I Am (Not) Your Hero

22

Smite stared down at her. So she was refusing to go? After he'd made a whole deal with god? Here she was once again, being a better hero than he ever was.

His eyes widened. He felt them heat, so he closed them trying to take a breath trying to regulate.

She watched his face carefully. He was angry, of course. He opened his eyes once more. The light illuminated her so beautifully. Like the moon was her personal spotlight, her eyes sheened over with wariness.

"Fine," he said simply. "Keep the keys. A maid will start coming in on Monday. Clean this place up. I guess some kind of stylist—"

She cocked her head, silently asking what was changing.

He cupped her cheek. "You're staying, right? Dying here? Well then, we move on with the plan. Friday evening, I'll announce you."

Her eyes widened, but she nodded softly. "Okay."

He scoffed. "You know what that means. Your life is over. There's no chance for escape."

She nodded, and stood to her full height, stumbling away from him and toward the bed. He finally entered the room, as she sat down on it. He sat at her feet, their faces close.

"I know. But...it's also unlikely you'll take anyone else. You care about your image. You wouldn't want anyone to see you as unfaithful. As anything less than perfect."

Smite didn't know why this entire situation turned his stomach because all he had wanted. For her to quietly accept him, for him to show her off. To finally be able to be kind to her.

But the tired expression on her face made his victory hollow.

"Perfect men have money. Power. Respect. A wife. And two children. At least. A boy, older and a girl younger." He said carefully, nodding to the keys in her hand. "You don't want that. Especially not with me. You know that—"

"Don't make me do that," she whispered softly. "Everything else...everything else I can endure. Don't make me bring a child into this. Please."

His eyes widened. She never begged. No matter how badly he hurt her, she would bury her pain, and put on a brave face.

She looked up at him. "Please."

And so he nodded softly. "Okay. But you could just—"

She patted his shoulder ruefully. "Thank you."

Smite sighed and stood, pacing softly. "I'll make you give interviews. You'll have to love me or at least pretend. Photo ops and sponsorships—and you can't change your mind, Starlette."

She nodded softly. "I understand."

His skin crawled. "Why are you doing this?"

She shrugged. "If I were to leave, I'd probably get a job. Work. Probably not retire, I doubt I could. Have a small apartment. Maybe a small house some day, if things go well. Just a normal life. Nothing desirable really. But if I stay here...I can make a difference . I can...I can maybe save the world, in a way."

She shrugged. "I lived the boring life. The villain life. I'd like to...I'd like to do something good, if I can."

His eyes shuddered, his face twitching as he blinked away the heat, with a small smile. "It's why I hate you think. You're just...you're just better. Without even trying."

She just smiled softly. "Not really."

But she was. And he knew that. He stroked her cheek gently. "I...have never regretted anything."

She nodded her understanding, looking away, toward the window. The moon lit up the side of her face. He couldn't tear his eyes off her.

"I regret how I treated you. I regretted way I met you. I wish...I wish I had done better. I'm sorry, Starlette."

Her eyes widened and she looked back at him, stunned. Then she grinned widely, so hard it closed her eyes, which he found endearing.

Had she ever smiled like that? Had she ever smiled at all?

"Hey, thanks, Smite. That...well it does nothing but it...it's nice."

He chuckled. "I still think you should leave, Star. You're becoming a sad person."

"Yes. But who would I be if I left? Who would I be if I went home just to find another girl, less equipped to deal with you than I am, scared. Alone? On the face of a newspaper, screaming for help into the void?"

His stomach bottomed out.

"Or if one day, at my minimum wage job I find out you've killed a whole bunch of people? It's too late, Smite. I know what you're capable of. I'm responsible for you now."

She stood with a sigh. "I am...responsible for you. There's not enough people like me. People who can deal with you. People who can survive you. I think it was fate."

Smite shook his head. "No...no that's not your job Starlette. You're not the world's hero. I am."

She shrugged. "And that's exactly why I have to stay here. To keep you that way. For them."

And although she was trying to do the right thing, the only thing Smite heard was that she was sacrificing her life for the world.

And in his heart he began to despise them for this.

Why were they worthy of her sacrifice? Why did she care so much about people she'd never met? How dare they? How dare they tax her existence and force her to become a slave for what? For what thanks? No one would know what she did. In fact they may even hate her, after all she bagged the world's hero.

Why was a world of humans worth this expression on her face?

Wouldn't it be easier if they were gone? Then she could do what she pleased. She wouldn't think about what others needed or wanted, she could live her life how she saw fit.

Slowly the thought took root in Smite, though it was quickly eschewed, that perhaps humans didn't deserve her heroics.

Perhaps it would be better if they did not exist.

But he didn't allow himself to dwell on that thought. Still, in his bones reverberated that word, the one word, the word he seemed destined for:

Destruction.

• • •

Hello all. A few things. One: eschewed. I realize it's not very common. Eschewed means to avoid something or give it up. In this context it means he avoids thinking about destroying the world, gives up that thought, tucks it away, etc.

Two: are y'all reading this? I'm kinda getting on a roll with it, I have a plan. How much do we hate Smite right now? Scale of one to ten?