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“What’s your favourite colour?”
Silena plucked a strawberry from the picnic basket and popped it in her mouth as she asked the question. Her voice was soft, carrying on the wind. The birds that chirped in the background accentuated it like a choir.
Charles could listen to the sound all day.
“Hmm, hard question,” he said as he twirled a muffin around in his hand to remove the paper from it. He shuffled around slightly to smooth out a crease in the red-and-white chequered blanket they were sitting on. “I feel like I should answer with some flashy warm colour like orange or red, but if I’m honest, I think it’s the colour the sky is right now.” He looked upward, and Silena followed his gaze. Barring the few fluffy clouds that drifted here and there, it was a bright, pale blue befitting of the time of year: late spring. Silena’s favourite season.
She smiled. “A good choice,” she mused, “blue. The colour of the sky.”
The colour of your eyes. That was the actual reason it was his favourite colour. He grinned. “Blue’s a bit simple. I thought you Aphrodite kids were good at describing colours?”
Silena shrugged. “Light blue?”
“Don’t you know one of those fancy words?”
Silena clasped a hand over her heart. “What if I was colourblind?” she asked, faux-offended. “What if I don’t see the difference between shades of blue and you just hurt me deeply with that question?”
“You’re not.”
“…No,” she admitted. “But that’s beside the point.” She couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips. “But for your information, I once had a two-day-long argument with Drew about what the exact term for a shade of pink was, so do forgive me if I feel like I’m making a political statement by answering.” She glanced around to make sure Drew wasn’t secretly hiding in the bushes, then crossed her arms and said, “It was orchid pink, by the way.”
Charles dissolved into laughter.
“Yeah, yeah,” Silena said, narrowing her eyes, “laugh at the fact that Drew refused to speak to me for a whole day. Laugh at my troubles.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, covering his mouth, still laughing, “but you’re just so stubborn.”
“You love me for it.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I do.”
They looked at each other for a moment, smiling, before Silena pointed at his hand and asked, “Are you still going to eat that?”
Charles looked at his muffin. He’d unconsciously been playing with the paper. The muffin was a little flattened, and the blueberries had left smudges on his hands, but it was still good, so he broke it in two and handed Silena a half. “Here.”
She grinned. “Thanks.” They sat there in silence, eating their muffin halves. Their free hands lay on the blanket, fingers outstretched but just not touching. When they’d finished, Silena lay down, her dark hair splaying out over the blanket.
Charles raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
“Cloud-watching.”
He made a face. “Sounds boring.”
She shrugged. “It isn’t.”
“You’ll have to do more than that to convince me.”
She rolled her eyes, then said, “Oh my gods, look how much fun I’m having without you! All alone. It’s a shame I don’t have a nice, handsome, boyfriend—that would make this even more fun.” She turned her head to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Is that good enough for you?”
“I’m sold.” He lay down next to her. “So what do you do?”
“Exactly what the name suggests: you watch clouds.”
“But they’re slow. And boring.”
Silena rolled her eyes. “Use your imagination, Charlie.” She snuggled closer to him and pointed at a cloud. “See that one over there? Doesn’t it look like a jellyfish?”
He shrugged. “Looks more like a shapeless blob to me.”
She huffed. “You’re no fun.” She pretended to be offended and turned away, but, after having looked at the sky for a minute, she turned back and pointed again. “What about that one?”
He squinted, deciding to stop teasing Silena. “Hmm, maybe a sheep?”
“See? You’re getting better already!”
“I’m finally achieving my childhood dream,” he said, “receiving a degree in cloud-watching.”
She laughed. It was a clear and honest sound. If he had to choose one sound to hear for eternity, it would be this one.
They continued cloud-watching well into the evening. Her head on his shoulder, they fell asleep under the colourful sky, the faint scent of strawberries that the wind carried protecting them from dreams. Here, no one would find them. No one could find them. They were safe.
If he closed his eyes, Charles could almost pretend he didn’t notice Silena fidgeting with her charm bracelet.
Silena felt like her world was caving in.
The bubble she’d built over time, the promises, the hope, the lies. The idea that she was going good, the sense of security she’d lulled herself into.
It all came crashing down.
She couldn’t breathe.
She was drowning. Her sorrow, her regret, her guilt: it all came out like tears streaming down her cheeks. Though she felt like she could fill a whole river with her tears, it would never be enough. Never enough to apologise, never enough to make up for what she’d done.
He’d told her she was saving the world, that she was going to be a hero. He’d promised that he wouldn’t hurt anyone, that it wouldn’t happen again, that he would never harm Charlie.
All lies.
She felt like she was clawing at the back of a beast, trying to kill it, however hopeless it might be, only to be turned around to face a mirror and realise,
she had been the monster all along.
Only she’d been too stupid to see it, too stubborn, too close-minded. But when she realised, it was too late. She couldn’t get out anymore.
Had she ever truly believed the lies she’d told herself? Or was it more like hope, a story she thought would become true if she repeated it enough?
She was the spy, the traitor. The monster.
She avoided looking at herself. Anytime she accidentally caught her reflection, she expected herself to look as rotten on the outside as she was on the inside. Anytime she looked at her hands, she expected them to be covered in blood. Dripping red with the life of the people she had killed.
Lee. Castor. Charlie.
Her head pounded with their names, repeating them until she felt like she was going to burst. Her mouth tasted like iron. She had killed them, why did she still feel so weak? So mortal?
Why, after all this time, did it surprise her that the worst monsters were human?
After a while, she picked up her life again. Somewhat. She had to keep up appearances. Had to keep being a spy. The first time she looked in the mirror again, she lifted her chin, looked at her tear-stained and puffy face, and decided, jaw clenched, to put more effort into her looks again. The way she used to. If only to conceal the monster hiding underneath her skin.
She wore light blue nail polish for Charlie, and to hide the blood that stained her fingernails.