14. my heart belongs to you

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14 / MY HEART BELONGS TO YOUi'd risk it all for you

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14 / MY HEART BELONGS TO YOU
i'd risk it all for you

meliodas pov.

     I loathed the secrecy, every word I couldn't say, every truth I had to swallow when I first saw her again.

It burned me from the inside out, a raging fire that seared through every fiber of my being. As I watched Numi lying there, her breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps, an unbearable pain twisted through my seven hearts. The stab wound had nearly taken her from me—again. Seeing her this vulnerable, this fragile, was almost more than I could bear. I knew she would survive but, it didn't make watching her suffer any easier. She was still the same, still the woman who would give her life for a stranger, even now. I clenched my fists, frustrated for failing her once more.

I reached out, my fingers brushing her blonde hair from her face in a gesture so gentle, so full of the love that choked me every day, that it felt entirely inadequate. Her hair was softer than I remembered, the strands sliding through my fingers like water. Her skin was warm beneath my touch, but it wasn't enough. I longed for the light in her brown eyes, that bright fire that had always burned for me, the warmth of her smile that could chase away the shadows of my darkest nights. I needed her to wake up, to look at me like she used to—like I was the only one who mattered. She was my beacon, the only thing that kept me going. She was the reason I kept fighting to do better, the reason behind every action and decision. Without her, the world was a cold, empty place.

I loved my friends, the Sins, in my own way. But they would never understand this fully.

Numi was my priority, my everything. Balancing my duty with my need for her felt like a constant tightrope walk, an exhausting dance that left me disoriented. I knew they sensed it, the unspoken distance between us, the way my eyes would always drift to her, seeking her out even when she was right there. They didn't understand, couldn't understand, how she was my lifeline. How every breath she took was a promise that I had something worth fighting for.

I was haunted by fear. Every day, it clung to me like a shadow I couldn't shake off. Telling her the truth about the curse—could break her. It had before, and the thought of watching her shatter again, of hearing her cries of agony as the memories surged back, was a weight I couldn't bear. I had watched her suffer for 3,000 years, each time more painful than the last. Her anguish was my constant torment, a knife twisting in my chest with every scream, every tear. And every time, I was helpless to stop it.

My gaze drifted down to the mark on her neck, half hidden beneath the edge of her bandages. The sight of it sent a shiver through me, a rush of memories flooding my mind. The night I had marked her was seared into my soul, every moment, every touch, every whispered vow. I didn't regret it, not for a second, not even now when she had no memory of it. I stood by my decision, though back then, I had acted on desperation, a fear that had consumed me whole. She had consented, yes, but could she have truly understood what it meant? What it would bind us to? I doubted it. But even so, I would make the same choice again, if given the chance.

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