My Lady of Sorrow

[mistkitt]

 Originally Posted: 03/11/16

I thought to myself, “This prompt could either lean towards sin or pain,” and gosh darn it if I didn’t choose both. MariChat Week Day 5: Trust Me.

~

He knew why she was crying, but she couldn’t know that he knew.

It was her secret to tell, in her own time, and he’d wait no matter how much it hurt him to see her so torn.

In the shadows of her balcony, away from prying eyes, he held her as she sobbed. The sweet night fragrance of the flowers she raised with loving care clashed with the bitter taste of her tears. His clawed hands roamed her back in a manner meant to soothe, but she only cried harder, broken by his gentle touch.

He could end it all with a simple my lady.

But that would be selfish of him.

Instead, he took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles, her wrists. He leaned forward to caress her warm, damp cheek with his lips. She squeaked his name and he kissed the corner of her mouth, then pulled away to show her his sorrowful smile. “It’s alright,” he whispered, though he knew that in her mind it wasn’t alright, and no amount of his telling her so would convince her otherwise. “You can trust me.”

Her expression crumpled, words lost in the tumult of her pain. He understood. I do trust you, her whimper said. More than anyone, her tears continued. From the beginning, her shaking shoulders added. With my life, her heart declared. And I don’t know why this has to be so hard.

Her lips tasted of frustration when they found his in the dark. His clawed hands wound into her loose hair and he pulled her close, bewitched by this girl, so strong and yet so fragile. He marveled at how she could love him enough to be this afraid.

She cried because she wanted to tell him, but thought he’d be angry, thought he would assume she’d toyed with his heart on a whim. If I didn’t want you playing with my heart, I wouldn’t have given it to you, his open-mouthed kiss said. She cried because she still had feelings for Adrien but she couldn’t stop coming back to him. If only you knew how much of a non-issue that is, princess, he thought as he sucked on her collarbone.

Most of all, she cried because deep down, she knew that he knew, was in denial about knowing that he knew. She cried because something kept her from believing that he could know and still kiss her like he needed her, desperately, ardently, with the mask or without the mask, now and forever.

So they burned all their secrets into their skin, and the darkness bore witness to all the things they couldn’t say.