Myself, Unwillingly Given | PTN

Myself, Unwillingly Given

There was, before, an acknowledgement in the back of her mind that if push came to shove, Rahu would not prioritise Shalom's life over her own.

Her lips ran through the motions, the 'it's my job to protect you's, and knew that her power likely wouldn't let the situation come to such a choice.

So it wasn't so much of a concern. Shalom was a means to an end.

It was a quiet early morning in the manor that Rahu looked at Shalom's delicate hands, flitting with the motions of brushing her hair behind her ear. A small gesture, coaxing, and Rahu realised it was directed at her, to come sit at the clothed table from which the heady smell of smoky tea came.

Rahu mustered up a polite denial, and watched the press of a gentle lipsticked smile from the woman of Paradeisos.

The tea was poured, the milk was added, sugar was stirred in and the spoon clinked on the porcelain.

Rahu watched as she brought the cup to her lips and sipped silently, eyes shut in contentment. She looked at the motion of her throat and the rise and fall of her chest, and imagined something stopping the motion when all was said and done.

It was not a pleasant sensation. It was twisting, and terribly familiar.

"What's wrong?"

She became a little less certain, and decided to focus on the goal at hand and not think about any more useless, distracting hypotheticals.

.

Rahu felt - was feeling, far too much.

The cold tarmac was coarse beneath her knees, her breath came hard and fast and tore at her chest sharply. The rain was hot and cold against her burning skin and open wounds. Shalom's umbrella felt gentle within her shoulder, a single point of firm and bloody contact that accompanied the constant throb within her heart for vengeance.

She was knelt, but couldn't bring herself to let her head remain tilted down and respectfully prostrate to the monarch with a sword upon her shoulder. Instead, she gazed up to seek an answer - to attempt to glean the truth from Shalom's rose pink eyes, her plum pink lips.

The woman who had her on her knees.

"...Good job... From now on, just leave it to me."

As the rain washed away the scarlet stains upon the clear plastic, Shalom's voice washed over her with the beginnings of a solution. For a fleeting moment, Rahu decided that she didn't need to think about anything at all anymore, and it felt exhilaratingly blank.

It felt dangerous.

They stood under a blood tipped umbrella together, Shalom's gaze focused solely on her. Hand over hand and warm, Rahu felt dizzy with something she couldn't quite place.

Perhaps it was just her injuries. Maybe she stood up too fast.

But the heart in her breast thudded violently to a new tune.

.

There was, after, a realisation that her loyalty might've run a little deeper than she would've liked. That first fresh new day, where they went for a walk in a park full of artificially cultivated flowers in a toxic contamination cleansing rain, like two women on a romantic tryst and dressed accordingly.

Shalom, radiant in her white sundress, her bare shoulders glowing under the sun that reached her through the window of her clear umbrella. Her perpetual smile, as gentle as it had been the night before.

Rahu, uncomfortably fiddling with the cuff of a pair of leather gloves she wasn't used to and her arms bare of all weapons. Her body empty of the tight security of her uniform.