Maleficent & Diaval: A happily ever after?

Chapter 3

"Mistress, I have a question." Diaval abruptly paused behind Maleficent, who continued to walk on, ignoring him. "Mistress, I have a question." Diaval repeated, and Maleficent grew a little impatient, "Go on. Ask away."

"Why are you so aloof these days? I can hardly understand what you're thinking anymore." Diaval asked, and Maleficent shrugged him off, walking even faster than before. Jogging behind her to regain his former pace, Diaval called out, "Mistress, you haven't answered my question yet."

"I only said that you could ask the question, not whether I would answer it." Maleficent spoke without turning around, her staff starting to shake as her hands trembled, but she still chose to advance, leaving Diaval behind her. 

"Mistress, why are you avoiding my question?" Diaval struggled to catch up to Maleficent's long strides, and she coldly replied, "I believe I only allowed one question to be asked, and not two or more."

Grabbing her wrist, Diaval yanked Maleficent back, much to her surprise, and her wings spread out as her staff dropped onto the floor. Unfortunately for Diaval, he had used a little too much strength, thinking that she would have resisted him, and the distance between them was almost negligible as Diaval stared into Maleficent's green eyes.

Pulling her wrist back, Maleficent saw red. The only time she had been this close to a man was when Stefan kissed her on her 16th birthday. And that was far too bitter for memories' sake. "You-" Maleficent growled, her anger rising, but Diaval was not one to put up with her anger too, seeing as how he had grown accustomed to it over the years.

"Maleficent. Stop denying it. I know why you're being so aloof. You're scared that the gift you have bestowed upon me will enable to leave your side, aren't you? You don't want me to leave, do you?" Diaval barked harshly, his dark black eyes filled with rage, and Maleficent felt this weird heat rising up her neck, up her collar.

"No. That isn't true-" Maleficent denied, but she was interrupted by Diaval losing his temper, "It is true! Stop denying it! I'm not Stefan! I will never, ever, hurt you. Why are you so afraid???" 

"Because I don't know! I don't know what I'm feeling! I don't know what you're feeling! I'm unsure of everything, okay?" Maleficent screamed, and Diaval stared at her eyes that were now leaking tears which flowed down her high cheekbones.

In silence, Diaval stared at his mistress, the unusual lifelessness of the Moors broken by the crying sounds of Maleficent's breath hitching, and Diaval could see the cracks defining her heart, left behind by the cruel Stefan. She never wore her heart on her sleeves, and it was so fragile, like a porcelain sculpture that would break.

Wordlessly, Diaval reached towards her, to pull her into a hug, and Maleficent didn't struggle. For she was tired, of resisting her emotions, of being afraid of loving someone because of her past. And so she closed her eyes, breathing in the warm smell of morning dew that still hung onto Diaval's coat in the peaceful night breeze.

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