Sunlight and Storms

Stars

(A/N I wrote this for my creative writing class and thought I'd share it. It's similar to Sun and Moon, but it's been improved)

Avery didn't believe in love at first sight, but with Damien it was different. She didn't fall in love with him immediately but something seemed to click between them. He was special and she felt close to him from the start. She didn't need love at first sight to fall for him.

At first they were friends, roommates if you will, Damien was living in a small house with her, helping her pay rent. However, from the moment they met, she scared him. Everything about her scared him. The way she smiled, that mischievous glint in her eyes, the way her sandy waves glinted just right under the evening sky. They all drew him in like a moth to a flame. He was suffering and so damaged, yet there she was so ready to pick up the pieces.

For Damien, he fell in love with her after a single event, crashing over him like a wave.

Avery was awoken by the sound of her bedroom door slamming open, causing her to sit up sharply and look over. Her face softened upon seeing a rather distressed Damien standing there in a t-shirt and boxers, something she would have teased him about under different circumstances. She merely opened her arms towards him and he couldn't stop himself from running over to her, hugging her tightly. Damien's shaky breaths hit her arms, his head gently resting on her chest as she ran her fingers through his dark locks. "Bad dream?" She asked, gaining a nod in return. Although he hadn't told her much, she knew he had been a soldier for a few years and that he was still haunted by nightmares of memories.

Of course after an actually good day, his mind had to be reminded of all those who have died on his watch.

After Damien had calmed down some, they sat up in her bed and she turned to him, taking his hands in hers, "Tell me, Damien. Tell me everything."

And so he did.

He told her about how his generals had turned cruel in the dying years of the war. He told her about the horrors that both sides of the war released on one another. He told her about holding the body of his closest friend in his arms, having found him dead amongst the rubble of a dead city, and how he never knew how his other friends died, only that they had. He told her about how his generals had let them run rampant and how his comrades had become monsters, releasing their anger and terror and killing many good people. He told her about his brother's brutal death at the hands of the enemy. He spoke of his own horror at seeing civilizations laid to waste because of hatred and arrogance. He described the last days of his time in the war, the tension in the air, the fear that licked inside them all, and then the day that ended it all: the Fall when the enemy finally broke through the trenches and set foot on their side for the first— and last— time.

"There was so much death." Damien said, staring at his hands in Avery's, focusing on the feeling of her life running through her veins to anchor him to his reality and keep him from his nightmares, "Children under rubble, fires burning everywhere. I couldn't take it any more. Something had to be done. The Upper Command had been locked away for months, working on a solution that was more terrifying than the war itself. The War Council barely had enough resources to last..." A sigh shuddered from him, "And so I took the decision into my own hands." He swallowed hard, "There was a bomb. It was the most powerful and most dangerous weapon in the works. It had the power to destroy entire battlefields. When it worked as it was intended, it had the ability to end the war."

Avery felt a flurry of emotions, knowing what was going to come next. She was horrified, stunned, and enraptured as he continued, "I stole it from the vaults and I took it to the barn near the camp. I figured out how it worked and I used it, ending the battle and ending the war. Now, I have to live every single day knowing all of the people I killed." Tears slipped down Avery's cheeks. She was unable to speak. Anything she even thought about saying sounded trite and inconsequential in the face of his revelation. "That's who I am." Damien said quietly, "You've said before, when I'm in one of my dark episodes, that it is not who I am, but you were wrong. It is."