[private] even the sun was afraid of you

[Mazikeen]

Mazikeen remembers what she had felt after she had torn him apart - that self-loathing and regret that had shredded her just as effectively as her claws and teeth had shredded his golden skin - and maybe the memory of that pain is what causes her to hesitate from doing the same now, just in case that is what brings those feelings back. Or it could be the knowledge of his powers - where was the fun if he could stitch himself back together or turn incorporeal so she would pass right through him? And then when he flinches away from the truth of her words, she feels satisfied. She doesn’t need her physical claws to cause him pain - she can pour out the truths of the Mazikeen he had known, let him know exactly how easy it would have been for him to have her, and she will feel nothing. But his words erase the delight at his shock and annoyance seeps in at that infernal nickname. “Stop calling me that.” She hisses, some of her control breaking and there’s another small step forwards before she freezes again. Her fury seeping back inside of her, pulled back in by the vacuum of the empty spaces. Just like with his brother, Mazikeen can name each reaction she would have had once to Firion’s confession - like she recognizes the silhouette they’d left when they had been torn out of her. Pain, a flutter of joy she would have tried to immediately squash, fear that he actually meant it, and echoing through it all: that damn hope. Maze cared too much. Maze had been weak and stupid and sacrificed so much of herself. She wasn’t Maze anymore. When she speaks again, her voice is cold, dismissive, as though that small outburst had not happened. “Oh yes, what a favour. Because everything has turned out so fucking well.” Her scars flare red again to highlight them for a second - it’s a cheap shot and she doesn’t actually blame him but the truth doesn’t matter. It is her turn to push him away. “Staying has never been a talent of yours, Firion. Why should it be any different now?” Now that she doesn’t care, now that she does not want him to stay. She feels the gentle brush against her mind and her bright eyes do not stray from him for a single moment as she continues. “There’s nothing to stay for anyway. See for yourself.” Her anger recedes slightly because she wants him to find no resistance, wants him to look inside her and understand so that he will take back his confession, so he will leave. m a z i k e e n .

 

@firion