Mirrors shatter on occasion. The shards are still reflective.
Sunlight still streams through a broken window.
Water is still wet, even when it's raining.
We never saw the sky when the sun began to set - or maybe it was sky setting in the face of a rising sun.
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"I guess I'm feeling nostalgic. Or maybe wistful is a better word...you can't be nostalgic if it never happened, right?"
"Walk softly, and carry a really, really big gun."
"All you have to do is love me most. Endlessly."
"Not only have we already crossed that line, but when we did, we shot, stabbed, and burned it."
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Feeling nostalgic.
"Do you think it's pure speculation?"
"Is what pure speculation?"
Eloro tilted her head. Teacups sat on the table beside her. Empty teacups. They seemed dull.
Light seeped through the windows. No rain touched the panes. The metal bards did not scold.
"Dasti?"
Dasti turned to face Eloro. She watched him, her hands cupped in her lap. Her eyes followed him as he paced. Dasti looked away. Eloro seemed old to him.
"Is what pure speculation?" Eloro asked again.
Dasti shook his head.
"Forget about it."
Eloro shrugged.
The teacups sat empty.
If it never happened...
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Soft.
Airthe breathed in. Softly, he reminded himself. Softly.
The church felt deserted. It wasn't.
Boots and their steps echoed. Airthe could hear them.
Fear wanted to paralyze him.
Softly, he had to remind himself. Soft.
Airthe rolled himself away from the wreckage. He pulled with his hands. He wiggled. He drew himself forward until his arms gave in. Then he tried to push with his legs.
Softly, softly, his mind warned.
Softly.
Airthe tried to push with his legs, what was left of his legs.
The church wasn't soft.
Gunshots.
Carry a big gun.
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Love me?
Saxiel felt Totaz' heart beating.
"Taz?"
Totaz looked at Saxiel, but did not say anything. He looked hurt.
Saxiel cradled Totaz closer and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
"I love you," Saxiel said. "All right?"
Totaz looked away for a moment. "You love me the most?" he asked. Through the city smog the words sounded small.
"The most," Saxiel agreed.
"Promise?" Totaz looked at Saxiel. "Promise?"
Saxiel nodded. "Promise," he said.
Totaz smiled and hugged Saxiel around the neck tightly.
Endlessly.
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Crossed the line.
"You sick – "
"Sick what?" Tsisas purred.
Bruesia had become a puddle on the floor.
Tsisas still held the knife. The knife was red-edged steel.
Ascaeliat couldn't recall if the knife had been red edged before.
Too many words crossed Ascaeliat's mind.
"Sick what?" Tsisas asked, stepping forward, waving the knife in the air. "Sick what? Sick what?"
Ascaeliat pointed at Bruesia.
"She's dead, isn't she?" Tsisas said. His voice sounded solemn.
Ascaeliat's nails dug into his palms.
Tsisas' eyes glittered and he stepped closer. "She was alive before, you know."
Ascaeliat threw a punch at Tsisas' face as hard as he could.
Shot, stabbed. Don't forget burned. Ah yes. Burned.
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