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SPIN STARDUST INTO STORIES.

@flamedestined-blog / flamedestined-blog.tumblr.com

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              SHE HAS HEARD OF THE WRATH OF DARTH VADER, has seen evidence of it in their never-ending war ( but not with her, somehow never with her ), can even feel the heat of it though she cannot understand why — or how. It is she who is angry, she who has fire coursing through her veins, flames licking at her skin & at cursed beating organ that won’t forget & somehow he knows it, for he is using her love as a weapon. FIRE ONLY BURNS BRIGHTER, heat raising to her cheeks & she’s had enough, heard enough & cannot take anymore without doing something FOOLISH ( either she leaves, or she hurts him — no doubt hurting herself in the process but she doesn’t care, she only wants to inflict the pain upon him that he does each time he mentions Anakin Skywalker. Righteous anger overwhelms the pain — her Anakin? Weak? ) Gaze hardens, voice cold as stone & just as harsh.  ❛ Weak? Is that why you needed him gone? ❜ She shakes her head.  ❛ No. Anakin Skywalker was strong, in ways you’ll never understand. ❜ & eyes look contemptuously at machination holding semblance of a man together.  ❛ & I am finished. This was a mistake. ❜ She turns on her heel — NEEDS TO LEAVE & is glad for the silence he provides ( one he no doubt expects her to wait through but she can’t, won’t. ) — yet she doesn’t get far when toneless voice unforgivingly shatters her world. Footsteps still & she can’t see, can’t hear ( oh how she wishes she could not feel as well! ) — she does not even hear the crash of the communicator ( that she was still holding onto ) as it slipped through her fingers.  ❛ No. ❜
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            She cannot turn, does not want to look at the monster who would tell such horrors — for the sake of what? Cruelty? Was this why Darth Vader was so feared, because he knew just how to dig up unhealed wounds & leave you bleeding? She does turn ( must, has to see the machine & prove to too-fast beating heart that HE IS NOT HIM. )No. Anakin is dead. ❜ & she hates everything about the sentence — the way her voice still wraps around his name like an aching caress. The finality of death & the loss of her LOVE.  ❛ You killed him. ❜ Yet why do words sound almost like a plea, why does she want him to admit to such heinous crime, why does she want him to be dead? ( Because the truth staring at her is far worse. )
                 SHE HAD BELIEVED OBI WAN, HAD TAKEN HIS WORD for it had been all she had ( & in part, it was what she had wanted to believe, needed to hear. ) Yet she had not known everything. Phantom pieces to a puzzle she had thought complete because the picture was horrifying & was better left as it had been.  ❛ He would have found me. Anakin was a good man. ❜ Yet throat aches in cruel reminder of their parting goodbye — one that hadn’t been goodbye at all, for her breath had been stolen from her as she had looked onto the man she had loved to see a STRANGER ( a monster. ) Eyes WIDEN, lips part as if in a silent scream of horror. She takes a step back, head shaking in denial. ❛ You — you can’t be. ❜ Eyes shut briefly, lips pressed together as if to hold back the name that had risen to her lips. Yet broken sound voices it all the same.  ❛ Anakin?
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                                   ❝  you speak too highly of a man you once betrayed.  ❞   carefully spoken words are soft,  calculated in the coldness of their delivery.  how dare she once again lie?  had she thought him as strong as she now claims,  she would've surely trusted him  —  known anakin would do what was better for them.  body stiffens in the limitations of black cage,  suit not displaying what the being beneath it experiences.  but it is there,  the fire raging through his bloodstream,  the iced fury gripping evey inch of charred skin.  FOR A MOMENT HER SPEECH TURNS THE ROOM RED,  FAMILIAR SMOKE CURLING AT THE EDGES OF HIS VISION.  years might have passed yet his wounds still sting  :  they are deep and incurable,  as much as he's tried to close them.  padmé's return has brought nothing but obscure revelations he had been too blind to discover before  —  and perhaps amazement.  HE REFUSES TO NAME ANY OTHER FEELINGS SHE MAY EVOKE.  chooses to focus on the anger,  the pain,  the unforgiving wrath.  once he would've destroyed this place,  made use of such strong passion to obliterate what stands in his wake,  however he is now able to excercise control.  stop himself from hurting her like he did before.

                                  the canvas of her face paints many emotions,  a cruel symphony he cannot help but enjoy as resentment is clung to tightly.  there's rage at first,  replaced by disbelief,  by hollowness and by grief.  acceptance lurks underneath the shadows of marble features,  accompanied by reaization,  strange hope refusing its entrance.  RESISTING IS OF NO USE.  what he speaks is the truth  —  she's too intelligent not to see that.  a fist rises,  clenched as a finger points at her small frame.   ❝  anakin skywalker died in the flames of mustafar  —  kenobi made sure of that when he mangled his body and left him to burn.  ❞   if he could speak without aid,  such statement would ignite a fire in his throat,  choking him with sensations he struggles to keep buried.  parts of him take pleasure in her horror,  in the way her eyes open with begging doubt.   ❝  i was there to take his place.  ❞   and to rise from the embers a weak man had left,  so disgustingly defeated by a betrayer.  anakin  —  cursed name falls off her lips over and over again,  the urge to correct her hot on his mind,  though he refrains from doing so.  pitiful question goes unanswered,  for he has already stated what has become of their reality,  the one that brought them happiness in another life.  ❝  it is of no surprise that he deceived you.  ❞   like poison his mechanical notes grow in volume,  hate bright at the thought of his former master,  at the reminder of mustafar and the night he lost everything.   ❝  he turned away from me  —  just like you did.  ❞  ah,  the bitterness can almost go unheard behind robotic tone!  yet it is there,  seeds grown from the moment he'd realized those closest to him had been traitors.  

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              THE MENTION OF HER NAME, A FRIEND, THEIR FRIEND — it’s the first time anxiety has not poisoned his bloodstream at the sound of it. For the first time since that damn reaping ( when everything had changed — may the odds be ever in your favor — they had joked. When had the odds ever been in their favor? When had they become foolish enough to believe they ever could be? ) it’s not about her being in the games, but out. About her life rather than — no. Not here, he can’t. She doesn’t talk about her like some soldier sent to war, doesn’t look at him with sympathy either ( which he appreciates ) & it’s such a welcome respite from everything, it’s almost as calming as the spot had been. Tension leaves his shoulders as he lets out an exhale.
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                         ❛ It was. ❜ So’s this — in its own weird way. He watches as she tries to hold onto as much of this place as she can & he realizes how lucky he had been — for though she had many things most didn’t ( could only dream of ) he had always had this. Out of necessity first, but later on it became a necessity in order to breathe, to not let the raging fire swallow him whole. Brows raise in — surprise? Appreciation? Disbelief? Perhaps the three intermingled? Her bold words cause the corner of his lip to twitch, & he’s reminded of his own words filling these very trees with something similar. Bold or naive? What could she find fault with in the system that gave her everything? ❛ Fair huh? ❜ & he sees the way she straightens the slightest bit ( so not naive. Interesting ) & returns to their conversation as if nothing out of the ordinary had been shared. ❛ You wouldn’t? Then how would I know otherwise? ❜ How can he paint a picture of the girl before him that was more than strawberries ( he realizes he also sees trees, greenery around her now too. ) The way she adamantly refuses to accept what he might actually believe to be true catches him off guard ( as is the way she voices it, no hesitation — until after she’s said it perhaps. ) There’s the sound of his laughter ringing in the woods — bitter it may be, but not like always. Different ( like her, like this situation, like the mayor’s daughter sitting with the boy from the seam in the woods. ) ❛ How can you be so sure?
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                         at once she finds herself avoiding his eyes,  again preferring to settle on the marvelling scenery 'round them.  she does,  however,  nod slightly at his words,  head bobbing up and down in silent confirmation.   ❝  of course  —  i'm not blind.   ❞   there's some slight resentment hidden beneath her voice  :  has he always thought of her as naïve,  as the silly girl with the pretty dresses?  is he too prejudiced to see,  that even those wealthier are dust in the eyes of snow?  pain suddenly grips caged chest,  a sigh abandoning tight lips and lowered notes that should almost go unheard.   ❝  and i know exactly what kind of cruelty the government is capable of.  ❞   oh,  she  does.   it's there,  every day,  haunting her in the image of her broken mother  ;  a once happy girl whose world shattered when her sister was taken for the games.  someone who could be healed,  if only president snow was willing to treat her sickness  :   IF ONLY SHE WAS NOT A PAWN TO KEEP HER FATHER LOYAL.   gaze flutters shut for a minute,  lost in the grief such thoughts bring.  but she never explains,  never elaborates what cannot be pronounced.  instead,  madge undersee does as she's been taught  :  a smile lights up somber features,  playful tone chasing those shadows away.   ❝  a girl can only hope.  ❞   at his query the atmosphere transforms,  humorous laughter dangling off sweet tongue.   ❝  you could guess.  ❞   and there is a jesting quality to her voice.   ❝  though you'd probably fail  —  maybe i'll share for a couple more strawberries.  ❞   at his own joyous sound  ( one she has not heard before,  though it still rings with bitterness  :  it almost seems to make the air go still,  widen her eyes imperceptibly at the new discovery )  she grows serious,  a shrug rolling off thin shoulders.   ❝  i don't know.  ❞   she's not about to confess how highly she thinks of him and katniss,  how greatly she admires them for supporting their families against all odds.  so she merely gives no explanation,  blues returning to the other's stare.  ❝  i just am.  ❞    

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                     EVERY MUSCLE IS HELD TAUGHT, even her breath is held captive within her chest, as if braced for a fight ( though they always are — their lives now a battlefield. In war, there were no WINNERS or LOSERS — just loss & PAIN & she was all too familiar with both. ) He finally turns to face her & while it had been what she had wanted, features marred by dark mask give her as much answers as turned back — both are shrouded by machinery & SHADOWS. She doesn’t like his silent scrutiny, & had she not been so tightly wound, she would have shifted — yet back remains stiff & the only indication of discomfort as well as impatience can be traced to raised brows. Well? & THEN HE SPEAKS HIS NAME, A BLOW SURGICALLY PRECISE, SLIDING BETWEEN RIBCAGE & cutting the organ trapped within. Rigidity of form is lost, as is the breath that had been held betwixt silenced maw, leaving her breathless ( & in its place, ANGER finds its way within her chest, a fire burning a trail all the way to singed fingers where communicator is still held tightly, though hand had dropped to her side. ) ❛ You have no right. ❜ Words are sharp, & she wishes they could cut him, that she could somehow HURT HIM the way he has her so effortlessly. ❛ NO RIGHT to speak his name. ❜ So don’t. She almost turns to leave. ❛ Any truth that mattered died with him — at your hands. ❜ The only truth that mattered now was that SHE HAD LOVED HIM, still loves him, has two precious reminders of that love — & they are like a salve to the wound Darth Vader had inflicted ( temporary relief, but such was the burden of scars — they NEVER STOPPED ACHING. )
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                              astriction claws at delicate frame,  a strong grip ripping her edges apart,  fraying the ends of a body that belonged to him in another life.  composure is still retained,  however.  he admires her for it  (  always has  )  and briefly,  the intrusive thought flies through troubled mind again  :  she is alive.  empty heart beats with astonishment,  in anticipation of what is to be revealed.  though calm he remains  (  darkened visage communicates nothing but intimidation,  none of those invading machinations that seem to endlessly haunt him  )  there is,  dwelling beneath carefully constructed shields,  an odd feeling.  HE REFUSES TO NAME IT,  TO EXPERIENCE IT.  yet he knows  :  were he that boy,  who had once spoken about sand to impress this woman,  palms would be drenched in sweat,  throat dry with words stuck halfway through it.  such pathethic emotion is evaporated,  vanished for the sake of observing padmé amidalda.  it is truly incredible,  how a simple name is enough  :  anakin skywalker and her courage fades,  front begins to desintegrate.  THE DARK IS THRILLED,  FEEDING OFF HER PAIN AND ANGER.  of her grief.  massive form makes no move towards her,  instead choosing to interwine gloved hands behind his back.   ❝  you are mistaken.  ❞   once more the notes are toneless  —  slow in their pronounciation but otherwise vacant of sentiment.   ❝  or perhaps simply misinformed.  ❞   mustafar flashes under scarred eyelids,  the all - consuming fire he can almost feel again,  licking at severed limbs,  unforgiving.  in the midst of it stands one individual,  he who truly knows what has become of skywalker.  IT IS NO SURPRISE KENOBI HAS DECEIVED HER.  his cowardice unfurls white fury within mechanical chest  ;  the only visible sign pictured in clenched fingers.   ❝  anakin skywalker was weak  —  i destroyed him.  ❞   a pause,  determining which words will suit is intentions best.   ❝  but not in the manner you have been led to believe.  ❞   finally it arrives!  now comes the moment of truth,  a test he desperately wishes she will pass.  passion surges in his veins,  a force so intense he has not felt in years,  nests in his heart like never before.  seconds die while silence elongates  —  one,  two,  three,  four,  five.  tone rumbles deep in hollow bones,  colored this time by familiar red smoke.   ❝  —  I WAS ONCE HIM.  ❞

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                      THE   SOUND   OF   HER   NAME,   SO   FAMILIAR,   spoken   in   mechanic   tones   of   the   monster   standing   before   her   sends   a   jolt   running   through   her,   one   that   she   can   feel   in   the   pit   of   her   stomach,   crawling   up   to   the   back   of   her   throat,   leaving   her   momentarily   breathless   despite   her   sharp   intake   of   surprise.   She   had   been   senator   on   his   ship,   had   been   a   rebel,   the   prisoner,   but   never   PADMÉ   (   in   many   ways,   Padmé   had   died   the   day   her   funeral   had   been   held.   )   The   name   is   reserved   for   an   intimate   few’s   use   alone,   a   sign   of   familiarity   —   yet   toneless   words   make   the   lone   word   sound   COLD   &   impersonal   (   almost   as   if   he’s   speaking   to   someone   else.   )   She   doesn’t   like   it,   doesn’t   want   her   name   spoken   by   him.   It’s   that   indignation   that   she   uses   to   steel   herself,   wipe   away   the   momentary   shock   he’d   caused.   Back   straightens   as   she   stares   straight   ahead.   ❛   I   much   preferred   senator.   ❜   She   holds   the   device   out   for   him,   having   no   use   for   it   now   that   her   promise   had   been   honored   (   &   in   part,   she   wants   to   rid   herself   of   it   —   &   DARTH   VADER   —   altogether.   )   ❛   And   what   truth   is   that?   ❜  
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                              her robotically pronounced name evokes shock,  annoyance so clear he can almost taste it at the back of mangled throat.  tension swirls through the atmosphere  —  a burden that must weigth upon her shoulders while he thrives in it.  FEEDS THE DARKENED MONSTER LIVING WHERE HIS HEART SHOULD HAVE BEEN.  he does not turn at once,  instead chooses to remain unseen for next words should be carefully meditated  ;  a wrong step and her rejection would be instant.  a miscalculated phrase and she would leave  (  forcing him to find her  :  strangely,  the use of force is not preferred,  her willingness to listen a valuable asset  )  without thought.  cold mind is determined to stay detatched  —  perhaps that is why black body has not yet turned around.  is the sight of her so powerful?  is her presence enough to breach his control?  he had let her escape before,  an occasion where torture should've been his first choice.  many irritating questions swim around his brain  (  have done so since they met  )  until he decides to stare down at her,  cape flowing behind massive frame.  silent,  he examines lovely features,  aware such behaviour is bound to unnerve her.  blue gaze then moves to the communicator yet he simply ignores outstretched hand.  and when he finally speaks  (  ignoring her initial statement  ),  there is no inflection in grave notes,  neutrality colors his tone.   ❝   THE TRUTH ABOUT ANAKIN SKYWALKER.   ❞
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                   THE DEVICE RESTED HEAVILY WITHIN HER POCKET, ITS WEIGHT A BURDEN she silently carried. Never once did she allow it to be far from her ( lest he make good on his threat, yes, but perhaps in part, she was waiting in anticipation, knowing she was on the precipice of something, though she was not quite sure what. ) Fingers had picked up the habit of feeling for it within her pocket as of late &, when left to herself ( & the thoughts that kept her company became too much ) she would take it out, examining each inch as if somehow, the answers she so desperately sought could be found if she looked hard enough. And one day, though she got no answer, she did receive something that brought her a step closer — coordinates & a time.

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                     NERVOUS ENERGY RUNS THROUGH HER THE DAY OF Padmé Amidala is restless, unable to sit still, & is almost grateful when the time finally comes. This time, she will not meet the Empire’s monster unprepared ( though can one ever be prepared for Darth Vader? Can she ever be prepared? Had he wanted to harm her, he would have. ) When she arrives at the location, a shiver dances along her spine & she knows he’s there before seeing him. She takes a breath ( it’s shaky when inhaled, but even upon exhale ) before speaking. ❛ I’m here, just as I promised. ❜ Just as he had told her, though that is not what she says. ❛ Why am I here? ❜ / / ( @flamedestined )

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                              engulfed in silence,  surrounded by ice  :  that's the manner in which he awaits,  hollowness settled down  (  whatever is left of  )  alabaster bones.  merely a couple weeks have passed since their encounter   —   since the day he had stumbled across such important truths,  hidden from him by his master.  unable to avoid thinking about her,  a thousand memories  (  ones he thought long gone.  dead,  abandoned along with his old self  )  resurfacing alike an unnerving flood.  in their images there's FIRE,  all consuming and burning from within,  as hot as the one around him.  the grip of smothering darkness!  madness swirling betwitxt his veins in a rising symphony,  culminating when his fingers wrapped around her delicate throat.  

                              he had entertained possible outcomes,  intrigued if she would ultimately come. had been sure that she would not risk her friend's safety yet still uncertain at times.  BUT HERE SHE STANDS.  behind his frame,  close but always so far away.  nervousness clings to her body like a second skin,   respirator filling the pause when she finally speaks.  black form remains turned,  however willing to analyze her features,  a contemplative air woven in his words.   ❝   you have come here to learn the truth,  padmé.   ❞   it is now that he allows familiarity  —  a name he has not pronounced since the awakening.  seems to tangle within mechanical chest,  heavy speech grave and robotic.

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                 FRUSTRATION REPLACES RAGE, a different kind of anger ( a welcome change ) for he won’t even look at her, provides her with nothing but curt words & more questions than answers. Yet, for some inexplicable reason he was also providing her with a way out — an escape, a way to return to her children. The thought of Luke & Leia provides her with warmth that spreads through bones previously filled with shards of ice ( at the monster that had killed her love, at the cold admission, at the thought of nearly dying ) & from it, she draws strength. Her chin is raised higher, her heartbeat evening out, her steps matching his ( though it is a struggle, it is one she won’t admit. ) She doesn’t even let his blasé response to her query disturb her, won’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, she nods. ❛ Fine. ❜ She can’t, she won’t trust him, but right now, this was all she had & she had risked more than this before, did so every day.
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              YET IT’S AS IF HE ENJOYS IT, enjoys drawing her anger, finds amusement in it, at being the one who holds all the cards while she has nothing but LOSS ( oh but she does have more! That is why she fights, that is why she will have to trust the monster that has given her all this loss because today, today he was going to get her home. ) She looks at the device held within gloved hand as if its a bomb that will explode at any second. It could be, or it could be even more dangerous. Eyes narrow as they look back up at him. ❛ What, so you can track me & bring me right back? I don’t think so. ❜ She takes a step back, shaking her head. ❛ I won’t do it. ❜ Won’t put her loved ones in danger — won’t even tell him there are loved ones that can be put in danger.
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                             it is with hidden curiosity that his eyes are drawn to her face once more, black form  (   typically threatening,  a mass of chaos and destruction!  a botomless pit so used to dispair,  elation at the hands of suffering.  his cold presence envelops the atmosphere yet  —  no danger radiates from it  )  prominent in the midst of such silent room.  through the ice engulfing dormant soul comes a cutting source of warmth  :  immediately sensed by the power inside.  recognized easily as a foreign feeling,  radiant pureness that could never belong to him.  LOVE  ;  unadultered,  weak.  but it fills her with courage,  for her chin raises in defiance,  quick heart turns quiet,  steps seem firmer.  OH,  THERE'S NO TRUST ON SUPPLE SKIN.  on hands that would rather rip his bones apart,  on eyes that would glint with his death.  however,  she's followed him,  the monster and cause of her sorrow.  she's followed him and she would know the truth.   SOON.

                            ❝   THIS  ——   ❞   notes come accompanied by impatience,  though mechanics somewhat dull the intention behind them.   ❝   IS NOT A TRACKING DEVICE.   ❞   statement emphazised with a shake of dark helmet,  gloved hand remains closer to her frame.   ❝   it is merely meant for communication.   ❞   how vivacious she is to doubt!  it's what must have kept her alive all these years  —  that and fiery fight living in her chest.  she must leave,  yet he cannot let her escape  :  her mere existence creates too many questions otherwise unanswered,  haunting shadows that shall live in his brain.   THE TRUTH WILL BE UNCOVERED.  new words carry steel determination,  they don't have time for games,  commanding quality restrained by his respirator.   ❝   if you want to live,  senator,  you will take it  —  and you will leave now.  when you receive coordinates from me,  the time will have arrived for us to meet again.   ❞   expecting to be obeyed,  metallic man steps closer.   ❝   would you fail to follow these instructions,  make no mistake.  i will find you.   ❞

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                               THE SILENCE IS THICK, BEARING WEIGHT she cannot understand, catching in the back of her throat — choking her. The machine’s sound is eerie, the respirator a reminder that she was not dealing with a man but something else. When he finally does speak, it only furthers her frustrations, digs deeper into freshly opened wounds. She wants answers — no, she needs them. Yet when he does give her an answer ( an admission to something she had thought to have already known, yet the agony of hearing it spoken aloud by the killer himself leaves her reeling & in pain she had thought long buried ) she realizes some answers she doesn’t want to hear ( Anakin, oh Anakin. ) Murderous rage runs through her veins, fingers tightly wound fists & she wishes, more than anything ( possibly more than getting out! ) to have her weapon in hand, to make him bleed the way he had made her heart. ( Do machines DIE or simply stop existing? Do they feel pain or empathy, do they feel anything at all? She definitely wants to make him feel something. ) 
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                          Again, she wants to ask, wants to demand answers, ask why her ( why not Anakin? ) Yet lips are pressed together, muted agony felt but not voiced, words swallowed by the greater need to do just as he said — escape, to get to her children, ones who have already lost too much at such a young age. ❛ How can I trust your words to be true?TRUSTING A MONSTER, THIS monster? The thought makes her sick. Why was she to remain unharmed? When stifled words threaten to strangle her further still, she shuts her eyes briefly, willing herself to be strong, to take this chance & get back at DARtH VADER. He doesn’t even wait for her, begins walking, leaving her to stare at empty space where once DARKNESS stood, war raging within — until one side wins. Heartbeat rising, she’s at his side in moments, eyes scanning her surroundings, wary of a trap, of someone waiting to attack her. ❛ What’s the catch? ❜ She asks through gritted teeth, eyes never once straying to him ( perhaps that will make it easier, not looking at the devil when you make a deal with him. )
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                             his affirmation brings nothing but rage  :  consuming and boundless and directed at him.  in her expression she sees traces of the woman he once loved,  in the fight that lives beneath her ribcage,  in the fire inside her eyes.  but such anger is foreign,  brought about by years of misery and sorrow.  BROUGHT ABOUT BY HIM.  in that moment he can barely stand to look at her,  the reminder of mustafar fresh as an unexpected weakness.  such feelings he had thought absolutely buried,  dead along with his soul.  NEVER TO RESURFACE.   once,  there had been nothing to hope for,  only the shadow that then accepted what he had become.  but now  ;  now she's here,  now he realises everything had been a lie.   can almost feel his fingers tightening around her throat,  an invisible grip to silence her lying lips.  an uncomfortable sensation seizes up mechanical chest,  not quite guilt yet enough to avert covered stare from her lovely features.  strange emotion is quick to vanish,  concentration in the task at hand returning at his call.  

                            without her presence  (  a relief that merely lasts for a heartbeat  )   the air seems clearer,  his mind less befogged.   IS THIS CORRECT?   should he not bring her to his master?  but the thought is rejected instantly,  right fist clenching with fury.  SHE IS NOT DEAD.  sidious had lied,  promised him the power to save her,  led him to believe he had killed her  (  and their child!  )  in his wrath.  oh,  and he would pay for it.  soon padmé has caught up with him  —  still hidden gaze stares at the walls,  mask angled away from her form.  ❝  perhaps you cannot.  ❞   soft rumble of metallic chords,  the musing comes in dull notes.  ❝  but you will have to risk being mistaken.  ❞  as many days as they've spent apart,  as different as they now are  —  he knows her.  ALWAYS WILL KNOW HER.  dark frame guides her towards a shuttle,  the hangar clear as he suspected it would be.  lips slightly twist into a smirk,  amused at her intelligence though surprised he should not be.   ❝  i was hoping you would ask,  senator.  ❞  from his robes he produces a device,  a humble offer laid in the palm of gloved hand.  he towers over her then,  respirator wheezing with every breath taken.  ❝  take this with you,  and i shall let you go.  ❞

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                        ANGER  &  HATRED  BURN  THROUGH  HER  VEINS  as  she  stares  defiantly  back  at  the  man  (  the  thing  )  before  her  —  was  this  the  last  thing  Anakin  saw?  (  Would  she  see  him  after?  )  This  was  the  monster  that  took  away  her  love,  her  heart,  had  left  her  children  without  a  father  —  &  soon,  without  a  mother  as  well.  The  thought  breaks  her  heart  yet  she  has  come  to  learn  to  draw  strength  from  her  pain,  to  use  her  agony  as  a  means  to  push  her  forward  (  sometimes,  it  is  all  she  has  going.  That,  &  her  love  for  her  two  beautiful  children.  )  She  wants  a  fight,  she  wants  her  anger  to  be  felt,  for  it  to  burn  him  the  way  it  did  her,  the  way  it  singed  her  flesh  (  does  a  mechanical  man  feel  fire?  )  yet  he  gives  her  no  such  satisfaction.  All  she  receives  is  silence,  the  kind  that  weighs  heavily  upon  the  rapid  rise  &  fall  of  her  chest  —  &  then  he  leaves  her,  doesn’t  even  wait  for  her  to  follow.  Fingers  curl  into  fists  yet  before  she  can  voice  her  frustration  he  speaks  &  she  is  silenced.  Clenched  fists  unfurl  as  brows  raise  in  confusion  as  his  words  sink  in.  His  arms  are  crossed  as  if  she  is  a  burden,  an  inconvenience  &  that  drives  more  anger,  more  pain.  ❛  Make  it  —  out  of  here  alive?  ❜  How  come  she  is  allowed  to  leave  with  her  life  when  he  hadn’t,  when  her  Anakin  was  not  shown  the  same  mercy.  The  confusion  &  fresh  cuts  upon  ill-healed  wounds  leaves  her  raw  &  pained.  ❛  Why?  ❜  It  sounds  more  like  an  accusation  than  a  question,  a  demand  rather  than  a  request  for  answers.  ❛  —  why  provide  me  with  mercy  when  you  have  taken  so  many  lives.  ❜  Voice  shakes  the  slightest  bit,  untraceable  to  those  unfamiliar  with  Padmé  Amidala.  ❛  You  killed  the  man  I  loved  —  ❜      Expression  hardens  (  as  heart,  too,  is  reminded  to  do  the  same,  she  cannot  afford  to  show  WEAKNESS  )  ❛  —  don’t  expect  me  to  believe  you  won’t  do  the  same  to  me.  I  am  no  fool.  ❜  
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                             wrath burns bright,  obliteration of the constellations he could've once counted inside her eyes.  indeed,  years have flown & carved a path of agony in their wake,  shaping the woman that now stands before him.  never had he seen such hatred darkening her eyes!  WHAT HAVE I DONE TO YOU,  MY LOVE?  masked features remain unchaged,  set in stone as they drown in her,  still unwilling to believe she is alive.  but a mind as cold as a dead star cannot entertain fatuous matters of a heart long gone  —  she needs to leave.  ❝  my reasons are my own,  senator.  ❞  sensed turmoil  :  her feelings brew a storm,  confusion palpable in gloved fingertips.  & when she speaks again,  just as he's about to rush her,  words get stuck in mechanical chords.  FOR SHE'S NOT WRONG.  she loved anakin skywalker  :  a weakling,  controlled by the jedi,  controlled by his fear & attatchments.  that man is no more,  consumed by the dark  (  smothered remnants scream at the memory  —  there was never a dragon,  there was never vader,  only him  )  terminated by his own actions.  after so many years his name has become distant,  belonging to another time.  HOW ELSE COULD HE DEAL WITH HIS MISTAKES?  WITH THE SHADOW THAT TOOK PADMÉ'S PLACE?  she thinks darth vader killed anakin skywalker   —  how utterly right  (  and wrong  )  she is!  he died,  the day he was led to believe he had killed her,  the day he embraced the darkness like an old friend.  long pause stretches,  cursed respirator filling the silence.  ❝  i did  —  ❞  is the answer that comes,  determined to deceive her still.  someday she'll know   (  what consequences will such discovery bring?  )  but for now she must stay safe.  ❝  but i will not harm you.  ❞  not again.  ❝  i didn't think you'd be as foolish as to waste the opportunity to escape.  ❞  statement finished & he's begun walking,  heading towards the hangar,  hoping she'll follow.

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                RESTLESS NIGHTS SPENT shifting in bed — it’s nothing new, nightmares are almost as familiar a presence in her room as — she covers her head with a pillow, a low groan escaping her lips. As if burying her head will kill the thoughts that still roam through her mind ( Julian. Always Julian. If he’s okay, if he hates her — that’s what she wanted, right? No, the thought hurts. If he believes all the lies & the cruelty, if he still cares. ) The irony of it all is, before everything, she knows where she would have gone ( instinct still has her walking past his door, lingering if only for a few seconds before going after whatever excuse she’d used to drag herself out of bed — she needed water, needed air, needed … ) CAN I STAY? Their code, their wordless plea for the one thing in their lives they could have both counted on ( until even that was taken away. ) Frame stiffens, every muscle in her body locked ( as if bracing for a battle, always at WAR ) when she hears a scratching at her door.
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                 & then it hits her, like ice water being spilled over her. It’s worse than an enemy finding its way to her room ( hell, she wished it was something she could fight, something that would get her blood pumping & make her exhausted enough to allow for a few hours of sleep. ) No — they were parabatai after all, they felt what the other wouldn’t say, he knew ( yet why was he still here? After everything? ) Eyes shut briefly, deep breath taken ( she never needs to brace herself for battle, yet here she is ) before she finally allows her voice to cut through the darkness. ❛ — Mark? ❜
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                                 with blank eyes he stares at the white canvas,  fingers securely tightened around his favorite brush   (  as if somehow the familiarity were enough to get him through the night  )   in another pointless attempt to paint.  fervently he wishes,  wills himself in an almost furious manner to create something.  a landscape   (  but not the beach,  not their place  ),  his sibilings,  the institute  —  even wretched church would be acceptable.  ANYTHING BUT WHAT HIS SOUL ACHES TO POUR.  closed eyes & he only sees her  :  golden haired,  fierce,  warm.  a masterpiece that deserves to be drawn.  emma,  emma,  emma.  the name is a constant companion nested besides worn down heart,  a whisper buried underneath tender skin he'd rather rip out.  anger boils inside,  making him exit the room,  fists at the side of his body in a stupid atttempt to find release.  his mind is long gone  ;  chasing after delusions of a love that could've been returned.  & that's how,  in the dead of night,  his feet carry julian towards her door.  he knows he should not be here,  that walking away would save him from unnecessary pain   (  & her,  from an awkward encounter  )   yet he cannot leave.  HE NEEDS HER,  MORE THAN EVER.  but how can they ever be what they were once upon a time?  

                                fingernails scratch on dark wood before he can think,  although not before he can regret.  there's silence & it's deafening,  it's suffocating him with the strength of a hundred demons.  almost hoping she'd be asleep,  he turns,  prepared to find no peace in his own room.  but then,  then she speaks  :  the name muttered by her lips is worse than anything he's ever felt.  worse than weeks of being away from her,  worse than being told her feelings were merely of friendship.  it cuts through his chest like a seraph blade,  tearing apart whatever's been left of his heart.  & even then,  he's not able to ignore her,  he has to reply.  somber notes fill the atmosphere,  slowly opening the door as he curses himself over & over again.   ❝  no,  it's julian.  ❞  

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i loved you so much and i couldn’t save you. do you know what that’s like, when your hands aren’t stable enough to hold something so important. to watch your own reflection drop everything precious in this world into the fire. do you know what it’s like to burn alongside, whispering, please, i tried, i swear to god that i tried
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                       SHE IS ON PINS & NEEDLES, ON THE PRECIPICE OF SOMETHING yet she knows not what. She is frustrated that, even now, so close to the end, she has less answers & more unknowns. Her heart is hammering away in her chest, its pace quickened by the anger in her words — by the reaction she had expected ( yet again, is only returned with SILENCE — naught but the eerie sound of the respirator breaking it. ) Was he angry? Was he surprised that she had spoken the way she had ( the way, likely, nobody had before? ) Was he amused ( could he read the fear that she kept beneath perfected façade — her children, what about her children? What about the few people she could still call family, still loved though never quite as wholly as she once had? ) Something shifts in the room ( she hasn’t been this attuned to something that isn’t quite there in a long time ) & she can’t help the jump that comes with the suddenness of the door being thrown WIDE, gaze snapping briefly away from the DARKNESS before her before returning, a moment of vulnerability escaping through the c r a c k in hardened veneer. Why not here? Why all this dancing around the inevitable ( after all, no one survived DARTH VADER, she knows that. Why prolong it? ) ❛ Why don’t you just get this over with? ❜ Breathing is slightly ragged, eyes aglow with anger interlaced with everything else that is coursing through her veins. ❛ Why do you keep hiding instead of facing me? ❜ Like that damned mask, the one that brings about so much dark hatred within her heart, more than she knew thought herself capable of ( & that bothers her. )
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                                four years have passed.  agonizingly slow,  a blur of nothing but bloodshed & vengeance for him  ;  who knows what destiny prepared for her?  a rebel she is  —  the word accompanied by a bitter taste.  she’s everything he seeks to destroy,  scum he’s been forged & created to wipe out.  on opposing sides   (  ironic remembrance of a time comes to mind,  when he’d thought her a traitor to the chancellor.  the petition of the two thousand seems awfully small compared to the group she’s joined  )   they now stand,  rebellion & empire colliding in the corners of a fearful galaxy.  around them there’s a fight,  in this room none of it exists.  TIME HAS NO MEANING,  WAR HAS NO MEANING.  their connection still remains  :  weakened & almost obliterated but alive.  with the force he digs,  searches her feelings without alerting her,  merely scanning the surface & no more.  there’s opposition,  hatred,  anger  —  fear.  SHE’D ALWAYS BEEN STUBBORN,  preapared to endure for what was right.  even under torture   (  one he would not submit her to  )   she would not speak,  would not reveal the secrets he so wished to possess.  dark cape floating behind him,  mechanical man exits the room,  certain that no other living forms are around.  HER TAUNTING IS IGNORED,  mask only turning towards her when the floor is deemed secure.   ❝  i suggest you lower your voice, senator.  that is  —  if you wish to make it out of here alive.  ❞   arms cross underneath robotic ribcage,  impatience not quite demonstrated through his artificial notes.

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                  AGAIN THERE IS SILENCE, AGAIN SHE DOES NOT KNOW what is going on beneath the darkness that is his mask, what sort of face is looking back at her? What does he see? Is he staring down at her with a smirk on his lips for capturing Senator Amidala or an anger as dark as the blackness that surrounds him? She cannot know & it unnerves her, leaves her feeling too exposed & he, not enough. What does he want from her? If it’s information he seeks, why has he not asked — or tried to torture it out of her ( either way, he will be disappointed for he will get nothing. ) Anticipation trickles down her spine like ice water, a shiver threatening to expose her when he speaks. Typically. What of the others? How many have died for this man, this thing? She says nothing, yet brows raise in silent query — again she waits in silence. Gaze darkens in anger ( & hatred ) when he finally b r e a k s it. ❛ Of course I do. ❜ & clearly he knows of her. There is a sharpness to her words, voice heavy ( like her heart. )Darth Vader. Palpatine’s monster. I don’t need rumors to confirm that your reputation is true ( for DEATH has followed her by his hand since the moment she lost her heart, her love ) — you’re a monster, Palpatine’s monster. ❜ Chin is set, for if she is to die, she will do so proudly. ❛ Is that what you wish to hear, Lord Vader? ❜
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                              her words are weapons, poison coated knives aimed straight for the hole where beating heart should be.  OH, HOW TRUE THEY ARE!  the faint pain of denial whispers into his brain & vanishes once again  :  for he once seeked to fight the very thing he has become, once would've raged & battled & savaged such power running through his veins.  yet that person is gone  —  had perished the day he thought padmé anidala dead.  an old fear remembered like a recent memory  :  all things die  —  even stars burn out.  HER LIGHT HAD DISAPPEARED & SO HAD HIS.  left him in utter darkness with no beacon, a starless night that seemed to stretch & stretch & stretch until the ends of the galaxy.  only hate had remained, burning with passion against those who had wronged him  ;  rage charring whatever vestiges of anakin had survived.  A REAL MONSTER HE HAD BECOME, EVEN BEFORE MUSTAFAR.  a product of his own wrongdoings, there was no one else to blame.  not even him who had promised power & salvation, for the end had come at his hand.  yet now, with her standing here  ;  now everything has changed  —  & nothing has changed.  HE IS STILL A MURDERER.  blood drips from corrupted soul after twisted acts of revenge.  she's alive & she hates him.  she's alive but she doesn't know the truth.  speech is ignored   she is right  :  what is there to say?  )  for the sake of silence, heavy breathing filling the room as he turns towards the door.  fingers move in a familiar motion & it's open, black form steps away although all he wishes is to be closer, make sure she's real & here & okay.   ❝  follow me  —  now.  ❞
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                HE LOOKS AWAY WHEN SHE LOOKS TOO CLOSELY, gaze levelly held on the greenery around them ( instead of the stormy blue before him. ) Her surprise at his decency washing over him with something akin to guilt — he was not always all HARSH EDGES & a fire licking away at his very soul ( but he can’t remember a time before, for the little boy that had yet to understand the cruelty of the world around them DIED the day his father did. ) Eyes widen infinitesimally at her name & at the idea that she had shown Madge Undersee the woods, the ones her father reminded everyone was forbidden ( though oftentimes turned a blind eye. ) Clearly she had seen something in the girl, something he was beginning to see traces of now that he was looking. She calls it breathtaking, he calls it the only place he can breathe, if only just. ❛ Yeah. ❜ Her cheeks flush the way Posy’s would when she was determined to say something but worried how her big brother would take it — & WARMTH accompanies the comparison his mind makes, & he tries to assuage her, in his own manner. 
                ❛ Sometimes we’d talk about it — a better world. ❜ Sometimes he believed it may have been possible. Rueful smile twists his features as he realizes how foolish he had been. ❛ But what better world than the one we live in, right? ❜ She is the mayor’s daughter, he needs to remind himself. ( Mind your tongue. ) Her words, gently chiding while remaining friendly gives him pause — what does he know about Madge Undersee? Eyes take in the girl sitting in the woods, perfect dress seemingly out of place, yet she breathes in the air as if there isn’t anywhere else she wants to be. ❛ Really? Like what? ❜ He tries not to shut down at the mention of being just that — a hunting boy. Hunting had been a means of survival ( & later, a way to keep breathing, to clear his head & be with Katniss ) but what was he apart from that? A brother sure, the man of the house, but was he who he was because of circumstance or character? ❛ Maybe that is all I am. ❜
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                               steel grey that once held her gaze now moves away  :  the motion gives her no longer acces to his feelings, his thoughs  —  or to whatever little she could decipher of them.  teeth nibble on a reddened lower lip, a billion questions swimming inside her brain.  has she said something wrong?  has she said something STUPID?  it's almost exhausting, talking with a person & over thinking every single word that's to come out of your mouth.  yet finally having this chance   (  that of establishing a conversation with gale hawthorne  )   is enough to keep the tiredness at bay.  CAUTIOUS SHE MUST BE.  but still herself.  a small smile is thrown towards him when he turns  ;  she's noticed what's brought such change.  KATNISS EVERDEEN.  her name  —  it's enough to capture his attention & widen his eyes.  even gone, her presence in the woods is STRONG.  it creeps upon madge's heart & warms her soul, & she hopes it's happening to him, too. 

                                 ❝  that sounds nice.  ❞   twist of her lips widens at his own, fingers scraping at the dirt beneath them, playing with fallen leaves.  LIFE ITSELF COATS THESE TREES, THESE PLANTS.  blues cannot help but wander around with each heartbeat, marvelling at the sight she's only witnessed one other time.  yet they snap back towards his face, a soft snort of laughter leaving her throat  —  when she speaks a layer of sarcasm dances between her words, bitterness she's accumulated over the years threatening to overflow.   ❝  a fair world, for starters.  but i wouldn't want to get too bold.  equality must be an insane concept, after all.  ❞   orbs roll & only now does she realize people might be listening.  PRESIDENT SNOW MIGHT BE  —  no, certainly not here.  this place is too pure, too beautiful to be tainted by such cruelty, however she vows to be more careful.   ❝  many things.  none that i'd like to share, of course.  ❞  speech is pronounced with a shrug  ;  but a smirk remains, playful tone showing no ANIMOSITY.  gale speaks & she stops, shaking blonde curls in response.   ❝  i don't believe that for a second.  ❞   it's out before she can stop it, cheeks reddening once again.  she didn't mean to say it  —  even if that doesn't make it untrue.   ❝  i mean, it doesn't look like it.  ❞

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                              IT’S UNNERVING IN A WAY SHE CANNOT PUT INTO WORDS — STANDING BEFORE DARTH VADER & not being able to see who or what she was dealing with. Chills run up her spine & yet they stand in silence, the only sound that of the machinery that stands before her. There are no eyes for her to look into, no features for her to try to make sense of — only DARKNESS, though she stares intently at the mask, refusing to let it hinder her defiance. With nothing to expect, when he finally speaks, her pulse jumps, picking up its pace when understanding colors her features. Though the troopers had not been much company, they had still been company all the same, preventing her from being left alone with the empire’s most feared. She had only heard stories, ones of horror, ones she were to no doubt experience for herself. Though racing heart feels as if its trying to claw its way out of her chest, her features remain still ( though somewhat paler perhaps. ) Eyes narrow in confusion ( & somehow, she draws anger from it ) at his statement. ❛ I was under the impression you wished your prisoners to be brought to you alive. ❜
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                              SHE'S AFRAID.  a thousand reasons exist to be scared of him  :  the reputation darth vader has forged is one tainted with fire & blood.  WHERE HE GOES, DEATH FOLLOWS, & WITH IT, DESTRUCTION.  but padmé  —  brave, sweet padmé, she's too stubborn to let it shine through distraught features.  brown eyes   (  how he's missed them!  days have passed with only memories of their shape, their depth.  hopelessness at the thought of never staring into them again  ;  yet here they are.  alive.  HOW?  )   betray nothing while simply looking at him.  WHAT A MONSTER SHE MUST SEE.  more machine than man, more mechanical than beating heart.  although a bit pale she's still lovely  :  doesn't look any different than in mustafar, except for the expression sported by her face.  DESPERATION HAS BEEN REPLACED WITH CONFUSION.  a spark of something he cannot name, something he hasn't felt in four years   (  HOPE.  a feeling once lost scattered between wired system  )   ignites inside damaged body.  PERHAPS SHE DOES NOT KNOW.   ❝  typically  —  yes.  ❞   comes the breathy reply, no inflexion in robotic notes.  a minute of silence follows before he asks  :  ❝  do you know who i am, senator amidala?  ❞

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katsmoving
monsters do not yearn for the night, they ache for a light they can no longer reach, for the sun abandoned them long ago, leaving behind a moon that offers no warmth, and so they wander and mourn under a moonlit sky, hoping for a dawn that will never rise.

perhaps the sun was always a lie, and the moon the truth // k.s. ( via worthystevie )

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                       THERE IS BLOOD on her lips, a bitter metallic taste on her tongue as she refuses to wipe it away. Instead, her chin is set, defiance flashing in her eyes & even hurt, shoulders ramrod straight ( she will not show WEAKNESS, refuses to ever bow down — for once you bend, you break& they have already taken away too much from her. ) She had angrily asked who she was being taken to, demanded answers ( made sure that it was only she & she alone that was captured ) but she had received nothing but rough shoves & silence. A rebel, that is all she is, a rebel being taken to LORD VADER. It’s a name she’s heard ( that everyone has heard, for the destruction he has caused, the fear that takes root in the hearts of many, & the POWER he possesses — unlike any other ( she used to know someone, knew of a power that was meant to save them all. & the reminder, even after all this time, is fresher than any wound she’s received, hurts more than they ever can. Perhaps that is why she’s not afraid & stands so tall — there is no pain that can compare with the one she carries in her heart every second of every day. )
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           & eyes fall on the LORD VADER they all speak of — whatever she had expected was nothing compared to the ( MACHINE ) of a man before her. She had walked in as a rebel, but he calls her by name ( & the sound itself hurts, like a machine rusted from disuse, like the scratching of a nail. ) So she has been identified — chin raises just a little bit higher. ❛ I believe I should be asking you that, Lord Vader. ❜
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                              the galaxy has broke.  in a dance now constellations swirl, dull stars come back to life.  planets turn  :  cosmos disrupted by one single event.   THE APPEARANCE OF A GHOST.  waves of a past life crash into the shore  (  they're not soothing but relentless in their wrath  —  the shared nights, forbidden longing, secret touches.  the pain & death.  he'd been responsible for it, for all of it.  many hours spent cursing time itself  :  why must you be unstoppable?  yet with her in this cell it's ceased to exist.  almost as if he could properly breathe.  )  left hand clenching as initial disbelief wears off.  HE'S BEEN LIED TO.  like ash the memory burns down his throat, constricting the wires that allow him to exist  —  it seems in your anger, you killed her  (  i  —  i couldn't have!  she was alive!  i felt it!  )  charring his bloodstream are the words.  HE HAD BEEN RIGHT.  ❝  leave us.  ❞  mechanical voice abandons weak lungs  :  there's no place for questions.  door slides behind him & he's left alone with her.  HIS ANGEL.  silence grips the atmosphere  —  does she know?  that glint in her eyes, is it ignorance or raw hate?  THE UNKNOWN CRUSHES METALLIC CHEST.  as if he still had a heart!  ❝  i thought you were dead.  ❞

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