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20 / THE LOVE OF MY YEARS between him and i
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As Meliodas hesitantly began unraveling the threads of my past—our past. It was as if I had been struck repeatedly with the force of Diane's Gideon. The weight of his revelations crashed over me like relentless waves, each one more devastating than the last.
I was assaulted by a torrent of memories: our first encounter in that desolate field, the moments we managed to steal together despite the odds—our bonding and the intimate highs and agonizing lows of our love. It was as if a kaleidoscope of our relationship was spinning before my eyes, each fragment of joy and sorrow flashing in rapid succession.
Elizabeth's revelation as the reincarnation of my dear friend.
Me being a Goddess.
The enormity of it all was almost too much to bear.
Meliodas had tried to warn me, his voice a tentative guide through the labyrinth of truth but the gravity of his words hit me with a force I couldn't have anticipated.
My heart pounded violently, racing uncontrollably as if trying to escape the crushing weight of the revelations. I gripped his hands tightly, feeling the tension in his own grasp as he spoke. My desperation to contain the violent change inside me was so intense that I could have clawed my heart out to stop the turmoil but instead, I clenched Meliodas's hands, drawing strength from his presence even as I inadvertently squeezed too hard.
Sweat poured down my face, my body trembling with the effort to hold back the cries that threatened to break free. I bowed my head, struggling to keep my composure for Meliodas' sake but the pain was overwhelming, searing through me like wildfire. My whole being felt ablaze with agony as I squeezed my eyes shut against the deluge of revelations.
And then Meliodas began to recount the momentous betrayal of the Ten Commandments and the inception of the Holy War. Each word from his lips felt like a new wound, deepening the already unbearable ache in my heart.
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third pov.
flashback, 3,000 years ago
In the dead of night, Numi was surrounded by blood curdling screams, echoing from every direction. Blood. So much blood. She could feel bile rising in her throat, threatening to spill out, but she swallowed it down, gripping the knives her lover had gifted her. He had made them by hand, just for her.
Numi was drenched in blood.
Her face was smeared with it, the once pristine white of her outfit now stained and defiled.
