Fallen Angel *Ghirahim x Reader* (Discontinued)

Chapter sixteen

The memory of the dance did not leave (Y/N)'s mind, even as the sun rose welcoming a new day. She had spent so long living in the shadows that she had forgotten what it was like to participate rather than just observe. There was a great difference between listening to people's emotions and feeling the emotion herself. Almost like feeling the texture and wearing the texture. Small but big difference. The warmth that Ghirahim's soul emitted was that of warm embers of the golden sands from the Gerudo deserts. Soft, steady but also spontaneous. The tone his aura sung did change pitch when she was around but kept the same song. She wanted to listen to the different tones and pitches his aura could make.

Her attention returned to the gentle breeze. She could hear a hushed whisper in the breeze. A cold whisper, unlike the ones she already heard that travelled with the wind. Slight harsh tone, slipping through the fabric of her clothing and scraping against her pale skin. The whisper was familiar to her and she felt her skin shiver. She held her palm out slightly, attempting to focus on the whisper, hoping she was wrong. Jumping to her feet, she teleported outside the throne room, her pale hand landed against the door and she froze. Cold, slithering hisses threatened the spirit's mind. (Y/N) took a step back and felt her blood freeze in her veins. Taking a small breath, she appeared in the throne room, taking refuge in the shadows of the room. Her (E/C) eyes widened, grey fear struck her crouched form, almost forcing her to stumble. Ghirahim stood, his dark eyes locked on the female serpent. Both of their auras remained calm, only their tones battled. Displaying a front of dominance, the way how water clashes in a storm. It took all of (Y/N)'s focus to not cover her ears and vanish into the shadows.

Cold, sharp pain from an invisible weapon struck her chest, allowing dread's grasping claws to scrape her rib-cage and clutch her heart. The ice spread through her chest, encasing her lungs to stop her fro breathing. Each breath was shallow and weak, the water was easier to breathe in than this. (Y/N)'s hand rose to her chest in an attempt to locate the wound to find nothing there. Why was Ghirahim talking to Mileena? He told her he hated her. He told her. . . (Y/N)'s head lowered as she fell to her knees. She could almost hear the Dread Demons laughing at her. The sound of the door slamming echoed around the room, Mileena's aura slowly faded. (Y/N) slowly picked herself up, her limbs heavy with dread.

"He clutches the dagger in his hand but doesn't stab through her chest. It finds a home in her back." Ghirahim's head turned towards the voice and he froze. He rushed over to (Y/N) to help her stand but she pushed him away. "You told me of hatred towards Mileena. Lies painted to look like truth are still lies underneath." she spoke, her wide-brimmed hat hiding her eyes. She didn't want Ghirahim to see her at dread's mercy. He promised her that her heart would not be harmed. He lied to her. He took her trust and crushed it. How could he lie to her? She stood upright and looked at him, the pain in her chest reflected in her (E/C) eyes.

"(Y/N), I would not betray your trust. She was here-" (Y/N) cut Ghirahim off by turning away from him as if he had hit her.

"Stop lying to me, Ghirahim!" her voice rose for the first time since she can remember. "I should have noticed it. The signs, the things you said but I was blind." her voice calmed as she spoke. She could not allow her anger to cloud her eyes and paint her voice. Her eyes locked with his.

"I. . . I thought there was a chance. Silver ray of wishing hope that a demon and a spirit could live without conflict." she took a light breath. "Live and feel the way humans do. But I was wrong. Demons were made to manipulate spirits." the words hung in the air like smoke, filling his lungs and cutting off his oxygen. The smoke's grasping grip clenched around Ghirahim's heart, this had to be a hallucination of some kind. He tried to force the grasping claws away and let the words building up in his throat be freed.

"(Y/N), I would never manipulate you." he said, ignoring the echoing words of his original intentions with the spirit. "Mileena is the one who wishes to use you." The hatted spirit turned her gaze away from the Demon Lord, she wanted to believe him but she couldn't. For every word he uttered, two lies stitched into each syllable. Cold, scarping nails gripped around her chest to stop her from breathing, her throat closed by it.

"F-F. . . For. Forg. . ." the single word died on her lips with each attempt. Her pale hand slightly shook as she rose it to Ghirahim. She knew that making him forget was the best way to heal the pair of them. But she couldn't allow herself to. Something was stopping her from making him forget. Her hand dropped, falling limp by her side as her head lowered. Dread poured into every muscle whilst icy sorrow flowed through her like blood.

"Farewell, Ghirahim." she closed her eyes as the smoke engulfed her vision and a light breeze whispered past her. Her eyes opened to the sight of the lake that once contained her. She felt the old pain here but it was shadowed by the gaping hole in her chest. Draining every ounce of joy in her body. Her eyes stung as a drop of water trickled down her cheek. She knew she should hate Ghirahim for using her, yet she didn't. He taught her how to become more human and in return, she released something he buried deep within himself. She found the truth of what she was and where she came from. But the lies he fed her would not allow her to return to him. Maybe she could make herself forget? Wipe away the false truth and paint over it.

No. She couldn't force herself to forget. Sweet, gentle warmth radiated inside her chest when she was with him. With Ghirahim. And to ease those memories would extinguish the glowing embers that he brought to life, something (Y/N) has come to cherish.

As the hatted spirit sat by the lake, engulfed in her thoughts, she was oblivious to the serpent eyes that spotted her. A small smirk twisted up the woman's lips.

He was an idiot! Ghirahim launched yet another dagger at the wall, an enraged yell escaping his white lips. However, his anger was directed to himself. Violently spinning and spiralling in his stomach like a snake trying to get out. He lied to her. He manipulated her. He had deceived the only person who made him feel more than just a sword, more than just a servant. She treated him as if he was a human, taught him how it felt to feel emotions again. . . and he pulled at her strings. Ghirahim's back slid down the stone wall, allowing his body to slump to the ground as a doll left abandoned.

He should have told her. He should have confessed to everything the minute he realised what he felt for her. Yet he pushed it aside as if it would vanish if he ignored it long enough. He was a fool for thinking that. The vice grip around his chest only made his cycle of misery more agonising. The air that surrounded the castle felt empty without her. The candles, whose flames danced gracefully, now showed no passion. Their glow seemed lifeless. How could he allow (Y/N) to slip from his life?

He couldn't stay in the hollow throne room any longer, not with the shattering memory that haunted his mind. Forcing himself to his feet, the Demon Lord teleported himself to his bedroom in hopes to find some form of peace. His gaze flickered out the window and he stopped in his tracks. Across the forest, a pale golden glow dimly illuminated the area. Drea swarmed his nerves in realisation.

"No."

Finally, Chapter sixteen is done. I am sorry for the long wait but I was able to finally publish this chapter. Thank you all so much for the views, votes and comments. And please don't hate me for the heart-break and the cliffhanger in this chapter. Thank you all again.