The Judgement Of Divinity (TMOE #2)

Chapter 39: For love

Being at the far back of the building, the gallery was cold and eerily dim as Ethan materialised in the middle of it. After making sure he'd entered unnoticed and that no one was nearby on the other side of the door, he looked around with a wistful sigh.

He'd rarely been there. Whenever he'd visited, or rather infiltrated, the building, he had always gone straight for Damien. It had usually ended with Derek forcing him out too, so sightseeing had never been much of an option.

Large and impressive as the room was, it wasn't hard to find the five paintings in question. They were displayed proudly and eye-catchingly on the largest wall. They were almost too easy to target. Had Lucius not been the impulsive little soul that he was, Ethan doubted he'd have that hard of a time destroying them. Certainly not so it required demolishing a building and killing an alarming amount of people.

His eyes didn't linger for long at the targets though, as they were drawn to the portrait of a woman with ruddy, curly hair, that hung on the wall to the right instead.

He smiled bittersweetly, letting out a soft, trembling breath as he walked up to it.

"Been a long time, Mother." He reached his hand out to stroke the woman's cheek. "I'm sorry to say I'd almost forgotten he had this, or I would have visited more often. And yes, I know my hair is a mess right now."

A sting in his chest, and Ethan glanced over his shoulder towards the other paintings again.

"He never moved on, you know?" A soft, wry laugh escaped him. "Never even tried. Sounds romantic, I guess, but I think that's part of what destroyed him."

His laugh faded into a sigh.

"It... Really is time, isn't it?" he asked the woman in the painting. "I know you'd agree. You would have thought so long ago."

Of course, he got no reply. The woman kept smiling, standing in the middle of a flower ridden field with her white dress and unruly, frizzy hair.

"Yeah..." Ethan tried the expression as well. "... You keep smiling. Doubt you would if you could see him now. If you could see any of us, or I don't know... Maybe you can."

His eyes narrowed as pain surged through him again.

"I wouldn't want you to see it though. Everything that's happened, and... Knowing that's the end of us. I don't know what will happen to me in the end, and the two of them will just... Disappear. The fact that we'll never see you again— Or each other, for that matter— is pretty terrifying, isn't it? Or maybe that's just me."

He carefully grabbed the painting from the wall and carried it over to the others, placing it below Damien and Anthony's portraits before taking a step back.

"This..." He bit his lip as tears burned his eyelids, and he slowly sank down to the floor. "... This is as close as it gets, huh? It's been a while since we were all together, so... Guess it's nice to have a final memory of us before—"

His voice failed him, and he sucked in a breath to gather his strength again. He didn't want to do it. Of course not. He'd waited for so long with the hope that something would change, but it didn't.

And it never would.

"I won't let the fire take you, of course," he said to his mother's portrait as he brought down a curtain to wrap around it. "Just Fa..."

Once again, he stared back at the wall of paintings with a sinking feeling.

"I know you still love me," he whispered, with an anguished look at Damien's painting. "You always have. You just... Don't think it's me, and that's... Understandable, I suppose. At least I've always told myself that, no matter what happened, or whatever you said to me."