(no subject)
She hates that you're leaving. She hates that you're young and strong and ready to fight. She knows that there's a war on, that every available person is at the front. She's heard the rhetoric, cheered at the rallies, waved her little paper flag at each announcement of victory. Still, she hates that you're leaving. Desperately, she begs you stay, to betray your country through inaction (and it won't be betrayal, not really, and besides, don't you love her more than you love what is in the other, nothing more than dirt beneath your feet?) to fake illness or poor vision or somehow, some way, any way possible, not leave.
She asks why you'll do it.
You reply: For duty.
You speak to her of duty, of patriotism, of needing to do what's best for the world, not what's best for her, you claim that some causes are worth dying for and that every soldier who died so far has had someone who mourned their loss. She retorts she doesn't care about any of them. Only you. Always only you. The world can be destroyed for all she cares as long as you will be by her side at that final moment. Love is supposed to conquer everything, and she doesn't understand why it can't do something as simple as keep the two of you together when you both love each other? You kiss her, promise to always love her, and thinking her to be resigned to your fate (not even her fate, you're the one who will have to fight and risk your life) you drop off to sleep with her still in your arms.
The next morning, a burning pain in your eyes wakes you. Blinking, you try to open them, to find that you cannot. Warmth spills onto your face and when you touch your skin, it's sticky with blood. Blinded, you know who must have done this, and scream for her. She answers, and it's her turn to soothe you now, to rock you in her arms and kiss your lips shut so that you stop sobbing.
You ask why she did it.
She replies: For love.
She asks why you'll do it.
You reply: For duty.
You speak to her of duty, of patriotism, of needing to do what's best for the world, not what's best for her, you claim that some causes are worth dying for and that every soldier who died so far has had someone who mourned their loss. She retorts she doesn't care about any of them. Only you. Always only you. The world can be destroyed for all she cares as long as you will be by her side at that final moment. Love is supposed to conquer everything, and she doesn't understand why it can't do something as simple as keep the two of you together when you both love each other? You kiss her, promise to always love her, and thinking her to be resigned to your fate (not even her fate, you're the one who will have to fight and risk your life) you drop off to sleep with her still in your arms.
The next morning, a burning pain in your eyes wakes you. Blinking, you try to open them, to find that you cannot. Warmth spills onto your face and when you touch your skin, it's sticky with blood. Blinded, you know who must have done this, and scream for her. She answers, and it's her turn to soothe you now, to rock you in her arms and kiss your lips shut so that you stop sobbing.
You ask why she did it.
She replies: For love.