Mazikeen
He doesn’t run, which is a very good start. And what he says inspires such a confusing mixture of ‘I’d like to kick him in the head and see if that inspires some sense’ and ‘I want to pull him close and never let him go’ that there’s really no doubt that she loves him back.
As if the way her heart is racing could not have given that away.
Everything he had just said to her is something she can hear herself saying right back - and maybe that means she needs a good kick in the head too.
Picking where to start her response feels like dancing on the edge of something, except she’s already decided which way she’s going to jump and it doesn’t frighten her. “How about we don’t talk about what we think we deserve. We’re not going to agree on that, we both think a lot of the other and not enough of ourselves.” Mazikeen says this with a sad smile because she is pretty sure she had the love she “deserved” already. And she watched him kill their daughter and then rewind time so that she could do it; she’d woken up by the shore of Hyaline’s lake after that love had eaten her heart and eyes; she’d ignored all the ways he had hurt their son when he was bored. She had traded away and then lost everything that made her who she was to that love and was still dealing with the chaos left in the wake.
This didn’t feel like that, this didn’t feel like what Mazikeen deserved. This wasn’t an all-consuming wildfire that would leave only ashes behind. It was a golden light she could grow under, she could strive for.
“I don’t want the world, Firion. Someone else can have it. I want you.” She can’t help the grin that grows as she says that, the way this feeling radiates through her even while he’s trying to convince her of something she doesn’t believe (that he’s not good enough). “Whatever pieces you’re willing to give me, whatever love you can. I’m not scared of you, of this. I’ve already lived through hell, and getting to see you every day is nothing like it… it’s been…” The exact words elude her. She doesn’t know how to describe how much it has meant to her that he’s stayed, how absolutely surprising it felt to actually share all her pieces and how natural it felt to just be with him.
And she didn't - or couldn't - believe that all the kindness and comfort he's given her has been false.
“Instead of what you think I deserve… tell me what you want, Firion. Is it the same as me?” She swallows, unable to break her gaze away from his as she continues. Everything is written there in her eyes clear as day, the hope that keeps her voice soft - nerves finally showing with the way a tremor runs through her. “Can it be enough if we love each other and we keep trying to be better than who we were in the past?”
As if the way her heart is racing could not have given that away.
Everything he had just said to her is something she can hear herself saying right back - and maybe that means she needs a good kick in the head too.
Picking where to start her response feels like dancing on the edge of something, except she’s already decided which way she’s going to jump and it doesn’t frighten her. “How about we don’t talk about what we think we deserve. We’re not going to agree on that, we both think a lot of the other and not enough of ourselves.” Mazikeen says this with a sad smile because she is pretty sure she had the love she “deserved” already. And she watched him kill their daughter and then rewind time so that she could do it; she’d woken up by the shore of Hyaline’s lake after that love had eaten her heart and eyes; she’d ignored all the ways he had hurt their son when he was bored. She had traded away and then lost everything that made her who she was to that love and was still dealing with the chaos left in the wake.
This didn’t feel like that, this didn’t feel like what Mazikeen deserved. This wasn’t an all-consuming wildfire that would leave only ashes behind. It was a golden light she could grow under, she could strive for.
“I don’t want the world, Firion. Someone else can have it. I want you.” She can’t help the grin that grows as she says that, the way this feeling radiates through her even while he’s trying to convince her of something she doesn’t believe (that he’s not good enough). “Whatever pieces you’re willing to give me, whatever love you can. I’m not scared of you, of this. I’ve already lived through hell, and getting to see you every day is nothing like it… it’s been…” The exact words elude her. She doesn’t know how to describe how much it has meant to her that he’s stayed, how absolutely surprising it felt to actually share all her pieces and how natural it felt to just be with him.
And she didn't - or couldn't - believe that all the kindness and comfort he's given her has been false.
“Instead of what you think I deserve… tell me what you want, Firion. Is it the same as me?” She swallows, unable to break her gaze away from his as she continues. Everything is written there in her eyes clear as day, the hope that keeps her voice soft - nerves finally showing with the way a tremor runs through her. “Can it be enough if we love each other and we keep trying to be better than who we were in the past?”
