GoT (shorts): Faith

The princess's faith was akin to a sinuous river. She relied on her faith to keep her strength during her difficult years. Without it, she would have withered. Bäahal prayed for her mother, for as long as she could remember. She prayed for her good health when she was still a little child. She prayed for her mother when they both became slaves. She wanted her mom to survive the ordeals of slavery so they could escape together. She prayed for her soul when her mother was executed, hoping that in the afterlife she would be happy, healthy, and without any trouble or pain afflicting her. She prayed for Daenerys and her success in her endeavor for the crown. She prayed for Jaime when he left King's Landing, hoping for the Golden Lion to survive without his twin sister and the ushering of the new era. She prayed for the peasants and townfolk she protected during the siege, hoping that none of them would die from starvation. 

Had she prayed for herself? A few times, yes. She prayed for her survival and freedom. She later prayed the gods to protect her loved ones, because she didn't want to lose any of them, including Jaime Lannister. She prayed to be reunited with him when she spent months looking for him. She prayed for her survival during the siege, because she wanted to see Jaime again. She wanted to go back to him. No matter how fluctuant her faith was, Bäahal found herself returning to it when all hope was lost. It was a way to fuel her soul so she could keep pushing forward. it was a way for the princess to renew her motivation and to find the strength to move forward. So, today, on the anniversary of her mother's death, the princess was kneeling in her room, humbling praying to the gods to have mercy on her mother's soul and to take good care of her soul. She wished that if there was another life, they could meet again and be mother and daughter. 

KLASMA: eternity

One of the witch's pastimes was to sit at a café and watch humans go about their day. She enjoyed watching humans as they lived without a care in the world, unable to know when their time would come. It was something she envied them, the ability to enjoy even the smallest things, because they didn't know if it would be their last. She envied their ability to die of old age, which was something she was denied. Nëela was immortal, and no matter how she tried, Old age wouldn't be what claimed her life.  It would be murder. It would be a fight. It would have to be violent, which she wasn't looking forward to. It made her chuckle to herself, that little paradox her existence was. She both wished her life was shorter so she could enjoy it to the fullest, but wasn't ready to die either. Every time someone tried to take her life, she always fought them, and they ended up dead. So, that betrayed a deep desire to live. She always knew this. She wanted to live.

She sighed, leaned into her chair, and crossed her legs. Her golden eyes stared at the crowd that had gathered on the street to watch a street performance. She couldn't help but smile as she watched children running around, laughing, and clapping their tiny hands. It made her nostalgic. There had once been a time in her life, before the curse, before the deaths... where she wished she would become a mother. She had dreams of a faceless kid with curly hair just like his mother, running freely into the wheat fields.  This fantasy of hers vanished from the moment she was turned into a cursed witch. She couldn't... She couldn't fathom giving birth to a child who would not be an immortal. She couldn't fathom the idea of that child growing up, growing old, and dying of old age without the possibility for her to join him in death. She didn't even know if her curse would allow her soul to rest in the same place as her child. It made her blink, and before she knew it, Nëela was crying. 

"Why the long face, love?" -Klaus's voice tore her out of her daydream. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and plastered a sheepish smile on her face-

"Klaus! I didn't... expect to see you here... Today I meant. I didn't expect to see you today!"

"It's the effect I have on people. I hope I didn't spook you?" -He asked while taking a seat in front of her.

"I'll be alright. I was just enjoying my day. They look so innocent like that..." -She sighed and looked down at her teacup.

"They have no idea of how their lives would end. I have to say, sometimes I think that it must be nice to be oblivious about one's fate."  -He then stopped a waiter and ordered a coffee- "Is that why you're in such a sad mood, love?"

"Am I sad? Where?" 

She tried to force herself to keep a neutral face, but her eyes betrayed her sadness. His other senses picked up the change in her body as well. The witch was upset, he could tell, but she was taking it in stride.  There was a melancholy in her gaze that made his heart sink. He hated the sight. Nëela knew Klaus could read her like an open book and ended up pinching her lips together. She then put both hands on the table and tried to give him a crooked smile. No. It wouldn't do! She was not in a good mood, and she didn't have to pretend everything was alright. He watched her facial expression change and adjust to fit her mood. 

"Now we're talking. This is far more honest from you than whatever fake smile you tried to conjure up earlier on."

"I do not like to be seen like this. I did not want you to see me reflect on eternity and wish I had a human lifespan. It is not fair--"

"Nothing is fair!" Klaus interrupted her, slightly irritated by her choice of words. He understood why she was saying this, and it was a reflection they all had at one point in their lives. He was a little bit of a hypocrite because this very thought crossed his mind more than once, but coming from her, it felt as if she didn't want to spend eternity with him anymore. He jumped to conclusions, and she realized he was getting upset himself at a very fast pace.

"No! No, you took it the wrong way. I am not saying that I would give anything to become human again. This ship has sailed a long time ago. I am at peace with my immortality."

"If you were at peace, you wouldn't be thinking about how you wish you had a human lifespan." -He spat at her. She rolled her eyes and shook her head- "What? Tell me I'm wrong, love!"

"You are wrong!  I was reflecting on my immortality, the good and the bad. You can't sit there and pretend that you didn't think of what your life could have been if you had a human lifespan. You can't sit there and pretend you didn't wish you could grow old with the people you fell in love with! You loved, Klaus. You wished. You dreamed! I am also allowed to share the same considerations, am I not?" She furrowed her brows and kept going, signifying that it was a rhetorical question- "Being immortal has its fair share of pain. You know that! For the longest time, I was resentful because I couldn't have children and watch them grow old and die before I do. I was resentful because anyone I would love would either die of old age or have their lives cut short.  I was resentful because I couldn't die unless it was a violent death. I couldn't die and join them in the afterlife because I am cursed. I couldn't die.... And I didn't want to die either! I fought tooth and nail for my survival, Love. I fought so hard to take yet another breath, and look at me! Look at us!" She put her hand above his. He was tempted to remove it, but he left it there-

"What about us? Do you regret being immortal so you could be with me?"

"No! Silly! No! I do not regret it! If anything, loving you makes it all worth it. Loving you gave my heart somewhere safe to be. It made me feel alive again! It gave meaning to my existence. I love you. I protect you. I will go above and beyond to help you. Loving you for eternity feels like a gift the universe gave me after centuries of suffering." -He relaxed and gently grabbed her hand.- "I might have my regrets, things I need to come to terms with because my nature as a cursed witch prevents me from doing certain things... but... I am happy, Klaus. It's messy and confusing, but I am certain that I am happy!"

She watched as he pulled her hand to his lips so he could press a kiss to her skin. His eyes scanned her face, searching for a tiny bit of hesitation, but there was none. She was sincere. As a matter of fact, she was always telling the truth, but Klaus couldn't help himself. Hard habits were hard to kill, weren't they?

"I might have overreacted, Love. I apologize for that." He admitted. It was rare enough for Klaus to apologize, so the witch didn't tease him. She simply smiled at him and gently stroked the back of his hand-

"It's okay. I am not upset.  I just mourn the life I'll never have and the one I lost. I am not going to dwell on it, don't worry. Now that you're here, I will focus on you instead. How did you find me?"

"You left quite a trail, love. I only had to follow it if I wanted to find you." -He grinned and pressed another kiss to the back of her hand.- "Besides, I wanted to see you."

Nëela grinned, her gaze averting from the children to Klaus's face. He looked sharp this afternoon. Instead of his cotton long-sleeved t-shirts and his jeans, he was wearing nice linen pants, a white polo, and a pair of linen shoes.  He lifted a brow and looked at her with his blue eyes look at her. She looked like a doll, with her thin-strapped white stars and blue dress. Her hair was tied in a loose high ponytail, and she had slipped her feet into a pair of black stilettos. When he woke up alone in their bedroom, he found her note stating that she had gone downtown for a walk.  He let her enjoy her morning and focused on his own, but he quickly felt the need to find her. Klaus didn't want to admit to himself that he enjoyed her company. 

He enjoyed her laughter and their little banters, and he wanted to enjoy the sunny day with her. He searched for her and, upon seeing her, couldn't help but smirk to himself. He was happy to see her smile, happy to hear her voice... They were dealing with a lot right now, a rogue witch who threatened his witch and his family. They were dealing with troubles, so this little walk outside was a way for the two of them to get a break from their trouble. He almost ruined it with his short fuse, but she managed to turn it upside down.  His free admission of wanting to see her brightened her face, and she couldn't help but twirl a rebellious pink lock that fell on her nose. 

"Well... The day is still young, and I think we can have a good time today. I'll let you pick where you want to go and we'll do it."

-TBC-

 

Colby: Drinking

"Don't look away. Keep your eyes on me." I whisper in your ear, my fingers play with your shirt and gently stroke your chest as my green eyes stare at your face. I order, I command, but deep down I can feel shivers going down my spine and fear creep into my heart. I worry about you. I always do. I trust that you will come back to me, alive, so I can hug you and I could kiss you but there are days when I'm not so sure that you are okay. We all carry our pain, we all hurt inside. You lost your mother, your girlfriend, your wife, your brother... you lost a lot of people and you've witnessed the horrors of war, horrors I've never seen because I wasn't on the battlefield. 

I never had to take a life before so I can't fully understand what you're going through.  My mother never loved me, I knew pain until I held my son in my arms. I lost him and sometimes my heart breaks because I remember him. I saw the boy of my late husband, riddled with bullets and face down in a pool made of his own blood. I drank. I used to drink myself to sleep. I used to hide there, in the glass of bourbon or whiskey. I used to forget through the bottle. "Don't look away. Keep your eyes on me." Tommy... I need your arms around me. I need your warmth. I need to hear your heartbeats. I need to hear your voice. I don't always ask, I don't always need... but there are days where I cannot function. there are days where I can't leave the bed... days where all I feel is pain. I don't want to depend on the bottle to soothe my heart. I don't want to drink myself into oblivion. I want to remember... I want to remember your laugh..your smile.. your scent. I want to remember you. So, please... Hold me. Hold me tight. 

GOT (regular): Mother

Thinking about how she wished her mother could attend her wedding.  Thinking about how she wished her mother could see that she was free now, with family and people who genuinely loved her and cared for her. Thinking about how she wished her mother could lead her to the altar, entrusting her into the hands of Jaime Lannister. How she wished she could tell her mother that she loved her.

Bäahal knew that her mother would be watching from above and was in the merciful care of the seven gods. She could imagine her smiles as her daughter would walk down the aisle and to her husband-to-be Jaime Lannister. Sunni would have smiled. She would have had the biggest smile of the whole attendance. She would probably cry too but Daenerys would so kindly comfort her. 

A wedding was said to be the happiest day of one's life and the princess knew that she would be happy. Her sister, her nephew Jon Targaryen, and her In-Laws Kyra and Tyrion Lannister would be there, celebrating with her, becoming one family. She would be a free woman, a woman who fulfilled her mother's wishes, including the one about making her own future and being the happiest she could be. 

"Mother. All that is missing is you here with me. I know that you're watching after me but I could have enjoyed being held in your arms." That was a regret, a wish she knew she couldn't fulfill. She would make her mother proud. She would wear the Targaryen colors but would add something white because that was her mother's favorite color. Yes...She would make her mother proud.

A vintage touch: His hand on her neck

A vintage touch: His hand on her neck

// I love me some Colby. 

xxxx

Mary was walking in circles in Tommy's office. She was restless and couldn't stop walking in order to find some sort of peace. Moments earlier, Charlie called her "mommy". It came out so naturally from the young boy's mouth that he didn't think twice about it. She didn't have the heart to correct him, nor did Tommy who witnessed the scene at his desk.  As soon as he noticed the young woman's distress, he swiftly took his son's hand and led him outside his office to Frances. He felt a pang in his heart, knowing full well that Mary had lost a son at such a young age. They had not talked about it, nor had they talked about her relationship with Charlie. What was there to say aside from stating the obvious? the kid loved Mary, he listened to her, and he definitely spoke about her to his father.  Charlie knew she wasn't his mother, but he grew to think of her as such. Should Tommy intervene and correct the boy? Did Mary want Charlie to be corrected? He had to know. They had to talk about it. The least Tommy wanted was to upset Mary and his son.  When he returned to his office, he saw Mary who kept walking in a circle.  

"Tommy? I thought you were going to stay with Charlie a little longer." -She gasped and put her hand over her chest.- 

"He is in good hands. I couldn't just leave you alone." -He said in a stern but calm voice. He walked towards the young woman and tried to hold her hand but she rejected him at first.- "Mary!" -He called out her name but she pushed him away again, struggling against his touch- "Mary, you're okay. It's just me! you're okay." -He repeated, soothing her with his voice, the hold on her arm still strong. She looked at his face, her green orbs shifted from left to right as she wasn't sure what to make of his intentions. She stopped struggling when he grabbed her other arm and forced her to look at his face- "Mary. You're okay. I am here. Talk to me."

"I....." - She was still baffled by the whole situation but quickly enough, the fact he was so close to her face, his warm breath over her, the gentle touch of his calloused fingers on the soft skin of her arm relaxed the young woman who looked up to Tommy's face.- "He called me Mommy, Tom. you heard it as clearly as I did."

"I did." -Her green orbs shifted from left to right, looking for any sign of rejection from the Gypsie King.-

Tommy Shelby was a man hard to read for the untrained eye, and even those who practiced the man, decoding was not an easy task.  He meant his word in a nice way. She didn't see anything but concern for her in the eyes of the man and that brought her some relief. Tommy wasn't upset that his son called her "Mommy". He hadn't thought about it, to be honest, he had not imagined that his child's tongue could slip up the way it did, but it was bound to happen, wasn't it?  Mary was taking care of him and the two of them had built a very strong relationship over the years spent together. It made sense that she was a mother figure at the very least, that showed that their bond was strong and true. That showed some sort of truth regarding the love she had for his son. It was genuine, enough for the child to consider her a suitable mother for him. 

Tommy gently cupped her cheek with his large and calloused hand. Mary leaned into his touch and closed her eyes. She sought his touch, his comfort. She sought a way to ease her mind. It caused a whiplash, a sudden reminder that she had lost her son and couldn't bring him back. Her hand still touched her belly, rubbing it nervously as if she were pregnant with her son again. Paul was gone, the poor thing only lived for 30 minutes in this world, bringing both joy and immense pain to his mother. She never thought she'd hear a child call her mother. She never thought she'd crave that emotion. She'd never thought she'd want to be called Mom, to be a mother, to have her own child.  Where did she stand in Tommy's life? Part of her feared she was nothing but a replacement for Grace. She was there to raise his child and bring him comfort while he mourned for his late wife.  She feared that her feelings were unrequited, which was one of the reasons that kept her from claiming her love for him. 

She couldn't read Tommy's mind, not even when it came to her. Now, his child had decided she was his mother, which confused the young woman even more. Could Tommy possibly want it too? Was he alright with his son calling another woman "mom"? Was he alright with Mary taking that much space in his life? She had no clue. Nothing. She didn't have the key to the safe that was Tommy -which Lizzie gleefully reminded her of-. She only could trust her instincts and trust that Tommy wouldn't lie to her about how he felt. If he didn't want her around him, she would have been gone already. If he didn't want her around him, he would have let her go. He would have let her seek a suitor. he would not have claimed her. but he did all of these things. He did all of it. 

"I guess, his tongue slipped up. He didn't mean those words. I am not his mother. He already has one."

"Charlie loves you. That's all that means. He loves you and I know you love him." -He cupped both cheeks, rubbing the right one with his thumb.- "But you are panicking. What's on your mind?"

"Why are you asking me? Why are you asking, me?" -She repeated, desperately trying not to say the words. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears and she was shaking.- " Tom.. let me go!"

"Not this time. Polly told me how you reacted when the Grace institute welcomed a newborn boy. Now, my son had called you mommy and you're spiraling. you're restless... you're upset. I have to know why."

"Don't you already know?" -She sounded defeated. "You are the king of Birmingham. you know things very few people are aware of. You should know my secret. You should know my pain." -She said, still fighting tears.

"I need you to say it, Mary. You need to let it out. You need to let me know. What happened to you? What happened to you?" -He asked.- 

His voice was just a soft whisper. She didn't want to answer him. She didn't want to let him see the deep scar she suffered from. It was the one thing she never could tell Tommy. yet, he decided not to let her run away this time from him. She would talk to him because he had to be sure that being around Charlie wasn't harming her. His heart started to race against his ribcage as he set his blue eyes upon her lovely face. Her voice shook and she moistened her lips.

"I was a child. Tom. I was but 14 when that bastard got me pregnant. I didn't know how to deal with it. I didn't understand what it truly meant for me, but I grew to love it. The baby inside of me. I grew to love him...my boy..." -Her voice broke down and she ended up crying the tears she had been holding back- "My boy... My boy... he lived for only 30 minutes, Tom. I was blessed enough to be able to hold him until he took his last breath...But I never got to become a mom. I never got to have a family of mine. I just... I didn't even have enough money to bury him properly. Can you believe it? I couldn't... I couldn't... oh..." -She lamented-

Tom held her face firmly, so she could look at him. He wanted her to focus on him. He wanted her to listen to his voice, to his instructions. Tom did what he knew best. He commanded her. He commanded her to listen to him and to look at him. He watched her face contorted with pain, the tears rolling down her cheeks as she was remembering her son. He saw the distress on her face, the same he felt when Grace died. She was in pain, almost losing strength in her legs. She put both hands on his arms and she nodded slowly, allowing him to know that his words were reaching out to her. Mary still sobbed, her chest heaving up and down as she was trying to catch her breath. He placed his hands tightly on her neck and nodded as if he was trying to convince himself (and her) about his next words. 

"look at me, Mary! Look me in the eye!" -She set her green eyes upon him and nodded to let him know that she was listening- 

Her body was still shaking as she was still crying. Tommy hated to see her cry, not because it bothered him, per se, but because he didn't like when she was in pain. He wanted to take that pain away, take it from him so she could smile at him again. His rough fingers slid into her curly hair and stroked the back of her neck. She looked at him and chewed at her bottom lip.  he could see how scared Mary was and the sobs she couldn't hold back. She nodded and squeezed his arms harder. 

"Mary...You know Charlie. You know the boy. He loves you and calling you mommy is the way he shows you that love. I am not mad at him. I am not mad at you. You care for Charlie. You love him and he loves you and that's all that matters to me. He is a happy and healthy boy and he makes you happy. It's all that matters." -He leaned his forehead against hers- "I don't mind the boy calling you as he pleases but I see how distressed you are. Do you want him to stop calling you that?"

"No... no... I don't want my precious boy to be frustrated. He can call me Mommy...I just... I was scared you would be upset that he did. I was scared that you thought I wanted to replace Grace. I was scared you wanted me to replace Grace. I cannot be her. I don't want to be her."

"You're not Grace. You are Mary and you are far more than enough for us. You make Charlie and me happy. It's all that matters, Mary. It's all that matters."- He rubbed her cheeks and wiped the tears off of her face with his thumbs. She nodded and pinched her lips together.- Paul..." -She flinched- "Paul might not be here, but he was lucky to have been born to you, Mary. He got to be held by you. He got to be loved. You've got to remember that, Mary. You've got to honor him and look forward to the future and not dwell on the past."

"it hurts so much, Tommy. I...It just hurts but you're right. I cannot be crying for the loss of my son until my last breath. I will honor him, the best way I can and..." -She sobbed and wiped some tears off of her face- "And if Charlie wants to call me Mommy, then he certainly can. He's my boy too, after all. He's my boy too..." 

She repeated and leaned into his firm touch. She closed her eyes and felt his lips press to hers in a soft kiss. How she had wanted to claim her love for him, to say those words that were threatening to escape her lips. Her heart was beating so fast against her ribcage, the tears were freely rolling down her cheeks, making a mess of her make-up and getting her dress wet from her tears. Her lips trembled, as she wanted to tell him she was deeply in love with him and wanted a life with him. She wanted to tell him that he meant everything to her and she loved his son like her own. God! Please, give her the strength to admit it to him. how she had wanted to give him her heart, but she knew better than to make bold claims when her emotions were all over the place. It wasn't the time. It wasn't the place. None of them would be ready to say it (for her) and to hear it (for him), but they knew. They knew at this instant, at this place, that they felt strongly for the other. They knew they felt more than just comfort, more than just some simple appreciation. They loved each other, they hurt together, they comforted each other, and that afternoon, they were stronger together. He was there for her as she was for him. He was there, and always will be. 

-TBC-

COPG: Breath

Bäahal x Jaime: Breath

A/N : Mood piece, taking place right after their first « night » together.

Xxx

As the princess closed the door of her cabin behind her, she could finally lean against the heavy wooden door of her cabin and look at the ceiling. Moments before, she was in Jaime's cabin, waking up from the sweetest slumber she'd ever had. Moments before, she was in his arms, her lips pressed to his cheek, to his lips, while his arms were wrapped around her frame. For so many months, probably more than a year now, the princess had been longing for the knight's touch. She'd been dreaming for a moment like this and none of her expectations could match reality. The reality was far better than any wet dreams she could have had. A myriad of emotions went through her body and the first reaction she had was to chuckle and smile to herself.

It felt good, to be in his arms, to smell his scent, to feel his stubble cheeks rub against her soft skin. It felt good to be able to press her forehead to his and smile through the darkness as her heart was content and happy. Her heart raced that night, his too... almost matching her speed. Her heart raced for he was close and it felt natural, it felt right. She felt like she belonged there, with him. She remembered holding onto his shirt as she fell asleep, and then knew their bodies parted ways during their sleep but it didn't matter, for the bed, was warm with his presence and he didn't leave the bed when the sun shone brightly.

After the laughter came tears. She realized that she had been deprived for so long from a loving touch that her body was feeling it too. Never before a man had ever looked at her as an equal, as a person. Never before had a man tried to stay with her and talk with her. All of those she used to know only knew how to force themselves on her and dismiss her once their deed was done as if she was nothing but a toy. Jaime was not like this. Jaime was not seeing her as a tool to use, but a person to love and that made her heartache, and rejoice at the same time. She dropped on the floor and wrapped her arms around her legs so she could keep herself together and cry. For so long, she thought it was impossible for another soul to want to be with her. She'd thought, they would never even consider her for how soiled she was. She thought Jaime could see the abuse on her skin, the brand on her shoulder blades, the fact she wasn't pure or proper...yet he didn't seem to even care about her past, or judge her for that matter. All he knew and all he wanted was the woman before her... nothing more, nothing less.. just Bäahal.

As she wiped her eyes clean with the back of her hand, the ebony Targaryen chuckled again, this time with hearty laugh filled with hope. If even the broken princess could find love in the midst of the fire, then everything was possible. She didn't think of what she lost, at least, not as much as before, when she was with him. She didn't think of what she could be, not as much as before when she was with him. She only thought of the moment they had. Of the peace, she felt in her heart when he held her close, of the love she felt for him when she could feel his skin. Jaime gave her something she never thought she could have, a purpose, a future, a solid foundation where she could build a life. Jaime gave her Hope... even before she knew she was in love with him and now that reality was settling in, she realized that she needed that Hope. She knew that they had crossed a line they shouldn't have crossed. Daenerys could decide to never let them be together and when that happens, what could they do about it, if not feel distraught? Bäahal knew they took a major risk, of opening the door to more suffering if they weren't allowed to be together.. but the princess didn't care, for she thought she had earned a few resting moments and peace... and love. After all, she'd just survived a siege, she could have died a few months ago. Why would she deny herself a piece of happiness when death was at the corner? Why would she deny herself a piece of happiness when she could be with the man she loved? She promised Kyra she would do anything in her power not to cause troubles to her family and keep them safe and she was ready to leave Jaime behind if that meant saving his life... but before they came to such extreme, couldn't she just be happy for once? Hadn't she deserved a little bit of respite? Of joy? Of Love? Hadn't they?

-TBC-

I am not waiting for you

There comes the time when I reflect on what happened to us. I realize I allowed myself to dream for just a moment. It had been eons since I felt the warmth of a touch, the warmth of a smile and someone interested in me even if it just was for my body. I felt desire and I had not experienced it for so long that I allowed myself to get drunk with it. I allowed myself to get drunk with you. I want to regret it because ultimately, it does hurt that nothing could come out of it. I won't regret it. I won't because I know that actually was something I needed in my personal life. I needed to feel desired again, to see it first hand and come to realize that yes, indeed, I can be attractive to at least someone. 

I was tempted when I was with you. I was tempted to give into you because I felt that it was right but my mind knew better and I knew I couldn't just do it. I knew I would regret and thank god I didn't give into you. Today, if I had, I would be in shambles. I respected myself, you respected my decisions and I am grateful you did because you saved me the troubles and pain. I am attracted to you, very much so, but I know you're not the right person for me. You're not because..we don't match well. I am not going to elaborate because I don't need to. I just know we're not meant to be and it is liberating and frustrating at the same time. We are not meant to be, you and me and it's okay. I have made my peace with it.

However...While for the first time in a long time, I do know that I want you, I won't be waiting for you. I am not waiting for you. I can't wait for you to sort your life out and come to me. It could never happen and I would have wasted away while waiting for you to make your move. If you want me, you'll come claim me. If you want me, you'll walk the walk. If you want me, you'll make the efforts necessary to be with me. There is no prince charming, there are hard working princes. People who have known hardships, people who do value trust, honesty and truth. People who do value Love when they get it and who are able to give love as well. I have had my fair share of people who were selfish and didn't care about the people who had feelings for them. I don't want this in my life and you know it. I want truth, honesty, and trust. I want you to talk to me when you have to, I want you to open up to me and trust me with how you feel. I want you to come to me when you need to and seek comfort in my arms. I also want to be able to do the same.

And this is why we are not meant to be. We're not because you failed. I don't trust you. I don't think you're honest with me and I don't think you will ever tell me the truth. So it's jeopardized already. I don't think you will walk the walk with me. I don't think you will make the efforts you need to do in order to be with me. I don't think you are ready for me. So it's better if I stop dreaming about it. It's never going to happen and I need to make my peace with it. We just were a dream I am happy to have dreamt. Thank you for all you gave me. That's why I'm not going to ignore what happened.

COPG: -One last time part1-

A/N: Slowly getting to the moment where Pride would have to fight against Leviathan. He's in a very good mood because he finally forged the god-killer sword he so needed to have. He came back to the safe house only to find the Asma he's always known. She is aware of what would come next and feels conflicted about moving on. It has to happen anyway and she knows it, but the last moments together are going to be a little bittersweet. Here's part 1.

xxxxxxx

After a couple of days spent in the Underworld, Pride decided to return to Earth and visit the faithful and very dependent Asma. He had left her alone for quite some time now and was wondering how she would behave when he would see her. Last time he discovered that she had been disobeying him, endangering herself foolishly because she sought companionship. Of course, it had to be expected, she was human after all but that still didn't sit well with Pride. He could have lost her in the blink of an eye, especially since she actually met Envy and Elpis sibling Khrön the messenger of the gods. He had noticed how unhinged and unusual she behaved and it became clear that she was under the influence of someone else than him.

Fortunately, telling him somehow helped Asma return to what she used to be before. A bubbly, loving, forgiving and worshipping human devoted to /his/ well-being. He couldn't enjoy her presence that much because urgent matters brought him back to the Underworld, but Pride was satisfied. He was in a good mood, to say the least because finally, he had a god-killing weapon with him and a matching armor. On top of it, he finally knew where the Dagger of Fate was and how he could undo the curse Elpis was under. The only minor issue was that he had to fight and kill Leviathan but that was on his bucket list so to speak. He had a personal issue with the God since the moment he laid his hands on Elpis millennia ago.

Of course, for Elpis sake, he didn't attack Leviathan when she begged him not to, but the thought never left his mind. Revenge was patient, revenge was sweet and the anger he felt towards Leviathan only fueled his desire to avenge himself and Elpis as well. After all, it traumatized her, even though she pretended the opposite. He still remembered the distress in her face and body language. He still remembered how scared she felt afterward and how he had to be extra protective of her when they met on Earth. It was a trait he kept since he remembered her and he protected her vessel to the best of his abilities. Asma saw the biggest picture now, she remembered every day spent in the presence of the sin and a warm fuzzy feeling overwhelmed her. It was soon to be over. He informed her already, that he would be fighting Leviathan and retrieve the dagger. So her time was up and she had to make the most of it.

He found her in the living room, wearing a large t-shirt of hers and sockets. She was sketching as usual and tried to remember the time she spent with Pride so she could document it for him. It went well as he saw several sketches piling up next to her. She was just about to finish with the most important memory she had of them when he pretended to be her jealous boyfriend for a day and took her to an art festival where she met one of her idols. It made her smile because Pride was very possessive with her and she had never seen him treat her this way. It made her chuckle at the thought of the poor photographer who had no clue about who and what Pride really was. Pride kisses felt good, they were genuine and did send shivers down her spine. Pride's hold on her hips felt organic as well, authentic and she didn't even need to know if he was acting or if this was genuine for to her it felt genuine. She also remembered her own jealousy -that coincided with the arrival of Envy in her life and the fact he was starting to work his magic on her- It felt strange to be this territorial with Pride but she learned how to appreciate it over time. She remembered the Neighbour, Nancy, redhead, beautiful and perfect. So perfect that Asma wanted to gauge her eyes out and burn her hair. Such violence was unusual and definitely a product of her encounter with the sin's sibling.

« I have returned. » Pride announced himself, quietly so, in order not to spook the human who returned to her normal self. She put her canvas and pencils aside and invited him to sit in his favorite chair while she would fetch him a glass of bourbon. He looked good, in a good mood, which pleased Asma who returned with a glass and sat on Pride's lap.

« You seem to be in a very good mood, do you have a good new? »

« We could say so. I have finally forged a weapon capable of permanently killing gods and sin alike. I can finally squash the rebellion against me and get rid of my enemies... and Elpis' » He said, chugging his glass down in one gulp before he pressed a light kiss on top of Asma's head. « How was your day? »

« This is an excellent new! No wonder you're so happy! I am very happy for you Pride. Very. » She said, her smile quickly fading away. « If you have your weapon.. that means you will fight against Leviathan very soon then ?... »

« It seems so. I'm not going to rush into this battle because soon enough he would challenge me. I know he has the dagger, I am ready but I want to spend some time with you before anything else. I promised you. » She bit her bottom lip and looked at his chest to avoid eye contact. Truth be told, as excited as Asma was about seeing Elpis and setting her free, she also simultaneously felt sad because that meant the end was near and she couldn't avoid it. Pride would get Elpis back and would make her forget about him. All those memories she held dear now seemed to beg to be remembered and if she couldn't, then she would need Pride to remember her. He noticed she was sad and gently cupped her cheek. « Don't be sad Asma. You know it's for the best. »

« That doesn't make it easier, Pride. I wish.... I wish I didn't have to do it. »

« I know. » He said, his thumb stroking over her soft unmarred skin. She gave him a tight smile and gently wrapped her hand around his wrist. « But I want you to be happy and to be happy, you need to be away from me. I am a sin and we've seen how easily sins can influence you. I am Pride, the worst of them all...the longer you stay with me, the worse your life would become and I don't want that for you. » He said kissing the back of the fingers wrapped around his wrist.

« I know....it still feels unfair but you're right. It has to be this way. » Her voice broke at her words and she shut her eyes tight, unwilling to look at his face. Pride sighed and cupped her cheek with his larger hand and gently pulled it up so he could look at her face. « You still were the best thing to ever happen to me, Pride. If I could choose, I would still choose you. »

« I know, Asma, I know. »

His voice was softer than usual, there was no need for Pride to be angry anyway. He could feel her emotions since she was projecting so much in the living room. He felt her regret, her sorrow, her anguish and worries about the unknown. She had spent so many months, more than a year actually, by his sides and had gained new habits. Her life went from bland to exciting in a matter of hours and she didn't want to look back to a life that wasn't exciting. Of course, Elpis (and Hope in general) would be back and would restore what was stolen from this world. Fate wouldn't govern anymore and Asma would have a fresh start, but it was still too much for the human who simply didn't want to let him go without at least a beautiful night spent together.

« I have a present for you. Something I have been painting when you were away. » She began as she straightened on him. « It's in your room. Can you teleport us there? » Pride chuckled, his curiosity tickled by her words as he snapped his fingers and teleported them to his bedroom. Indeed, there was a present for him. A HUGE painting of him sitting on a throne made of bones.

It was a work of beauty and it caught Pride's attention long enough for him to take a closer look at the details. It was indeed very detailed. He, himself was portrayed at the perfection. His blue eyes were brighter than ever and the first thing to catch his attention. His hair felt lifelike, he was wearing a black armor with a very interesting design. Sharp and spiked just like his crown was. He never discussed anything with Asma but the fact she was so observant pleased him. He was going to miss that. As his eyes progressed on the canvas, he noticed she gave a very gothic vibe to her painting. All those skulls and bones intertwined to form his throne looked amazing. They were part of the decoration, almost as embellishment like gargoyles on top of gothic churches. He loved to see him smirk on his painting, looking triumphant in front of a crowd made of demons and lost souls and servants who bowed down in front of him. The midnight blue and purple colors were the dominant colors, but touches of white (especially from the lighting that was focused on him) and red (mostly from the floor and the demons) balanced the painting.

« Do you like it? » She asked, her arms wrapping around his waist as her head leaned against his back.

« Very much so.  Thank you. It must have taken you so long. »

« Almost two days to complete the sketches and the rest of the weeks to paint it the way I wanted it to be. It is you in all your glory as I imagine you to be. I don't know about Hades, the Underworld or even how the demons and souls look like, but I wanted to pay homage anyway. You are a king... you are my king. »

He turned around and cupped both of her cheeks. Asma chewed at her bottom lip, her hands still holding his waist as her hazel eyes seemed to glow intensely. She always tried to please him and he was well aware of that fact. She never said what she wanted, except for when she was under Envy's influence and his as well but he knew that she needed more than just a thank you. She had painted her best art so far and he could feel the passion she projected onto her canvas. He could feel the dedication and love she felt for him, as well as that pride of having rendered him speechless. He could see how pleased she was by his reaction and how worried she felt at the same time about tomorrow. So many conflicted feelings were crossing her mind at this moment, but Pride knew better than just remain silent. He wanted to give her back. He wanted to give her a night to remember so he pressed his lips against hers. For a starter.

(TBC)

COPG The taste of heartbreak

A/N: :o all of this is confusing her. she's bending right now but hopefully, won't break. Elpis doesn't know just how complicated this situation would be when she gets out.

xxx

How long could she take it? How long could she go without knowing if he truly meant his words or if he said so because she was carrying something more valuable? She hadn't forgotten how it was when they first met. What he told her when she came forth with her feelings. how much it stung whenever she said "I love you" and he didn't say it back. It was to be expected of course. he told her he would never say it back and he was a man of his word.

So why did she persist? why didn't she wish her feelings away? could she really? could she when her life was threatened by deities thus preventing her from leaving his company? could she when he was so overwhelming and powerful that she couldn't HELP but be drawn towards him? Could she when he was indulging her and she couldn't get away from his kisses and embrace? could she? when they had sex and it was so good, so mind-blowing that for a brief moment she forgot that the sin didn't share her feelings with him? how could she get away from that?

She thought that if he didn't care, then maybe her being courted by other men would leave him indifferent but it didn't. he was selfish. he wanted her for himself. her love, her warmth, her everything had to be for him and him only. The photographer who tried to seduce her, nearly died on that day if it wasn't for her taking Pride away. The singer who wooed her during a show they both attended was shooed away by an angry and jealous sin. Nobody could take her attention from him, and if nobody could, how was Asma supposed to move on from him?

Maybe it just was possessivity because he was a SIN. after all, he was one. THE Pride. mother of all other sins, the worst of the worst. He was... complicated, to say the least, but it didn't excuse his behavior. toxic, possessive, smothering that it was.. how could a fragile flame like her survive? She was hurt and even more because he would not understand just how deeply hurt she was. It wasn't what she deserved. he wasn't what she deserved and she wished that Hope hadn't inhabited her body so she wouldn't dream of being with him. Asma liked it better when only fate dictated her world. She would have accepted the situation and moved on from it. He didn't love her? fine, she would have accepted it. But Hope was a bitch. she was cruel. she made Asma hope that maybe at her contact he would warm up to the idea. to maybe loving her back.

But that would be incredibly naive of her. he didn't, he wouldn't and she would wither away and die inside because he would never let go of her and never love her back. At some point, Hope always turns into despair and she was slowly getting there. May they find a way to bring Elpis back soon. Maybe once it's done and she served her purpose, Pride would leave her alone, empty and devastated because something extraordinary wrecked her life. It wasn't deserved. She didn't deserve to have him happen to her. she deserved better. she deserved to be happy and she really wanted to be. She wished it would be with him but it couldn't be. that's what she knew.

yet he said those words. He said them in a fashion that was odd for him. He cared more than he wanted to admit. He felt something but he didn't want to discuss it. why? why couldn't he? why was he hurting both of them?

So she was confused, even in the middle of kisses shared with the creature she came to love. Each of them left a bitter taste.

The heartbreak taste.

Words that we couldn't say -COPG

A/N: (ost: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PdHHIVMJ_VQ)

It's very bittersweet, bitter honestly but this is how she feels and what she won't say.

Pride belongs to my friend N.

Asma/Elpis belongs to me 

xxx 

There are many things I can't say to you. Many things I wish I could but you wouldn't listen to them. You wouldn't listen to my words because they wouldn't please you. Words always die at the back of my throat whenever I look at you and I want to ignore the gut-wrecking feeling I have but I can't. I roll on the bed, baring my back at you so you wouldn't see my worried face. What can I do? I know you don't want to talk about what would happen to me once we set your beloved free but it's haunting my mind every single time I close my eyes. Would I die? Would I not? What would life be without you in it? I'm burning, like a shooting star, consuming myself in a feeling I know is unrequited. I am in love with you. Don't you know? Don't you see? I feel foolish because I know, I know that we are not the same. You are not human, you can't understand. You are eternal while I'm just a blink in your existence. A moment, a brief breeze over your skin. I'm nothing. Thinking of this, I would definitely rather die than live a life when you're not there. How would I move on without your voice in my ears? Without your arms around my frame? Without your kisses?

I'm not naive, however. I know that our intimacy isn't one. You feel like a forbidden fruit I shamelessly eat but could never satiate me because you are not meant for me. I know. I know you're thinking about her whenever you are with me. I look like her, I sound like her, I am her vessel. I understand. I accepted it when I decided to seduce you anyway. How ironic is it that it's with you, a sin, that I feel the most alive? How ironic is it, that it's with you, a sin, that I experience love? How ironic is it, that it's with you, a sin, that I'm suffering so much? I welcome those feelings, especially if these are supposed to be the last I would ever feel. I welcome them because I'm burning my life by both ends, lit myself like a supernova and go with a gusto. I thought I would be more stressed with a potential death but what truly stresses me out would survive this. You were clear some months ago when I asked you what you would do. You'd leave with her and will never come back to me. You'd leave me.... and I would only have memories to feed on. You'd leave me and I would wither like a flower, unable to find the sun again. I would wither away... You notice I'm taking a little bit of distance from you, which is unusual from me so you glance at me. My lips are trembling, I'm on the verge of crying but I'm doing my best to hold those tears back.

There are things we don't talk about, but I wish I could ask you to end me anyway because there's no life without you. There's nothing without you and once I would have released Hope in the world there would be nothing left for me to do. I want to request you to kill me, with a kiss and take my soul wherever it has to go. There are words I want to say, but I can't say them they die at the back of my throat. There are words I want to say but even if I did say them, you wouldn't listen.

You wouldn't listen.

(TBC)