She doesn’t hate him though, could never hate him. They were too much the same (and so entirely different) with hearts meant for anguish and darker things. Their shadows bled together, shadows that weren’t cut by the light of Ilka, of Oksana. Reshaped, reformed, though neither ever meant to. Her aching heart stills against his side, and when she looked into the dark of his eyes she was unsurprised to find not an ounce of pity. Like knew like and their torments bled together.
“Do you really believe that, dad?” Her voice is hoarse, stretched miles too tight by the burdens pulling her soul in every which direction. “She will never hate you. She’ll only ever hate the way you hurt her.” But there’s something else that flashes darkly in those emerald eyes, a secret she crushes before it has a chance to make itself known. “But I’ll never tell her.”
She could feel herself being smothered beneath the weight of each new secret.
Her eyes close and her anguish is a raw flash of pain across the indigo and black of her strange face. “I can’t do it.” She whispers, gasps as though a blade has buried itself in the soft of her narrow blue chest. “I don’t know how to live when everything hurts so much.” Her words comes in short, shuddering gasps and she’s appalled by her own weakness. And then, bitterly, “You didn’t ask me why I’m blue.”
Another pause as that bitterness wells and spills over like a stain across the grimace of her face, though none of it is directed at Makai. “You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
And then, so quiet she isn’t sure she’s said it at all, “I don’t.”
MALIS
makai x oksana