Wings Of Despair - Book 2

Chapter 17

Greg swung his legs over the ledge of the small cave. He had bundled himself up with his green jacket – the same jacket he told John his farewell in – as the shivering breeze nipped the nape of his neck throughout the night. Snab was curled amongst the hooded fluff, it sleeping soundly as it awaited for Yuta's arrival. 

He glanced towards his now-healed scars as it wrapped along his wrists. It contrasted heavily against his skin, it'd be hard for anyone to miss it. Hard for Yuta to miss it. He loathed the marks, it was now a permanent reminder of what he'd gone through with the flame. A constant reminder that it was never a fever dream, it was etched into his soul for the rest of his life. 

Greg forced his head upward, as he took in the rising sun. It'd been an entire day, surely it doesn't take that long to defeat a cluster of mist – the voice seemed offended how Greg perceived the Negative Emotion. Greg sighed through his nose, as his eyes drooped. He refused to sleep, he wanted to be there when Yuta came back. He wanted to make sure she was okay. That was when he noticed something in the distance, as it barrelled straight towards him. Greg barely scrambled to the side as Yuta stumbled inside, her wings covering her fall. 

Greg beamed. She was back, she was okay!

Snab irritably hissed at him as Greg crawled deeper into the cave, heaving himself onto his feet as he trotted towards the nearly-passed-out woman. He noticed how drenched she was, as he took his jacket off and wrapped it around her figure, before helping her sit up. Snab was annoyed with the disruption, as it slithered off the jacket and towards the piled bags. There was only one thing on Greg's mind once he took a good look at her.

She looked like shit.

"You can say that again." The voice butted in. "Look, she even has marks on her hands. They match yours now!"

"What?!" Greg responded aloud, before glancing towards her palms. They were scorched, covered with blisters and blood.

"Holy shit Yuta, what the fuck happened?!" Greg's eyebrows scrunched upward as he cradled the underside of her palm, gently swiping his thumb along the sides of her hand. 

Yuta turned her head, refusing to even speak at that moment – she didn't trust her own voice.

"Yuta... How did you get these?" Greg asked again, more calmly this time – he was concerned how much her burns resembled his.

"I think..." Don't say it. "...I think I killed someone last night."

Silence.

"...What?"

Yuta fell silent once more.

"Y-You mean the Negative Emotion, right?" Greg's voice wavered.

Silence. 

"Right?" Greg emphasised, his voice hidden behind a waver. 

Yuta slightly shook her head, tears brimmed her eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I'm a monster."

She pulled her palms away from Greg's and tucked them against herself, ignoring the sting from the touch of fabric. Greg looked on with sorrow, before he got on his knees and crawled towards their bags. He pulled out the first aid kit he stole, before he returned to Yuta. She wanted to ask where Greg got it from, but she was too emotionally and physically drained to care. 

Greg wasn't sure how to respond, but he ought to soon. "You're not a monster. Tell me what happened, I'll help the best that I can." He smiled fondly as he pulled a water bottle out as well. 

Yuta sniffled. "I don't feel like talking right now-"

"I'm sorry, but this isn't something we can just put aside. Its accused you murdered someone, I'd like to know some context before I make judgements of my own." Greg informed, before he unscrewed the cap from the water bottle. "Can I see you hands please? It'll do you no good with them tucked up like that."