When Love Turns Macabre

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Saphira crouched in the empty home’s ruins, the crumbling walls letting in the forlorn winds gusting her loose hoodie. She burrowed her head and arms in the hoodie. The cold was making her severely annoyed. She eyed the sky, the clouds drifting past in the evening, stars starting to poke through the dimming sky.

“Hmph, who does he think he is?” She huffed, “dragging me around like this… This isn’t even my fight. I just want to get my parcel back and go home.” She shuddered and whined, tapping her head to her knees. She had enough. She wasn’t going to follow him around anymore.

Saphira crept to the broken wall and peered out at the reaper. He remained against the wall, the same broken position he was since she left him. His arm hung in the sling, his head buried into his cloak. It seemed he wasn’t watching. Asleep maybe? She squinted, getting up and skittering away from the ruins. Her hood was down and tightened on her face to keep out the cold.

Running off on her own didn’t work out so well the last time she tried. If what she was told was correct. Luckily, she knew to watch for hunters this time. She fixed the sword on her hip and wandered into the forest, pushing back brush and branches.

“I hope he didn’t hear me run off.” She muttered to herself. It’s not like she needed him on her tail too. Finally, she came upon the end of the trees emptying back out on the graveyard. She paused, spying the castle in the distance and feeling her knees lock up. She trembled like a leaf, frozen in the garden of corpses.

What did he need her for anyway? Saphira’s shoulders started to slump. Her head lowered. She could feel her very soul drop to the floor. She was dead weight since he revived her. Worthless.

All she felt was worthless.

She found his grave and sat in front of it. She and him were a lot alike. Alone and beyond death. She folded her legs and stared at it, checking the dates and rereading the epitaph over and over again. What would hers say? It was hard to think of an epitaph without much knowledge of herself. She placed her chin on her arms and sighed.

“Here lies nobody, important to no one.” She decided. The crickets sang softly in the night, owls sitting high in the trees adding to their song with low cooes. Saphira sat still, shivering with her body tucked into the hoodie. She pulled the hood over her head and stood, turning towards the ruins and watching the dirt pass under her feet. She looked up at the wall remnants and saw Mako laying against the wall. She pursed her lips and returned to the half building, huddled into the corner, and going to sleep.

Sunlight hit her sword’s jeweled adornments, bouncing sun into her eyes and forcing her awake. She groaned and pushed the blade over, the clatter startling her into full awareness. The morning came with much more warmth than the night before. She smiled and basked in the little sunlight filtering through the cracks. Her hoodie felt heavy on her, she assumed because she was still somewhat asleep. She looked down at her hoodie to find a large and heavy dark green cloak tucked around her. Saphira took it in her hands and stood, looking over at Mako with a curious hum. He laid against the wall with his back turned to her. His wings folded, claws resting in his lap, hand clasped on his wounded arm.

Saphira squinted, she had never seen his bare bones before. It was weird to witness. Tossing the cloak onto her shoulders, she stuck her arms through the sleeves and looked at the oversized article dragging at her feet. She laughed softly, dragging it along to the reaper. Mako raised his head slightly as the empty space beside was taken, looking over his shoulder. Saphira wore his cloak on top of her hoodie and pulled it closed around her.

“Thanks.” Saphira hugged his arm and turned her gaze to the dirt. He nodded and straightened, shifting so she would be more comfortable. She looked up at him, watching a green shimmer flit across his clavicle to the humerus under her cheek. The ephemeral power slowly formed the faux flesh she had seen a few times before. Lifting her cheek slightly to let the flesh form completely before resting her face back onto him.

“Do you want the cloak back?” She asked.

“Nah, you can wear it.” He grumbled. Saphira smiled and nestled against his arm, closing her eyes. Mako was stiff and frozen, uncomfortable with a deep green tint over his cheekbones. She breathed softly as she fell back to sleep. He looked down at her and carefully pushed her bangs behind her ears. Mako had hoped that she would forgive him, but he needed to give her something to officially tell her he was sorry.

The morning gradually grew warmer. His mindless stroking of her arm kept her asleep, though that wasn’t his intention. He watched as the sky brightened and the clouds roll through. Saphira pressed into his side and stirred a bit. Slowly, she woke up once again, yawning and stretching.

“Mmph… Here.” She said, taking off the cloak and handing it to him.

“Thanks,” He said as he put it on, “I actually have something I need to say.”

“Then say it.”

“Right. I’m sorry. I should trust you. I don’t have any excuse, but I didn’t and I should have. I’m sorry.” Mako said, clearing his throat and avoiding her gaze. Saphira sighed and shook her head.

“I shouldn’t have been mad. You and I don’t really know each other, you don’t have to…” She said, twiddling her thumbs. Mako gave a small chuckle and stood, offering her a hand. She took it and rose to her feet, looking up at him.

“If we’re going to work together, why don’t we try to get to know each other?” He offered. Saphira tilted her head and nodded. They smiled at each other, still grasping each other’s hands and looking into each other's eyes. They didn’t realize how long they stood like that, but time was beginning to be a figment beyond their minds.

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