Always As You Say (Book One In The Waven Series)

27

He was nothing.

Bore no resemblance to the man who had tormented me, who still haunted my dreams.

No, this man, this man, was so crippled he could hardly stand, although inspite of that, he still managed to stop me with those eyes of his.

Cold enough to burn.

And yet, I couldn't find that old fear. Maybe it was his face. Pale and washed out, it wasn't a face that invoked fear, though it might earn some pity.

Or maybe I wasn't afraid only because I already knew he couldn't hurt me. As I, along with anyone else within ten feet of the asshole could tell he wasn't exactly the epitome of good health.

It was one thing to be told he was dying, and another entirely to see him looking like he was about to fall over and not come back up again, I wasn't quite sure how I felt about it.

"Would you stop looking at me like that. I'm not dead yet, don't act like I am." He sounded bitter, as though even he knew that his words didn't carry the same weight they once did, his presence didn't strike the same terror.

Good, let him feel weak for once.

"I'm not looking at you like you're dead, I'm looking at you like you're dying. Which, in case you've already forgotten, you are. Dying and pathetic, hardly even able to stand."

I was expecting anger, hoping for it even.

Because thanks to who he was, if he got angry he wouldn't be able to just stand there aimlessly, and due to his health he wouldn't be able to move.

I wanted that, wanted to see the look on his face transform from rage to helplessness, even if it was slightly sadistic to want to see his pain.

But alas, no. There was none of the usual anger, instead his face was one of acceptance, and possibly sorrow.

It made me want to hit him.

How was I supposed to hate him, to keep myself distant from his pain when he allowed it to be shown clearly on his face?

"She told you then. Why I want you here."

"Do you think I would have come if she hadn't?" Now that made him angry.

"What then, do you hate me? I understand if you do, after all I've done to you, I guess I've earned it." He said.

"Hate would require me to care at least slightly, so no, I don't hate you. I came because you were dying, because you wanted me to be here when you did, and quite frankly, I came because it felt appropriate for me to see your demise."

His eyes narrowed even further, chest puffed out with injured pride. "And why would you have to be there? Do you think I need you there? Do you pity me? I don't need your pity Nik, I don't need anyones pity." He said.

And god did he sound like an idiot.

"Pity you? Wouldn't that be ironic, me feeling pity for you, the man who tormented me. You don't have to worry, that is never going to happen."

I stared at him coldly, or at least I hope I managed that effect. Though I doubt it with the turmoil circling inside my skull.

"I want to be here when you die, not because I pity you, not because I care. No, I want to be there to see the light drain from your eyes, to see you start fighting, because whether you realize it or not, you're not ready to die yet.

That's why you want me to kill you, you don't want to wait, don't want to waste and to worry.  To think about what's coming, and how little you can do to really change it.

In that way and that way alone, you are just like every human being you have ever hurt, ever met. Just like them, you want control over your life and death, and just like them, you're bound to have that control taken from you.

And I'm sorry Waven, but I will not be the reason you get to cheat. Your control, your life is forfeit, but I refuse to be the one to take it.

His face fell, which I guess means I managed to keep the conflict off my face, that or he was finally listening to the words as I said them, instead of constantly looking for a different meaning.

"Nik, I don't know what you want me to do. I can't change what I've done to you, even if I wanted to." He said.

"You don't though, do you? That's the problem, you don't regret a thing." The look on his face told me I was right, and that, that hurt more than anything else he had ever done.

It shouldn't have though, I mean honestly, what was I expecting? Did I think that he was going to have some sort of epiphany, simply because his time had run out?

No, no I knew better than that, I had too by now, had too know that he would never regret it, never change.

I couldn't possibly be enough of an idiot to still think that he could be anything, anyone other than the man he had always been, then the man who had made my life hell.

"No Nik, I don't. You can't see it yet but I was just what you needed.

You needed someone to control you, to make you see what was right and what was wrong, what was up and what was down. Your a follower Nik, and that means that you need a leader."

I wanted to laugh, to slap his idiotic little face or hit him until he bled, anything at all to make that less ridiculously true.

It wasn't even that big of a revelation, anticlimactic really. Of course I was a follower, had he even met me?

I followed around my tormentor like some infatuated little schoolboy for fucks sakes, I mean really, who fucking does that?

I'll tell you who does that, the same person who gets into yet another toxic relationship, directly after the first, if it can even be called that, with his tormentor, and because it was slightly less acidic than the last one decides that it must be what a healthy relationship looks like.

The same person who decided to burn himself, along with a whole village, just because he hated one of his old paintings, and no one was there to tell him why he shouldn't.

So yeah, I know I that I need a leader, I know how absolutely terribly I tend to handle things on my own, but that's not really the same thing is it.

You can't torture someone, break their mind, and make them nearly as insane as you are, and then say you were just giving them direction.

No, no that was not how it worked. He didn't get to ruin my life and then act as though it were all for my benefit. I would not allow him to.

For a moment I studied him, wondering if I should say what I was thinking. Looking at his broken, desolate face, I decided to go for.

"I think you're sad, and maybe a little crazy. But mostly, I think you're lonely.

So lonely in fact, that you don't know what to do about it, and you thought, maybe, just maybe, I could make that feeling go away, and when I didn't? I think you didn't want to accept that, and so you kept trying to make it work. Maybe even made yourself believe that it was in my best interest. That you were helping me.

Have you honestly managed to convince yourself that that's what you were doing? Managed to lie big enough and long enough that you actually started to believe what you were saying.

What you did was wrong, you know it, I know it, the whole fucking world knows it, except for maybe Veronica but, well she's an idiot anyway." I said.

Something behind his eyes seemed to loosen, but only for a moment and then it was back to the usual coldness.

"You're wrong Nik." And on his crumpled, broken face, came that smirk, that terrible smirk, " and one day, you're going to see it."