOWERS ( z. dragneel )

02 | "the companion"

02
{ "the companion." }

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' s h e
w h o
r e m e m b e r s. '

-

SLIGHT TREPIDATION TINGLES HER SKIN, BUT ESEN SHOVES THE SENTIMENT AWAY WITH A SLOW INTAKE OF BREATH. The most obvious choice that lay in front of her like an iridiscent dot in the sky is that she follows him just like the cycle dictates and love him as per the dictation of the cycle that bound her in this perpetual tragedy.

But she is uncertain as to what his identity is. Her past lovers are all stitched with a mild obliviousness and something airy, almost indiscernible, but the weight of the world is on his shoulders and it shouldn't.

But, what if what if what if this is a sign, a harbinger of good fate. What if what if what if the curse is over and she can be with him or other people without having to worry over every little repercussion? Or maybe it isn't but this is a choice, a chance to fix this all for good and maybe she's meant to go with him and smoothen every crease and stitch every ravel that starts to tear. What if, it sounds really crazy, what if they go on an adventure and find a way?

He might have an inkling as to what was happening. Maybe with her amassed experience and the something pooling on the obsidian of his eyes, they'd discover something and fix the pieces of the puzzle that is them?

Or she could just leave him be, mutter an apology about making a mistake and turn her head, her back on hers with those cascading chartreuse locks and the rippling water, one step at a time, moving forward, and away from the cause of all her love and sorrow. Maybe she can get the hell away from him, feet making crunches on the ground as it steps on twigs and verdant summer leaves.

Maybe.

Then she remembers.

The amalgamation of hollow promises and words, screams on deaf stars that glitter like diamonds, ropes twined on necks then snap! And another cycle ensues.

Esen remembers, just like she always does. How he was impaled, hung, burnt, beaten, over and over again in front of her eyes. Bloodstained palms try to reach her, and she doesn't know which moments hurt more. Ones where she reached back only to feel the pulse fading from his wrists and the lazy rush of blood trailing from his cracked skull, pouring crimson eyes to pale, sometimes midnight, other times sunburnt skin or the ones where he reached and reached for something that wasn't there.

"I will always love you."

"I know," she whispers. "And that is what scares me the most."

She doesn't want to hurt this beautiful wonderful boy, but she doesn't know how not to. She could and every deity knows she wants to turn her back on him and leave, but every time she does it, everything worsens.

Maybe this is one of those times where he dies from quick illnesses, the ones where she remembers laughing on his collarbone, pressing kisses to his chin and cheeks and carnation lips, fall asleep with his hand on her hair, her head now resting on her chest and thudthudthud and the next thing she knows his heart has stopped beating.

At least it isn't that painful for him. For her, the broken flower of a girl who is destined for tragedy. It tears her to fragments, like wild beasts ripping their preys to shreds with their monstrous teeth and claws, but it hurts her so damn much. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, and she wants it to stop, but:

"I will always love you."

"I will too," she whispers. "And we are both reflections of our foolish, lovestruck selves."

She will always put him first. Higher than herself and those gods who deserve nothing, but scorn from her icy lips.

( Once upon a time, there was nothing,

then e v e r y t h i n g. )

Esen tears her eyelids open to erase the images flickering in her mind. Words inspiring a certain sort of deja vü, but foreign in ways yet to be revealed. She shouldn't ignore the pressing matter at hand.

( The gods rose to power,
  the gods swore equilibrium
  the godesss craved more,
  the goddess fell from grace, )

Esen bites her tongue, hard. Think, you imbecilic idiot! If she leaves him, his death will be worse and she doesn't want to lay that life on a boy, this beloved boy, who looks every bit fragile and pure, but dark and mysterious.

The last grain of sand falls.
Her time to decide is up.

"I'll join you," she breathes, her voice like the numb you get from anesthesia. The feel of a corpse and that dead leaf swaying on air, in twists and turns. "I will accompany you in your journey. You may call me Esen, your companion."

-

e n d.
[ thank you for reading chained flowers. ]
c o m i n g:
03 | "the foolish girl."

• it's more exposition and foreshadowing lulz. bear with me guys xD