Ruin and Revival

Chapter 65: No Love

AXEL

I watch Arika dodge the man's kick, my stomach turning when his foot makes an impact with her arm. She grunts, stumbling backward, returning yet again to the stance I had taught her a few hours before, as resilient as ever despite her swollen cheek and cracked lip.

Tuck your head in and lift your arms up. Stay light on your toes. If you want to survive in the big, bad, wild we call the real world, Princess, you are going to have to improve your hand to hand combat skills. That had earned me a glare that would scare off most grown men.

"Stay more centered. Keep your core firm and more on the defense." I use my hands to adjust her small waist, grinning as her muscles tighten under my grip. Her breaths come in short, rapid gasps, months of being stuck in this underground cave tending to the wounded instead of creating wounds. But as I stare at her expression now, so cold and grave, I miss the gentler girl I first met her as. Back then, although she had been more as physically capable, she had a contained compassion that had always made me feel more comfortable, more relaxed. A place next to her was a place where I could let loose and be myself. Now, all I see is an iron-hearted soldier who didn't give a damn about anything. Her sole purpose is avenging the dead. Arika now had nothing to lose, no one left to cherish, no one left to give her love. It consumes her, becoming all that she is, transforming her into a savage beast. You could bring her back.

I lean into her ear, my hands lingering on her waist, savoring this incredible contact I may never experience again. What are you doing?

"Enjoying this?" I whisper. She freezes, before turning around, revealing a cunning smirk, her eyes glinting with desire.

But not love. No, she had none left. My heart sunk deeper into my chest until I felt like screaming, like ripping my own eyes out. You let this happen.

"Look. I know you can't keep your hands off me, but I'm training right now. Save it for later." Arika pries my fingers, smirking the entire time while staring at me through her fluttering eyelashes until my heart beats are so deafening that my head spins and my mind is on the verge of shutting down. I let go abruptly, having to back away from this she-devil's tricks before I make a mistake I will regret. She's not herself right now. Arika raises her brows in disappointment before rolling out her neck, resuming the same stance only to come crashing down moments later.

With every passing day, she sustains less damage, each time leaving the rink with fewer bruises and more confidence. She adapted and evolved until she became a living streak, faster than sin and as alluring as the night. Solder after soldier tries their skill against her and each thud to the ground within minutes. Arika beams at the pile of unconscious men before her, resting her delicate but lethal hands on her hips. It has to be because of her Awakening. I've never seen someone learn such complex maneuvers in such a short amount of time.

"Imperator. Care to spar with me?" She brings her fist up, her smile relaxed and fearless as she licks her full lips in anticipation. I crack my own knuckles, my blood already boiling.

"Don't get too full of yourself just because you have been training under me for 2 days and suddenly think you can beat-" She strikes before I finish my sentence. I dodge the parry, but realizing too late that it was a feint, impacting my head. But the hit is soft, unlike the killing blow I expected. I take advantage of her hesitation, grabbing her fist, pinning her to the ground within seconds.

Our faces are so close our noses almost touch, her breath mingling with mine. Arika's hazel eyes are wide, her lips and cheeks a rosy red, so full of vitality and life. Her hand rises ever so slightly from the mat, as if to stroke my cheek like she used to on those nights by the beach. But instead, I feel a rough push on my arm.

Get off of me. Her expression seems to read. I swallow the hurt that felt like a terrible blow to the gut, immediately releasing my grip on her arm, cringing at the red marks I leave on her skin. I lay down beside her, listening to the thumping of my heartbeat, of her erratic breaths.

"Were you going easy on me?" She doesn't respond, just stares up at the ceiling.

"Are you alright?" I ask quietly, the confidence that seemed to exude out of Arika just a few minutes ago now completely gone. I turn to my astonishment to find tears running from her eyes, silent yet steady. I sit up abruptly, her eyes shimmering so joylessly.

"Hey. Don't cry." I try to comfort her, but I know I am one of the reasons for her tears and I despise myself for it. I want to reach out and squeeze her hands, to laugh at the way mine completely covered her tiny fingers, just like we used to.

But I don't. I couldn't. Not yet.

So I continue to hug my knees awkwardly, unable to help her.

"I think that's it for me today. I'll see you tomorrow morning." Her voice is shaken and low. She gives me an unconvincing grin before I watch her go without uttering a word, her boots thudding softly onto the stone floor.

"Arika, wait!" I call out at the last second, running my hand through my damp hair. She turns solemnly, her shoulders sagging, her hair long and unruly. I approach her calmly, placing a gentle hand on her arm and lifting her chin up toward me. God, that face, those eyes. Every inch of me aches as I restrain myself from holding her close and never letting go.

"I know you want to tell me something. Don't be afraid Arika, please." I whisper dejectedly, grasping desperately to the last parts of Arika before they were consumed by grief, or anger, or whatever demon possessed her these days, missing the many late night conversations where we would talk for hours about nothing yet everything. She narrows her eyes at me as if she was studying me

"Maybe some other time, Axel." I flinch at the sound of my name from her lips, something I hadn't heard in so long, didn't know I needed to hear until now. For the first time since the incident months ago, she seems to utter that name with a resonance of love, not rage or enmity. A peculiar sense of melancholy washes over me, dousing me in its sensation.

"Get a good night's sleep. We leave three hours before dawn." She dips her head slightly in acknowledgment before trudging toward that tiny, grim room right across from my own. The last thing I see is a look of anguish covering her face.