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"Don't look at me like that."
Two Times words came out slow. Shaky.
Staring down at the man below them, blood seeping into their slacks, grey fading to crimson red.
Beneath them, they felt his heartbeat slow. With every slow beat their own seemed to thump against their chest.
"Don't look at me like that, dearest.."
He didn't look shocked. Not even upset.
A small smile curled on his lips, blood coating his lips.
Slowly, shaky hands reached for Two Time. Cupping their face in his palms. They didn't dare lean into it.
"Two time.."
And, oh, they hated the way he said their name. So loving. As if his body didn't scream with every movement, organs split by a blade held by the very being he reached for.
A thousand words threatened to spill.
I'm sorry.
Forgive me.
I love you.
Slowly, they parted their lips. But they said none of those words.
"Lord Spawn," Their voice wavered by the second word. Why now? Why did they regret now? They both knew this had been coming. That only one would leave this field. This was the Spawns plan for them both. They weren't supposed to doubt--to regret following His plan!
They restarted.
"Loving spawn, may the holy sacrifice of my devotion cleanse my soul, strengthen my heart, pardon my past and restore us in your peace."
His heart slowed, no longer a steady beat beneath their palm. The hands that held them went slack, falling to rest at their shoulders.
"May I always adore thy by uniting myself in your holy sacrifice, the sacrament of your divine love.."
They yanked the dagger from his chest. They expected a sound--a yelp, a whine, anything. Yet he was silent.
"Help-" They choked on their own words. "Help us to find courage in our challenges and to trust in Your divine purpose."
And then they heard it.
Shaky words, mumbled with all the care he could muster.
"I love you."
And then it was quiet.
Not the quiet they loved, where it was interrupted by calm breaths and the occasional loving remark from either of them. Not the quiet of the chapel after a service, so many individuals united to worship the divine they held so dear.
Quiet that held so many unsaid words. Quiet that swallowed up everything they wanted to say and took ir somewhere they'd never get to. Quiet that took a life and gave one in return.
They pulled Azure forward, wrapping their arms around his waist. Almost expecting him to embrace them in return.
And, finally, only two words fell from their lips.
"Thank you."
They pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder.
"Thank you, Azure."
They could not regret. Not after everything--not after they've intertwined themselves with life. Come so far in His divine plan. So they gave thanks.
This was worth it, wasn't it?
The Spawn would be pleased with them, and grant them a life.
Pulled at the poncho Azure adorned, they straightened it, smoothing out the rest of his shirt as well. Pulling fabric over new and old scars, scars he'd only showed after months of unspoken worry and glances.
Not scars of devotion, of giving blood for the divine: scars of shame. Scars that spoke a thousand stories, told tales of nights when they should've been there but weren't.
So in death, they'd keep him covered. Preserve him as what he wanted to show, keep hidden the scars that he'd felt were so dirty.
They looked away. They couldn't look anymore. Not when his eyes wouldn't close, boring into them endlessly. They couldn't bear to look.
Standing on shaky feet, they gazed at the nightshades at their feet. Leaning down, they picked one, holding it like it was delicate.
His favourites.
Approaching footsteps reminded them that they had someone waiting. Amarah had asked to see them after they'd finished. Seems he'd grown inpatient.
Looking back one last time, they let the words they'd held in echo.
"I'm sorry."