The first time she sees him all she can think of is how different they are. He’s cocky and arrogant, the center of attention, and she’s still the girl in the shadows. She watches him, because everyone watches him. And yet the more she watches the more she’s intrigued by this self-assured boy who is really still too young to die.
They end up training together at one point, him still the center of the attention, his sword cutting gleaming arcs through the air above his head, and her in the corner throwing knife after knife into the center of a target, until the fabric is torn away but she just continues to throw.
They get put in the same training sessions more and more and she’s sure that if he’s noticed her, it’s only in passing as “that girl with the knives”. She watches him though, the way that his laugh will right out across the wide room as he slices the heads of plastic dummies, the way the other boys look at him with jealousy in their eyes, the way that his mouth curves up at the edge when he catches them looking. But she also notices the way sometimes he will just stare off into the air before he realizes what he’s doing, how he opts out of the small amount of time they’re permitted with friends, how he too prefers solitude.
Late one night she comes across him sitting in a hallway, her hallway in fact, his head in his hands. She's not surprised to see him there because by now she thinks she has him more figured than out than he has himself. She sits down next to him and he doesn’t lift his head, just mumbles something into his hands. She doesn’t respond, just continues to sit there next to him, staring at the wall across from them.
“I said go away”, he bites out, finally raising his head to look at her. When she turns she can see the tear tracks on his face and the hatred in his eyes.
“No”, she says. And he just stares at her as she wonder when the last time someone refused him was.
“We’re more similar than you might think”, she says as she stands up to walk away. “You’ll see.”
A year later her name is called out and no one else dares try and take her spot because by now she has earned her reputation as the girl with the deadly knives. He volunteers, his voice steady and sure, cutting through the silence after the original name was drawn.
He meets her eyes as they shake hands and that hatred is still there, just beyond the firm conviction that this is where he is supposed to be. She just grins at him.
They end up training together at one point, him still the center of the attention, his sword cutting gleaming arcs through the air above his head, and her in the corner throwing knife after knife into the center of a target, until the fabric is torn away but she just continues to throw.
They get put in the same training sessions more and more and she’s sure that if he’s noticed her, it’s only in passing as “that girl with the knives”. She watches him though, the way that his laugh will right out across the wide room as he slices the heads of plastic dummies, the way the other boys look at him with jealousy in their eyes, the way that his mouth curves up at the edge when he catches them looking. But she also notices the way sometimes he will just stare off into the air before he realizes what he’s doing, how he opts out of the small amount of time they’re permitted with friends, how he too prefers solitude.
Late one night she comes across him sitting in a hallway, her hallway in fact, his head in his hands. She's not surprised to see him there because by now she thinks she has him more figured than out than he has himself. She sits down next to him and he doesn’t lift his head, just mumbles something into his hands. She doesn’t respond, just continues to sit there next to him, staring at the wall across from them.
“I said go away”, he bites out, finally raising his head to look at her. When she turns she can see the tear tracks on his face and the hatred in his eyes.
“No”, she says. And he just stares at her as she wonder when the last time someone refused him was.
“We’re more similar than you might think”, she says as she stands up to walk away. “You’ll see.”
A year later her name is called out and no one else dares try and take her spot because by now she has earned her reputation as the girl with the deadly knives. He volunteers, his voice steady and sure, cutting through the silence after the original name was drawn.
He meets her eyes as they shake hands and that hatred is still there, just beyond the firm conviction that this is where he is supposed to be. She just grins at him.
Reply
it hurts
this is so good aishfkjahgajk
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment