You said we would go through everything, together.
The thought constantly surges through her, similar to the fast paced rush of a river toward the vast ocean. Empty walls suddenly didn't feel too different from what she feels now.
Oh, how he would say that he would always fight for her, but she always refused and said that they would fight together. Two is better than one, remember? We would both be holding swords and shields, ready to fight together, to do anything together. At her statements, he would always smile and pull her closer to envelope her in his arms, comfortable in shared silence as they both agree. It was partly the reason she liked saying it but, of course, she would say it because she meant it.
Through the smiles and the frowns, the days that felt like years and hours that felt like minutes, with all their combined strength they fought to stay strong. Together, they stood up against whatever threatened to tear them apart. Damaged armour? Wounds and scars? It healed by the fortitude of their will to stay together, not only because they should but because they wanted to.
True, they were never invincible, but with the two of them together nothing compared to their resilience.
But now as she crumbles apart and breaks inside, she realises that now, she has been left to fight alone all the wars in her head and the battles in her heart. I thought we were going to fight together? Why did you suddenly leave the fray? With every step he took, she watched him walk away, walk away from their promises, walk away from her, walk away from everything that once was. He walked away with her shield in one hand and his own weapons in the other. All she was left with was the sword.
Ever since he deserted her, however, she lost all the will to fight. Her weak heart was worn on her sleeve, and she dropped the sword, giving in to the war. Armours were stained and her bones felt like they were broken. She let herself become weak.
He said they would fight together.
But now he left the war.
She doesn't even know how to fight anymore.
YOU ARE READING
nightingale
Short StoryTired hearts. Broken beats. A nightingale and a song. A story of a bent relationship.