𝕮𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖊 𝕾𝖒𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝕴𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘

Deceiver, Deceiver | M.H.

[Minor Angst]
Inspired by Arch Enemy's 'Deceiver, Deceiver'

The tension hung thick in the air, the kind that seemed to crawl beneath your skin and linger in every shadowed corner of the room. You had known for a while that something was wrong, that the little hints and half-truths Maria Hill had been feeding you were building toward something much darker, something you couldn't ignore any longer. But hearing her voice on the other end of that intercepted phone call, saying things she had never shared with you, talking to someone you didn't even know she was in contact with—there was no preparing for that kind of betrayal.

The look on her face when you confronted her was one you would never forget—her blue eyes widening for just a second, a flash of something that almost looked like guilt before the mask slipped back into place. She was good at that, at burying her emotions behind a cold, unreadable expression, at pretending there was nothing more to this life than the mission, the duty, the lines that had to be crossed for the greater good. But you had seen behind that mask before, or at least you thought you had. You had believed, once, that there was more to her than the hardened soldier or the calculating strategist. You had believed in her, believed that the vulnerability she had shown you in those quiet moments, when it was just the two of you, had been real.

But now, all those tender moments, all those nights you had spent wrapped up in her warmth, seemed to fade like a dream, unraveling thread by thread until there was nothing left but a hollow feeling in your chest and the harsh reality of her deception.

"You've been lying to me," you said, your voice low, trying to keep the tremor out of it. "How long has this been going on?"

Maria's gaze met yours, calm and steady, but there was an edge to it, like a blade poised just beneath the surface. "You don't understand," she began, the words coming out measured, as if she had rehearsed them in her mind before saying them out loud. "It wasn't like that."

"Then what was it?" you shot back, your heart pounding harder with every breath. "Because all I hear are excuses. All I see is someone who's been in disguise this whole time."

Her jaw tightened slightly, her mouth forming a thin line as if weighing whether or not to tell you the truth. But you could see the calculation in her eyes, the way she was still trying to figure out how to control the situation, how to manipulate the outcome in her favor.

The anger surged in your chest, hot and sharp. "Everything I did for you—everything we went through together—was that all just part of some act?" You didn't try to keep the bitterness out of your voice; you wanted her to hear it, to know just how deep her betrayal had cut.

She didn't flinch, didn't even look away. Instead, she sighed, a weary sound that almost made you believe she was tired of this, of the secrets and lies. "You know what this job is," she said quietly, a note of resignation in her voice. "We don't get to choose who we are all the time. Sometimes... sometimes we have to do things we don't like."

You took a step closer to her, the distance between you feeling like a chasm that could never be bridged again. "And was that what I was, then?" you asked, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Just something you had to do?"

A flicker of something crossed her face then, a flash of regret that vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared. "No," she said, and for a moment, it seemed like she might reach for you, like she wanted to close the space between you and say something that would make this right. But her hands remained at her sides, clenched into fists. "It wasn't like that," she repeated, but there was a hollowness to the words now, an emptiness that echoed in the silence that followed.

The truth was written all over her face, even if she didn't say it out loud. You weren't the exception; you were just another pawn in a game you hadn't realized you were playing. All the promises she had made, all the tender moments you thought you shared—they had only been real for you. For her, they had been just another tactic, another means to an end.

You felt something inside you harden, a wall rising up to shield you from the hurt that was clawing its way to the surface. "Well," you said, your voice rough, "you put on a great act. I'll give you that." You let out a bitter laugh, but there was no humor in it, only pain. "Go on, take a bow, Maria. This is your grand finale."

Her eyes flashed then, a spark of defiance or maybe anger at your words, but she said nothing. The silence between you grew heavier, like a weight pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.

You could feel the finality of it sinking in, the knowledge that there was no going back, that whatever connection you had thought existed between you had been severed the moment you learned the truth. It was like watching a curtain fall at the end of a performance, closing off the stage from view, leaving only darkness where there had once been light.

"I guess this is it, then," you said, taking a step back. "The door is closing, and you're on the outside now." You turned away, not waiting for her to respond, not wanting to give her the chance to try and pull you back into the web of lies she had spun.

As you walked away, you heard her voice, low and distant behind you, calling your name. There was something in the way she said it—something almost desperate, like a plea—but you didn't turn back. You couldn't. You wouldn't let yourself be drawn in again by her false promises, by the illusion of who you thought she was.

Your footsteps echoed down the hallway, each step carrying you further away from her, from the life you had almost believed you could have together. The truth was, you had opened your eyes and seen her for what she was—a deceiver, a master of disguise. You had been blind for too long, and now that the veil had been lifted, there was no going back to the way things were.

The pain of it all settled in your chest like a stone, a heavy reminder of what you had lost, of the betrayal that had severed the last fragile thread of trust between you. But with each step, you felt the weight shift, felt a small part of the hurt give way to a new kind of strength. You had been deceived, yes, but you would not be broken.

As you reached the exit, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. The air felt colder now, sharper, as if the world itself was reminding you that the warmth you had once felt in her arms had been nothing more than an illusion. The door behind you clicked shut, sealing the past behind you, leaving Maria Hill and all her secrets in the darkness where they belonged.

And with that final step, you let her go, closing the chapter on the woman who had deceived you with her Judas kiss.

<3

A/N: Now that's not Seven Spires or RAMMSTEIN but Arch Enemy is really great too. Love them <3