wisteria-scoher:

And just like that, her world fell apart into ruin. Just for a little while, all stopped. She didn’t feel, nor say anything, nor cry. She just closed her eyes, refusing to open them and look at him. The truth was out, the words had been spoken and there was nothing she could do about it. 

”I killed it.”

“You killed her. Her.” Wisteria stated, her eyes still closed. Every breath she took seemed to be one too many, it ached. Rosalie was taking no more breaths anymore. And for the first time, she couldn’t deny the fact that the man she loved was a murderer. Oh, she’d been so good at closing her eyes, hadn’t she been? Such a fine actress, so delusional. Feeding naive dreams to her mind instead of reality. This time there wasn’t anything standing between them, no progeny and no revenge mission. They themselves were the obstacle. They always had been. They were so different, in just about everything. 

Normally, when she had doubts like this, Wisteria only need look into Michael’s eyes and find something there, something that reassured her. She couldn’t explain what it was, but she’d always been able to see him. Really see him beyond the vampire and his instincts. See the soul. See his past, present and future. A future she’d been so sure of she’d take part in.

Perhaps that was what she needed to do, look into his eyes and find that what she was looking for. 

Winny opened her eyes, and brown tried to meet his green. His gaze was not on her. She tried, she really did try, but her numbness, her pain and shock, prevented her from finding anything. There was just a bleak emptiness as wide as the ocean. 

“It never hurt you. You had no reason to kill it. You didn’t need the feeding. Why? Please, tell me why?”

She shook her head slowly, a haze in her mind, heavy and thick. Painful. “I thought you were tired of unnecessary death, like I am.” Had she completely and utterly misunderstood everything? Had she really been that naive, to think all would work out in the end? 

He didn’t even look at her. As if she was not worthy of his gaze. Maybe she wasn’t anymore. Wisteria knew that, despite it all, she wouldn’t be able to stop loving him. What did that make her? A fool? 

“Michael, look at me. Look. At. Me.”

 He didn’t want to. He really didn’t. He didn’t want to believe that they were never going to make it out there, in this cold world they spun on together. He didn’t want to feel as distant and distressed as he did now in that moment, as he stood there in his lover’s home. Those walls that surrounded him felt strange now, lost of the comfort they once brought to him. The smell he had always cherished, even on his long journeys away from her, felt foreign as it brushed against his nostrils. Even she felt different — her presence alone now something Michael wanted to run from, to escape the failure again. But, he didn’t run. He was frozen to the floor, paralyzed by her words. 

 She called it a her. He had almost forgotten it had a name, let alone a gender. That was the glaringly obvious difference between them, was it not? And, wouldn’t it always be? He was a boogeyman, and she was… She was… 

 Dark strands of slightly curled hair fell in front of his face, sheltering most of it from plain sight. He could hardly stand there, as each second that went by his long legs wanted to give out from under him. All he wanted to do now was collapse and forget it all. Have the ground open him up and swallow him whole. But, again, all he could do was breathe. Breathe.

 “Michael, look at me. Look. At. Me.”

 Did she really want his eyes on her? Could she withstand looking at the man she loves, and live with herself knowing he’s able to kill a child? Could he withstand looking at her and knowing the valley he has created between them now? They seemed on two separate plains of existence altogether, with no way of ever being able to creating a bridge to get to the other. 

 It felt as hopeless as he looked, even from behind. 

 ”I’ll die if I look at you…” His voice shook, and tears welled up into his eyes. He imagined himself running out of there, and never looking back. He imagined himself freeing her of the burden and drain their life together was becoming because of their differences. Michael squeezed his eyes shut, and pushed the tears back.

 Slowly, he turned and lifted his head to look at her. And, he was right. It killed him to see her like this. The bruises, the echoing sadness that reflected her insides; the room filled with the scent of her disappointment. It was inescapable, indescribable. When he imagined their life together, it was nothing like this. When he had pleaded her to be his, this was not what he had promised her it would be. They were supposed to lead a reasonably normal life together, shelter each other from all the death around them. He was going to make sure she had everything she needed. As he looked at her, he knew, in that very moment, their life would never be normal. And, he would never be able to give her what she needed. It killed him, and something inside of him broke that night — he swears it to this very day.

 Biting at his lip, he took a moment before speaking. The truth was, Michael was a monster, and she had overlooked that for whatever reason. It wasn’t fair to be her anchor, keeping her from progressing and living the life she deserved. 

 ”It had to die, and it had to be done to protect everyone that thing would undoubtedly tarnish. It wasn’t a baby, Wisteria… It was an abomination to my people.” Michael knew she wouldn’t understand that. She simply would never be able to wrap her mortal head around the woe that baby would have brought wherever it went. “It was thrown into a fire, and we all need to move on from the stain it’s left behind on each of us.” His voice shook again, and he bit his lip to stop it. “I know you don’t get it…”