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When ████ finds the letter she reads it over and over again. Bending over in cold dirt until the words are ingrained in her memory, the smell of ink burned into her nostrils. Paper cuts stain the edges of the page in a gentle crimson, the red seeping into the dirt stained paper. She presses her thumb against the name etched into the bottom, feeling the indent of where pen had met paper and she swallows down the feeling.
A word sits crossed out in the middle, four letters that she's still able to make out. She mumbles them back to the page—experimental, confused.
████’█ not sure how to feel as she basks in the gentle dawn light. Joy is the easiest emotion to force upon herself, filling her stomach with warmth and lifting a smile onto her face. She supposes it would make sense as well. The letter is sweet, holding the hero's kindness that she always carries.
But it's a sad letter to, isn't it? Those last lines draw her attention, captures her eye. Maybe she should be angry with the mentions of their argument, with the strange things the hero writes to her.
Her fingers trace along the looping letters, wishes and confessions that stir the pot of possible emotions into a bleak nothingness. It's the most authentic thing of all, a hollow emptiness within the forced beatings of a heart. She knows it's not what a human would feel at the sight but ████ lets the absence of feeling wash over her because in the moment she is thoroughly confused.
Within the next few seconds the letter becomes unbearable, the weight of the girls wishes heavy in her hands. So ████ crushes it between her fingers, crumbling up the confession and tearing it to shreds.
Weeks drone by at the pace of a budding flower. The gloomy winter settles, cold rain and frost splattering across ████’█ cheeks. She walks out among the streets during those dark night of grey skies, eyes scanning the shadows, gasping at the sound of lightning and waiting for a burning heat. No one comes to stop her when she stains her hands red though, and for weeks she becomes nothing but a relentless killer.
The rain is a light patter when she slinks behind a woman on the streets, eye tracking a bouncing head of red hair. The woman has known of her presence for awhile, she can tell. From a lone bus stop to a ten minute walk to a far darker, lonelier part of town.
She finds it entertaining to scare people like this, walk silently behind them for a lengthy amount of time before they notice something is wrong. Most don't find her frightening right away after all, the young, skinny girl with a near permanent smile.
Even the woman—when she turns down a little shortcut of an alleyway and Moea swiftly walks forward and taps her on the shoulder—relaxes at the sight of her. Those tense shoulders lower, chest deflating with a sigh of relief. A false sense of security as she reaches for her knife.
"Pardon me." She had not noticed the rain hardening around her, the pelting of it against her skin, "Ma'am, please step away from her."
She has no clue which the hero is talking about as she spins to look at her. She looks the same as their last interaction, an unchanged memory. Dirty blonde hair and white eyes, fair skin and that outfit that misses its blue cloak. She's better though, wounds healed and arm righted.
████ waits for something to happen. For the hero to attack or for her own roots to pierce through her skin. But a stillness permeates the air, the ticking clock of falling raindrops.
"Your arm is better." Ultimately ████ is the first to talk.
"Yeah," A single word spoken between rapid blinks, eyes that seem to look anywhere but at ████, "We have good doctors."
The woman had fled when the hero arrived, danger senses no doubt pricking at the sight of that spear. Her footsteps fade into the rain, hair a blazing trail behind her. ████’█ knife gleams a pretty silver, pressing into her thigh. For the night there is nothing that draws the two together, no damsel for the knight to save.
"I found your letter." Before either can move, ████ forces herself to speak through a fear—not of death but of something stranger—that tries to force her mouth shut.
She watches the impassive expression on the hero's face shift into fear, a rosy flush tinting her face. Her mouth opens and closes over and over again, a strangled sound making its way out of her throat.
Her voice is faint when she finally speaks, "I'm sorry."
The two words make an odd pair and ████ finds herself asking, "Why?"
The hero's eyes stay glued to the ground, silver spear scratching against asphalt, "I didn't want you to see it I- I shouldn't have written that after our talk."
"Well clearly you did, you put in a place I'd dig." At the base of her favorite bench, underneath layers of soft dirt and wrapped in a neat little envelope.
The hero's face twists in a look of shame, "I'm really sorry."
████ lets out a sigh, an exhausted sound, "You said that already."
"And I really do mean it I-"
"I didn't understand you letter," ████ cuts her off before she's able to start rambling.
"You didn't?" The hero asks slowly, confused.
"You said a lot of weird things," ████ lets out a hollow laugh, a small shake of her shoulders, "You want to save me but you don't want to stop me from killing people? That's dumb, that's really stupid. And you said you wanted to know me better? Then you said I'd kill you. I- why do you do this if you know that I'm going to kill you?"
The hero wrings her fingers together, clouds rumbling overhead in a sorrowful tune. She looks small, a pitiful sad thing. In the moment ████ knows she can fulfill that last paragraph, end his now with little struggle. But she doesn't, ████ waits.
"You read what I said, right?" It's a rhetorical question but ████ nods and hums anyway, "I- I really like you." Her chin is tucked against her chest, the words nearly lost to the storm.
"You love me," ████ corrects, the words just as small and the hero's eyes snap to hers, "You're not good at crossing things out."
"I didn't mean it like that!" She rushes to say.
Lightning strikes, close enough to light up the girls face, close enough to feel the faint buzz of heat. The hero flinches, ████ stands still.
Her eyes dart away, a small mumble of, "I don't care how you meant it," escaping her lips, "I just want to know why you said that stuff."
"Oh," the hero gives a small nod, "Because I care about you, even if you don't like me I really care about you." And in a quieter voice, "and love you."
Distantly, ████ notes that she didn't answer her question, rubbing hands up and down her irritatingly clothed arms. The girl had just spewed kindness and given her a soft smile, that genuine look in her eye.
It's almost sickening, ████ realizes with a small laugh. The way the hero speaks so gently to her, voice laced with what must be love. That odd little human emotion that she can't seem to feel without the help of a human brain. She'd experienced it long ago, pinned to a couch in a basement, swapping mucus and enzymes between herself and another.
She drags her eyes slowly up to the hero, wondering quietly if that was what she envisioned with her. That perfect life where they touched lips and tenderly held hands, a world wherein ████ was saved, a little angel and oh so grateful to her knight. She feels her lips curl down at the thought, eyes darting away.
"You don't love me." The words worm their way out of her throat, sour on her tongue.
She hears the hero splutter, doesn't bother looking to her expression, "I-"
"You love her." She tries her best to sharpen her voice but fails, roots slack in her brain as fingers scratch at her sweater, "You love the image of me happy and safe and non-violent, saved by you."
"What are you-" she can hear the change in the hero's voice, the moment her eyes land on the ghost.
The girl stands at the edge of the alleyway, head torn apart by ████’█ own root mass, petals sticking to her hair. Blood sinks into her shirt, drips down her forehead. She stares ahead with a blank expression, what may be ire, what may be sorrow.
████ rips her gaze away and as the hero is distracted walks forward. She rips the spear from the others grasp, earing a confused cry from the hero as she slits herself open. Roots hold her intestines inside, a mass of writhing tendrils the girl has seen before but she still recoils, worry overcoming her features.
"This is what I really am—the roots, the flower—that's me, a parasite inside of a corpse." ████’█ laughter is sharp and forced. "You see? I'm evil, I'm cruel and you- do you still love me?"
The hero remains silent, eyes blown wide and darting between ████, her roots, and the ghost. Fear is etched into her features, a deep confusion as her brain attempts to process the confession. ████’█ eyes wander down, tracking the breaths she takes, counting the rapid rises and falls of her chest.
An answer does not come, the silence as good as a denial.
The spear hits the ground with a heavy clang and ████’█ soles hurt as she spins on them. Crimson leaks from her roots and she knows she'll make a path behind her, fertilizer that will seep between the cracks of concrete.
She makes it two steps.
"I love you." She barely hears her voice as lightning cracks across the sky, ████ feels the heat from here, "I'll always love you."
She cranes her head back slow, watching as the girls eyes burn with a sort of determination, "You are evil, and so cruel. I've seen you torture people and laugh- I mean I've been on the receiving end of it but- but you're so much fun." The hero takes a step forward, a slow and careful one, "I like fighting you, and talking about how stupid you think my job is, and watching the clouds with you. You're- stars- you're so weird, I don't get you at all and that makes me want to know you more. Every moment we spend together, even when it's just for a little while, it's nice. It makes me-" The hero pauses to take in a gulp of air, rapidly blinking, "you make me really happy in a way other don't. Even when you kill people and you taunt me afterwards and I feel horrible I can't be mad at you because- because I just love you so much I-"
She watches as the hero does her best to stop herself from breaking down, and she realizes how often the girl cries. Warm tears bubble in the corner of her eyes and ████ finds that a hand reaches up though the distance is to large.
████ wants to touch her. The realization hits her hard like the strike of lightning. She wants to run her fingers along her soft cheeks, picking up those warm tears. She wants to drag her nails across her skin, drawing blood and licking the taste of iron off of her fingers. She wants to be cruel to her, to hurt her and watch her face contort, and then for that expression to break into that smile. Lips crooked as she laughs at ████’█ antics.
████ feels warmth blooming along her spine, in the roots that wrap around it, her little puppet strings. But it's not love, it's not.
"I can't love you," the hero's eyes snap up to hers, full of tears yet like she'd been expecting it.
"I know that you don't." Her voice sounds defeated, pained in a way ████ hates.
"No I-" Knowing how the hero has taken it, she splutters. Her jaw bones are suddenly heavy in her roots, larynx a complicated organ. Her brain moves impressively slow and she wills her mouth to move to its pace, "I was not given the ability to love, I am not capable of it."
She feels the eyes on her flower, looking up as the hero wipes her eyes once more. Her cheeks are flushed a rosy color, the cold and tears working together.
"I- what-" She sees the millions of questions behind the girls eyes, the resolve in her as she blinks, "That's ok."
Her voice is achingly soft, impossibly sweet. ████ shakes her head, "You want me to love you, and I can't."
"No I- I don't really- stars I'm sorry I've never explained this to anyone." The hero places her head in her hands, taking in a large gulp of air before looking back up. "I uhm- I don't think I can love either? At least romantically."
████ looks at her for a long moment, confusion churning in her gut, "But you said-" and she lets her voice trail off.
The hero nods, "I know but- and that's true it's just not like that." Her eyes melt a hole into the wall behind ████’█ head, narrowed as she focus' on getting her words out correctly, "You're more dear to me then a friend, but I don't think of you as a lover."
The hero sighs, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have confused you, that's why I crossed it out. You really weren't supposed to see it." She lets out a wet laugh and ████ gets the feeling she may cry again.
████ didn't know she could feel such relief until now, at least without pumping the emotion into her stolen brain. But she feels it flowing through her roots, the knowledge that her hero doesn't want her.
"I get it," she mumbles very quietly and her hero looks up, a worried sparkle in her eyes.
No, maybe she doesn't. Love is an earthen emotion, abstract and complicated and strange. She was not built with the function, the need for it.
But ████ knows what fulfillment feels like, that warm feeling crawling through her roots and the bleakness of having it stripped away. And she knows that her hero in front of her makes her feel oh so warm, fills her with a strange delight.
Her hero's name is a whisper under her breath, "I like hurting you." She tells the girl. She watches as she perks up, where others would have recoiled in disgust, "Breaking you apart and hearing you scream, it's the most fun I've had in all of the years I've been a villain. I like it when we talk or when you leave me those muffins." She takes a large breath, "I don't know what it feels like to love someone but- but you make me feel warm, and cold when you're gone."
She's not sure when her eyes sank down, but she lifts them to the image of a wide-eyed girl.
And ████ mutters, "I love you."