Challenge Post - 224
Challenge: [224] Sublunar
Title: Everything You’ve Never Had
Wordcount: 592
Notes: Naminé, Marluxia, Saïx, and things lost-but how can you lose what you’ve never had?
The fake moonlight that illuminates the evening sky casts a sickly glow over the grass and the flowers and her skin, too; it makes her shiver for some unknown reason, and she draws her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them as she studies the source of the light-it’s fake, too, in a sense. It’s not what it should be.
“Do you find it to be beautiful?” His words drip from his lips like steel wrapped in velvet, and she shivers again for other reasons-reasons that she doesn’t understand.
(He never allows her to step foot outside the castle unless he is with her).
“This is what you’re trying so hard to obtain?” she asks, voice quiet. “That misshapen object that pretends to be a moon but isn’t? It’s not right.” She’s never seen the moon before-not the real one, but she has drawn it (in secret, and has hidden it, because she knows he would take it away, like he’s taken away so many other things).
He half-smirks down at her before kneeling so that he can whisper against her skin, and it’s poisoned honey: “That, my little flower, is the key to getting ourselves hearts.”
She can’t imagine Marluxia with a heart-can’t imagine him as any being other than what he is now, but she knows that he was different, once. Knows that she somehow was, too. “Do you miss it?”
She knows that he understands what she means, but his reply is not an answer; it is a question: “Do you miss freedom?”
But she does not remember freedom. She only remembers this castle and his rules and his blueblueblue eyes and his wicked twisting smile and his hands and his teeth and his tongue and his soft hair trailing along her skin.
“I have never had that,” she responds honestly, not looking at him. “How can I--”
“Miss what you’ve never had?” he interrupts, and his smile shows teeth. “You can’t.”
Somehow, she knows that he’ll make certain of that.
~*~
Much later, the same heart-shaped moon is in the same sky, but it is different now.
The one that holds her gaze now isn’t him, but there’s an empty look in his yellow irises, and it seems all too familiar.
“Why are you here again? Are you lost?”
“No,” she responds quickly. “I… like the flowers.” They’re still here, even though Marluxia is long-gone.
“What have you lost here?” he asks her, and she flinches-doesn’t answer that she’s lost everything she’s ever known (but has never had) here. Instead, she asks him the same.
“He’s not himself anymore-not since he returned from this place,” he tells her.
“Who?” she asks, but he doesn’t reply, and so she guesses, closes her eyes and sees orange and yellow and redredred and then green, and when she opens her eyes, she says: “Axel. You’ve… lost him?”
He laughs, and there is an edge of madness to it. “You can’t miss what you’ve never had, can you?”
It is her turn to be silent. She doesn’t know what to say.
“We aren’t so unalike, are we?” he asks her, so soft and predatory and just like but nothing like him. “He wasn’t ever yours.”
She touches one of the roses-pricks her fingers on the thorns so that she bleeds. “No.”
And she wonders why the pads of her fingers don’t hurt. Wonders why her empty chest does.
She wonders how she can miss what she never had to begin with.
----------------------------
I’m not sure this is how I originally intended for it to turn out, but… oh well. There you have it. XD;
Title: Everything You’ve Never Had
Wordcount: 592
Notes: Naminé, Marluxia, Saïx, and things lost-but how can you lose what you’ve never had?
The fake moonlight that illuminates the evening sky casts a sickly glow over the grass and the flowers and her skin, too; it makes her shiver for some unknown reason, and she draws her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them as she studies the source of the light-it’s fake, too, in a sense. It’s not what it should be.
“Do you find it to be beautiful?” His words drip from his lips like steel wrapped in velvet, and she shivers again for other reasons-reasons that she doesn’t understand.
(He never allows her to step foot outside the castle unless he is with her).
“This is what you’re trying so hard to obtain?” she asks, voice quiet. “That misshapen object that pretends to be a moon but isn’t? It’s not right.” She’s never seen the moon before-not the real one, but she has drawn it (in secret, and has hidden it, because she knows he would take it away, like he’s taken away so many other things).
He half-smirks down at her before kneeling so that he can whisper against her skin, and it’s poisoned honey: “That, my little flower, is the key to getting ourselves hearts.”
She can’t imagine Marluxia with a heart-can’t imagine him as any being other than what he is now, but she knows that he was different, once. Knows that she somehow was, too. “Do you miss it?”
She knows that he understands what she means, but his reply is not an answer; it is a question: “Do you miss freedom?”
But she does not remember freedom. She only remembers this castle and his rules and his blueblueblue eyes and his wicked twisting smile and his hands and his teeth and his tongue and his soft hair trailing along her skin.
“I have never had that,” she responds honestly, not looking at him. “How can I--”
“Miss what you’ve never had?” he interrupts, and his smile shows teeth. “You can’t.”
Somehow, she knows that he’ll make certain of that.
~*~
Much later, the same heart-shaped moon is in the same sky, but it is different now.
The one that holds her gaze now isn’t him, but there’s an empty look in his yellow irises, and it seems all too familiar.
“Why are you here again? Are you lost?”
“No,” she responds quickly. “I… like the flowers.” They’re still here, even though Marluxia is long-gone.
“What have you lost here?” he asks her, and she flinches-doesn’t answer that she’s lost everything she’s ever known (but has never had) here. Instead, she asks him the same.
“He’s not himself anymore-not since he returned from this place,” he tells her.
“Who?” she asks, but he doesn’t reply, and so she guesses, closes her eyes and sees orange and yellow and redredred and then green, and when she opens her eyes, she says: “Axel. You’ve… lost him?”
He laughs, and there is an edge of madness to it. “You can’t miss what you’ve never had, can you?”
It is her turn to be silent. She doesn’t know what to say.
“We aren’t so unalike, are we?” he asks her, so soft and predatory and just like but nothing like him. “He wasn’t ever yours.”
She touches one of the roses-pricks her fingers on the thorns so that she bleeds. “No.”
And she wonders why the pads of her fingers don’t hurt. Wonders why her empty chest does.
She wonders how she can miss what she never had to begin with.
----------------------------
I’m not sure this is how I originally intended for it to turn out, but… oh well. There you have it. XD;