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"Do you remember the first time we came here?"
"I remember."
"The stars were lovely then, too."
"Not as lovely as you."
"No, I suppose they weren't."
A sudden hitch of breath, then, and no more words for a while.
---
"I always preferred your stars."
"My stars?"
"The ones in your eyes. They don't have to follow the seasons and orbits. And when you get misty-eyed, they fill with nebulae, spreading through the void like ink through water. You were always at your most beautiful then."
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"I guess I never really thought about it. I never looked into another Rider's eyes that closely."
"Mm. And I know how you feel about mirrors."
"Y-oh!"
No silence, yet, but heavy breathing overtakes the words again.
---
"You know... there's something I've wondered for a long time. Do you think Bluebell Park is, like, opposed to fucking?"
"How do you mean?"
"Like... it's a place for dates, right?"
"And duels."
"...yeah. And duels. But... do you think it just sort of pushes people away, if they decide the date's going to end with sex? You'd think people would have sex in the woods all the time, otherwise, but if they did I never heard about it."
"Maybe."
"I think it's not a place for endings, not really. It's a middle sort of place. It wants to build the tension, not diffuse it."
"Mm."
"What?"
"Well, if you're right... I suppose we got the better of it, didn't we?"
"...yeah."
---
"...I'm pretty sure it fought me. There, at the end."
"...me too."
"I felt the sword twist away. I had to force it back, at the last moment, or it would have missed you completely."
"Yeah."
"Maybe that's why we're not dead."
"Oh?"
"Because it twisted our swords aside."
"Oh. ...yeah, maybe."
A fit of coughing follows. There's blood in it, as there has been before.
---
"I have a different theory."
"About what?"
"About why we're not dead."
"Do tell."
"I think it's that thing I said earlier, about it not being a place for endings. I think Bluebell Park is keeping us alive so we can talk."
"So we get to live until we have a moment of catharsis."
"I suppose."
"I guess we'll live forever, then."
"I guess."
---
"I've been thinking."
"What about?"
"Today was the first time I ever asked you to meet me here."
"...surely not."
"No, really. You always asked me. Sometimes I'd drop hints until you did, but you were always the one to say the words."
"So what about it?"
"I just wish I'd asked you before. Just once. When we were still in love."
---
"Can I ask a question?"
"I can't stop you."
"Did you mean to kill me, today?"
"...I'd rather you ask a different question."
"Too bad. I'm bleeding out, I pick what questions I ask."
"I could just wait for you to die."
"You might die first."
"Oh, true. I could just wait for me to die, then."
"Oh. That's a point."
---
"I don't think I meant to kill you. Not until the sword was in my hand. Not even then, really. I don't think I meant to kill you, I just... didn't know what else to do."
"I thought we weren't talking about this."
"You can't stop me talking any more than you can stop me from asking."
"Fuck you."
"A bit late for that now."
"Fuck you again."
Laughter, broken by a choking cough, follows.
---
"...no."
"No?"
"No, I didn't mean to kill you. I... I'd decided to. I'd decided that I had to. But I didn't really mean to. I just... what else are you supposed to do, when your husband rides into Town at the head of the apocalypse?"
"Husband?"
"...I always thought so."
"You never said."
"No. I guess I didn't."
---
"I've been thinking about it."
"About what?"
"About what you're supposed to do."
"Well?"
"I think, in a story, you should've taken me by the hand and reawoken the love in my heart. Possibly with lots of sex, although I think that's optional."
"Would that have worked?"
"I would've enjoyed the sex."
"No you wouldn't. You'd have been wracked by guilt."
"Guilt?"
"You'd think you were using me, or I was using you, and you wouldn't be able to figure out which, so you'd just feel guilty so loudly I wouldn't be able to enjoy myself either."
"...why did we kill each other, again?"
"...I don't know. It's not like this is working, either."
---
"You know, they say Bluebell Park is magical."
"Mm."
"They say what you feel changes the world, in Bluebell Park."
"Mm."
"So I wonder whether, if I really tried, if I just loved you with all my heart, I could just... give you what I have, and you could walk away."
"I don't think it works like that."
"Oh."
"Also, if you tried it I would stab you again."
"...I suppose that would be fair."
---
"Can you turn your head at all?"
"Not really. Why?"
"I wanted to look at you again."
"Again?"
"One last time, if you insist."
"Oh."
"It's okay. I can't turn my head either. Not sure why I asked."
---
"I'm glad the stars are out. I would have hated to die watching the clouds. Look, it almost looks like there's a nebula out there.
...are you still there?
...oh.
Fair enough, then."
And silence.