FATE

Zero

He watched her as she was sound asleep; a woman of sheer beauty and grace. Her luscious lips were slightly ajar, and he could all but wonder the nonchalant words she could have been muttering in her hazed state. Her hair, thick and shiny, mimicking the marvellous rays of the sun, was sprawled over her pillow. Oh, had he wished that he could run his hand through the softness of her locks.

He peered at the fair skin peeping out of the article of fabric she was beneath, and longed for a proximity where the fairness of her lean legs were to be entwined with his own.

He felt worthless; he could have never mustered enough courage to confront the angel taunting his very being. One that is so close, yet far from reach.

He was lost within the seams of a novel of his own creation when a gasp was heard.

She was awake.

She was awake, heterochromatic eyes blazing holes into the sides of his rough face. One an ice blue, the other a sapphire hazel-green. Sweeping eyelashes batted swiftly as a face ever-so-exquisite scrunched up in utter confusion. He wondered if, under different circumstances, she would have been engulfed within the softness of his embrace, her head nuzzling his broad chest. He longed for her electrifying touch; one which would ignite his very being.

He wondered what an ample laugh of hers would do. He mentally scoffed as he thought of the ideology of his heart being sent into frenzy due to a sole laugh.

He was out of his trance the moment a lean, soft hand caressed his cheek. He was in awe; the angel herself, the one who had invaded his dreams and fantasies since the day he had found out of her being, was right in front of him.

Her eyes were mirroring his, adoration oozing out of them. She rendered him as a work of art, sharp, angular face and an extremely muscular body. What had stood out, though, was the contrast his warm eyes provided. Little did she know, these very eyes were oh-so tranquilisingly dark at all times, they just softened up when they landed on her.

They were polar opposites, a calculated, cunning machine of destruction that had the sole purpose of maintaining balance, and an angelic creature of which would never even think of hurting a fly.

He wondered why the goddess had blessed him with a woman of sheer perfection; what had he done to deserve her? Moreover, how was it possible for him to form such complicated bond, provided that his destiny would have never allowed such bond.

They stood there, admiring each other, for what they had thought was a couple of moments. They had stayed like that for a while, though.

A soft smile crept up her delicate features. It was contagious, as the man who had barely cracked a smile in his entire life was returning the gesture. Her smile turned into a grin when his hand made its way to her hair, tugging a stray strand behind her ear, earning him a rosy blush that had flushed the apples of her cheek.

Such gesture would have never affected her, but the fact that it was initiated by the man in front of hair amplified its significance, making it nearly impossible to brush off.

He inhaled vanilla.

She was engulfed with a musky scent of which invaded her senses.

Delicate hands wrapped around his neck. Almost instantaneously, his rough ones circled her waist, increasing the proximity between his toned chest and curvaceous body.

There was no mistake here, they were destined mates; soul mates. Although there should have been not a mere possibility, the Goddess herself, Hilaeria, had hand-picked these two souls to bind as one for a reason beyond their current comprehension. She had a wise scheme of which was in action.

His eyes ravished each inch of her, from the way her nightgown hugged her hips, ridden up due to her previously sleeping state, to the way her sharp cupid bow made her lips a thousand times more kissable, as if that was possible.
His eyes lingered a moment too long at her lips. He was unaware, as did hers.

The bond was urging them to act out.
He couldn't rid of his thoughts, though. He was an entity, and she was an angel. They were tied by an electrifying, mystical pull of which made everybody else fade in comparison. What was happening was an impossibility.

He felt unworthy of the beauty in front of him; he had done her wrong without knowing her. Now that he did, he felt every urge to punish himself for it. He would do everything at hand to stop what he had destined.

For the first time in history, the entity felt an emotion course through his body, radiating in the pits of his stomach. For the first time ever, Fate broke into tears.

Her heart broke at the site of her soulmate. She felt his pain. She caressed his cheek once more and planted a kiss on the forehead of the broken man in front of her.

All he could muster was one word between the muffled sobs of which rocked his being, and one only.

"Erelah."