stigma

-|14|-

The grass was wet underneath his feat. The rain, a little violent and a little impassive, the wind blowing as hard as possible as if it were aware of the presence of a mere mortal on its earth, trying its best to bring him to his knees.

He glanced down at his quivering hands, inhaling and exhaling and trying so hard to control his heartbeat as it went haywire. He could feel the man's eyes on his back, could almost feel them cutting through him and perusing his every movement like he was prey. And just like that, all of a sudden, with the rain almost beating him to death, with the cold nipping around his limbs mercilessly, he momentarily wished he could fade away.

The man stepped up from behind him, his umbrella conveniently sparing him from the tireless rain. He turned around to look at the man, the wet hair that was sticking to his forehead obscuring his view. But he knew what the man looked like. How could he not? If the devil was real, he would look exactly like him- cruel eyes, rough hands, adamant tone. And if demons were real, the boy would look at himself in the mirror and see one. And if purgatory was disguised as Elysium with a sign saying 'do not enter', he would trip and fall tragically to his death because that's just how insufferable he was. He just never learnt. He just loved to torture himself unconsciously.

The man lifted his umbrella, slightly, just enough that he was able to get a good view of his face. The visible scorn etched across his lips was undeniable, like a butcher who regards the mangy animal that he's going to cut up next.

"Do you know what you're supposed to do?"

He tore his gaze away from the man. He could see the dark shadows dance across his face as he said this, hear the edge to his voice, sense the empty obtusity behind his words. What he was to do wasn't what he wanted to do. He was merely a puppet disguised as a king. He believed in fate, that he was destined to do this, that his actions were prewritten and irreversible. In another universe, maybe he was happier and he wouldn't have to make the choices he made. Which was why in this one, his actions were all the more important. But even destiny couldn't anticipate what would happen if he agreed. Even destiny wouldn't have anticipated the tall dark man with a suit. He glanced up briefly at the sky as the raindrops fell on his lips, the remnants of a quickly fading innocence that ceased to exist years ago. Lord so help him, he was a despicable vagrant even in his own home.

"Yes."

(a/n)
thank you so much for 1k reads! i've been writing this book for two years now and it's been with me through the turbulent instances and occurrences of the past years. in a way, it's been a small anecdote on my journey to self-discovery. thanks for sticking with ciara and the rest of the crew for so long ♡♡
-dan