Author’s Note: A…writing exercise for…something. Implied everything.
.
I
There once was a demon lord, and he cared for no one until there was a tragic little girl. Scarred but blithe, she fluttered into his life leaving behind trails of flowers for her savior. He pretended she was nothing, but her everything was always in his peripheral vision, always in his protection.
He left her.
(She left him.)
He felt nothing.
(He felt troubled.)
She was nothing.
(She was everything.)
She was gone.
(And maybe he was, too.)
II
Then there was a young girl, and she was pulled into a fairy tale, falling for a timeless boy that treaded somewhere between demon and human. He was brash, but sweet. He was strong, but vulnerable. He was everything, but nothing at all. She was still, after all, only a fifteen-year-old girl, mistaking first love with true love.
She loved him.
(He was torn.)
She stood by him.
(He looked elsewhere.)
She disappeared.
(He ached.)
She waited.
(And waited and waited and waited.)
III
And then there were two mismatched characters trying to align jagged edge with jagged edge.
She saw potential in him, seeing white hair and golden eyes, a remnant of the past in her present. He saw innocence in her, optimism that was as deep as an ocean, a smile that shouldn't outshine the sun, something familiar but not quite. They held on to fractured memories, seeing only what they wanted, forgetting the pain they were both afflicted.
Like fools, she allowed herself to believe he might love her, and he allowed himself to believe she might adore him. They both knew, though, no one had ever gotten what they truly wanted.
In the end, him, her, them—they were all nothing but sad replacements in a very tired story.