Envy/Winry, Anti-ship table, "Why: An Epilogue"
Title: Why: An Epilogue
Author: Sofipitch
Disclaimer: There not mine. They were born way before I was old enough to have kids.
Claim: Envy/Winry, Anti-ship table
Prompt: 5-Betrayal
Characters: Envy/Winry/Edward
Word Count: 694-lyrics not included
Rating: PG-13-because of Envy once again
Summary/Warning: He hated her. He loved her. He killed her.
A/N: This is an epilogue of “Words To Be Shared”. I’m getting this done now, because I probably won’t be able to write much. I was working on a big project and all my files disappeared. Now I have to make up for a few thousand words and finish the project, but I didn’t want to just disappear, so I wrote this now.
“This will be my last confession
‘I love you’ never felt
Like any blessing.”
-Florence + the Machine, “Heavy In Your Arms”
Time is an obnoxious thing when you think about it. It always has you on edge, because now that you can measure it, you know exactly how late someone is, how much closer you are to death, and how little of the dimension you actually have. Although I have lived through plenty of it, it always seemed irrelevant to anything having to do with me. I am immortal. I have all the time in the world-literally. It was my mother who fussed over time. My mother is the one who is terrified of time catching up with her, but is also the one who thinks she can beat it. I don’t really care; my fate has already been sealed. I am immortal. I can’t die, so I don’t worry about time.
I’m not patient though. That night I had been expecting her. I had become obsessed with time-the slightest few minutes she was running late had me fearing she wasn’t going to come at all. The night of the incident she had been twenty minutes late by the time I went out to go look for her. I knew of her current residence with the Elrics, so I traveled in that direction, believing it was there she could be found.
I had only made it halfway when I saw her. She was struggling against Edward, pulling in my direction.
I became entranced with the idea that she was fighting to come see me. So I let her try to fight him; I wanted to see her battle her way to me. It made me feel important, more important than that Edward of hers.
But that’s not what happened. Edward kissed Winry. And she succumbed to him. I could see it in her body’s reaction. She was mine, but she let him kiss her.
Rage no mere words could begin to describe flooded my being. I began to see red, which in the darkness of the dead of the night, limited my vision to only her, who had now torn away from her precious Romeo. She still wanted to see me, but now I knew her actual intent. I then felt revolted. I no longer wanted to look at her face, so I focused on the one near to her and made my way down from whomever’s balcony I had watched the disastrous lies I had been told unfold.
I cut Edward in half, right across his middle.
I stabbed Winry in the heart. There she could feel the same pain I currently felt.
She collapsed into a heap at my feet. Dead. And when I looked down at her, blood pouring out of her torso and eyes rolled backwards, I did something I hadn’t done in a long time. I cried. I gathered her dead body up into my arms as I kneeled on the ground, allowing her blood to spill all over me, and poured my heart out onto her, as she did to me, although in a much different fashion. I told her of Hoenhiem and how he rejected me. How Dante and I argued. How I sometimes hated Dante because she didn’t really love me as a true mother should. How I believed when Winry kissed me that someone finally loved me. How I became obsessed with everything about her. How I never wanted her to ever leave me. I told her everything.
I killed her. And I still wanted her to be with me, but I knew now that all her kisses and kindness were fake. I thought the pain in my chest might go away if she were completely gone. But as I smoothed her hair back and closed her pretty eyelids, I wanted to keep her. I still wanted her to be mine. I still wanted to believe I was loved.
I hate myself now, although I still blame it all on her, because I took her corpse with me that night. Leaving a trail of blood-shame-as I carried her back to her previous cell, where I would set her down and pretend she were still alive and listening as I spoke to her.
Actual end.
Author: Sofipitch
Disclaimer: There not mine. They were born way before I was old enough to have kids.
Claim: Envy/Winry, Anti-ship table
Prompt: 5-Betrayal
Characters: Envy/Winry/Edward
Word Count: 694-lyrics not included
Rating: PG-13-because of Envy once again
Summary/Warning: He hated her. He loved her. He killed her.
A/N: This is an epilogue of “Words To Be Shared”. I’m getting this done now, because I probably won’t be able to write much. I was working on a big project and all my files disappeared. Now I have to make up for a few thousand words and finish the project, but I didn’t want to just disappear, so I wrote this now.
“This will be my last confession
‘I love you’ never felt
Like any blessing.”
-Florence + the Machine, “Heavy In Your Arms”
Time is an obnoxious thing when you think about it. It always has you on edge, because now that you can measure it, you know exactly how late someone is, how much closer you are to death, and how little of the dimension you actually have. Although I have lived through plenty of it, it always seemed irrelevant to anything having to do with me. I am immortal. I have all the time in the world-literally. It was my mother who fussed over time. My mother is the one who is terrified of time catching up with her, but is also the one who thinks she can beat it. I don’t really care; my fate has already been sealed. I am immortal. I can’t die, so I don’t worry about time.
I’m not patient though. That night I had been expecting her. I had become obsessed with time-the slightest few minutes she was running late had me fearing she wasn’t going to come at all. The night of the incident she had been twenty minutes late by the time I went out to go look for her. I knew of her current residence with the Elrics, so I traveled in that direction, believing it was there she could be found.
I had only made it halfway when I saw her. She was struggling against Edward, pulling in my direction.
I became entranced with the idea that she was fighting to come see me. So I let her try to fight him; I wanted to see her battle her way to me. It made me feel important, more important than that Edward of hers.
But that’s not what happened. Edward kissed Winry. And she succumbed to him. I could see it in her body’s reaction. She was mine, but she let him kiss her.
Rage no mere words could begin to describe flooded my being. I began to see red, which in the darkness of the dead of the night, limited my vision to only her, who had now torn away from her precious Romeo. She still wanted to see me, but now I knew her actual intent. I then felt revolted. I no longer wanted to look at her face, so I focused on the one near to her and made my way down from whomever’s balcony I had watched the disastrous lies I had been told unfold.
I cut Edward in half, right across his middle.
I stabbed Winry in the heart. There she could feel the same pain I currently felt.
She collapsed into a heap at my feet. Dead. And when I looked down at her, blood pouring out of her torso and eyes rolled backwards, I did something I hadn’t done in a long time. I cried. I gathered her dead body up into my arms as I kneeled on the ground, allowing her blood to spill all over me, and poured my heart out onto her, as she did to me, although in a much different fashion. I told her of Hoenhiem and how he rejected me. How Dante and I argued. How I sometimes hated Dante because she didn’t really love me as a true mother should. How I believed when Winry kissed me that someone finally loved me. How I became obsessed with everything about her. How I never wanted her to ever leave me. I told her everything.
I killed her. And I still wanted her to be with me, but I knew now that all her kisses and kindness were fake. I thought the pain in my chest might go away if she were completely gone. But as I smoothed her hair back and closed her pretty eyelids, I wanted to keep her. I still wanted her to be mine. I still wanted to believe I was loved.
I hate myself now, although I still blame it all on her, because I took her corpse with me that night. Leaving a trail of blood-shame-as I carried her back to her previous cell, where I would set her down and pretend she were still alive and listening as I spoke to her.
Actual end.