A Curse so Twisted And Cruel.

A Broken Swing.

I awaken with a jerk, my body shaking and coated in a sheen of sweat.

I do my best to shake the blank, staring eyes that linger in my head, along with my bloodied hands, to no avail.

I push the covers off me, and tiptoe silently out the door, to the large ebony tree in the courtyard.
I seat myself on the creaky swing beneath it, and lean my head against the cool chain, my bare toes scraping the overgrown grass.

"I wouldn't sit on that, if I were you." A voice startles me from the darkness. I jump, and the swing groans underneath me, before it snaps, and I topple to the ground.

It's completely silent for a moment, then a chuckle erupts from a broken fountain to my left. It grows louder, and I see a shadow move from the side of the fountain, coming towards me.

The man's scent reaches me before his face, a heady mix of rich cologne, smoke, and fresh parchment.

He bends down and holds a hand out to me. I ignore it however, and pick myself up, dusting the sand off my thin white nightgown.

I see his bemused smirk widen, and my cheeks redden in embarrassment. I hadn't bothered with a coat, since I come out here every night, and there's never anyone else.
I back away, into the cover of shadows, but he puts out a hand, as if to stop me.

"No wait, I'm sorry." His voice is quiet, and, for some reason, familiar. "I didn't mean to-" he pauses. "I'm sorry if I offended you."

My eyebrow rises at his words, but I nevertheless step back into the dim light.
"What are you doing here?" I blurt out, straining to look up at him. My teeth click in annoyance at his height.

From what I can make out, his eyes are a deep brown, almost black. His hair is long, and falls in messy strands over his eyes and nape.
A silver star dangles from one of his ears, and the swirl of a tattoo curls up one side of his neck.

A different heat flushes my cheeks, as I wonder what the rest of the tattoo looks like. "Am I not allowed to be here?" He asks, a playful undertone to his voice.

"That depends on who you are." He cocks an eyebrow, studying me. I repress a shiver at the intensity of his gaze, an indecipherable look in his dark eyes.

"I'm...never mind." He says, running a hand through his hair. "You'll know soon enough, anyway." He says it softly, but there's an undeniable bitterness in his voice.

"You're a guard then?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.
"No." He turns to walk away, but I call out, "A healer?"

He turns back and smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Nope. The opposite, actually." My brow furrows at that, and I struggle not to roll my eyes. He's purposely making this more difficult than it is.

"You're the..what, Grim Reaper come to steal my soul?" I ask, crossing my arms. ""Because I'd hate to disappoint you, but mine is already lost." Out of absolutely nowhere, my voice breaks, and tears prick my eyes.

The nightmare that made me come out here in the first place swims in my vision, and I feel my control slipping. Everything suddenly seems to crash down on me; Silvey's death, the Hazer I killed, the men in the forest, my hope for a safe place, shattered. My family, looking, waiting, searching for me.

Get away! You are NOT crying infront of a complete stranger. My brain screams at me, but my eyes aren't cooperating. They start to leak, and I turn away, using my hands to roughly wipe the tears away. I wait for the stranger to leave to let my tears flow freely.

Frustratingly though, he remains standing behind me.
I turn back to him, to tell him to find something better to do than watch me cry, but then I'm suddenly pulled into a long pair of arms, against a firm, warm chest, the heady mix of his scent overwhelming.

My entire body freezes, and a tear rolls off my cheek. Against my better instinct, I look up, into those dark eyes, which, for some reason, look as confused as I feel.

Up close, I can see the dark shadows beneath his eyes, the stubble on his chin. The scar running along his sharp jaw.
I feel his body, warm against mine, his heartbeat steady. I feel my own heart, pounding in my chest, the flutter of butterflies in my belly.

We stare at each other for a second before he blinks, clearing his expression, and I quickly wipe away unwanted tears, which don't stop. "Don't." He whispers, his voice even softer than before.

He takes a small step back and catches my hands in one of his. Then he wraps his arm around me again, his other hand on my hair, holding me against him.

"W-why are you d-doing this?" I hiccup. I always hiccup when I cry. It's horrible. "Shh." He whispers again, his voice calm. He gently runs his hand over my hair, and my tears gradually subside.

The minute the last tear escapes my eyes, I quickly step away, and his hands hesitate for a split second before letting me go.

"I um.." I begin, my voice hoarse. "T-thank you. I wasn't supposed to cry, but I probably won't see you again, so it-" My anxiety gets the better of me, and I blabber. "It's fine." He mutters, cutting me off.

He turns away, and I put a hand on his arm. Even though we practically just hugged, he freezes at my touch. "Really. I.." I pause, making sure he knows how much it meant to me. "I needed that. Thank you." Sincerity floods my voice.

He nods, before walking away. I bite my lip, just knowing I made it awkward. Why can I never do anything right? I sigh, shivering slightly at the sudden chill outside his arms. His scent is still in my nose, and it takes a few deep breaths for my head to clear.

I make my way back to bed, the whirlwind of emotions exhausted me, and I almost immediately fall into the first sleep in a long time that's devoid of nightmares, but full of the rich scent of cologne.

•{§∆§}•

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Sapphire_S.