Eldarya: Imagine

Nevra | No more

He screwed up and he knows it oh too well even without your constant reminding it by lack of any reaction whenever he's around. Yes, you're ignoring him and that's not doing good to him and his growing guilt. Honestly, the fact your eyes seem to not even register him even on shared missions makes him just restless and as much as he wants to give you space, he also wants to get any, and I mean any reaction from you.

But it's even worse as he watches you whither. Your past does not exist, your family does not remember you, you are nothing than a partly magical being kept prisoner in a world you don't think you belong to. With no hope of bright future amongst those who you trusted and who took everything away from you. You're noticeably skinnier than before he forced you to drink the potion, your skin of much paler tone and your eyes more dull than ever. Your smiles are not sincere even if others don't notice it and thus treat you as before, but since he's had his eyes on you from your arrival on that memorable day, he knows you're slowly drifting to greater despair.

It's not about him – he tries to convince himself as he calls your name every time you pass each other. You never react, but he tries anyway, every failure gripping his chest in a tighter clutch. He's drained from all the extra work he took on himself before to give you more space and the sleepless nights when he passes out only when his brain is unable to keep him up any longer and the night visions come, every showing him the betrayed look on your face and the tears he wish he could brush away.

He just wants you to be happy regardless of everyone's doings, regardless of his doings. And there may be also that wish you would stop ignoring him for at least a moment.

That's why when once again you pass him on the hall seemingly not registering his presence he finally snaps and pushes you to the wall, his arms trapping you between him and the wall and forcing you to react in any way. You don't look at him but the corners of your lips draw a little more down, small line forming between your brows. You can see him – which is good, may make things easier.

"Please...Talk to me."

His voice cracks midway and is no louder than a whisper. The anticipation for your response of any kind keeps him on edge. And when your head moves and you finally lift your gaze to his tired eye, he's pretty much sure he's trembling from all the emotions and stress bubbling in his body.

You don't say anything, just stare in his lavender orb dully and the moment drags until you blink and look away again. He heaves a shivery sigh. Through gritted teeth at that. He seriously doesn't know how to deal with this, how to deal with you in this state and he hopes he would be better at words than he is. He must try though and so he doesn't move from his spot, determined to- ...make you speak, make you move, push him away, anything but... this .

"I can't stand seeing you like this," he lets out hoping you will listen, which you do since there's nothing else apart from running away of switching yourself off you can do now. "You need to have some hope, you need to try finding a cure-"

"Is there even one?"

Your voice startles him. He has heard you on occasion the past few weeks but it's the first time you've spoken to him directly and it takes him a moment to register what you asked about. A small speck of light blossoms in his chest. Maybe, just maybe you will be able to recover.

"Yes, but we would need to acquire a copy of the book the recipe for the original potion was wrote in and then-"

"I can't afford to trust you again." Your voice is cold and cutting down all the hope he might've had in himself. "Now let go of me," and then you're pushing on his left arm that easily gives away, freeing you from the trap he's made of his body and the wall.

As you walk away, Nevra stares silently at where you stood a moment earlier, his right hand still pressing on the wall in the numb state when he can't even move a finger. The spell breaks when he hears the door to your room close and then he lets out a long breath, his one eye closing and palms clenching around his arms as if he was trying to get rid of the cold of your stare and voice.

He turns around and starts for his room's door, the cold spreading further his body and forcing an impossible to swallow lump in his throat.

As much as he wanted you to talk to him again, he wishes he didn't push you until you did, because then the pain would be but a small interruption in his life and not this suffocating feeling seemingly sucking life out of him.