I own her and yet, I can’t have her.

Her body submits, her spirit submits, and yet still her heart resists.

Could I have erred somewhere?

The pale radiance that lit the room as she sat amongst the window still scattered from her delicate sun-kissed skin. Battle-hardened and yet flawless, every scar, a tome of discovery, dedication, and delightfulness.

Yet this creature of beauty and elegance was filled with nothing but fury and hatred. Her eyes, cold steel, had become deceptive, devious, burning with an invisible heat. Betrayed by her family and friends, her country and king, is it any wonder why she curses them in her sleep? And yet she shackles herself here with me, in spite of everything, despite her hatred of me, despite the removal of her shackles. Instead, she binds herself, donning the chains of oath, of obligation, as though she were still their sacrifice. Does she still believe that? Or is she punishing herself?

She didn’t scream, not at first anyway, but she never fought back. Perhaps, she hates herself most of all. She begged me to continue, even when I brought her to the brink, and yet I always thought it cowardly. She could have taken her own life, she certainly could have taken my own, and I’ve given her every opportunity.

I remember when, in a haze of rage, cold steel upon my throat, she had defeated me. Had one asked me then or even now, I would have sworn she’d have my head. Straddling me without hesitation, the pressure was ceaseless and enduring, I could barely breathe. Her hands were unflinching, calm like the soldier she used to be, like the veteran she was. But for what seemed like hours, we remained together in an embrace of death, locked in eternal conflict. The blade was dull however, nothing more than a decorative trinket, much like how her superiors treated her fealty.

When I awoke, she was perched upon the windowsill once more, basking in the stars. I asked her why she had spared me; I was sure that once free she would slay me in the same manner I had done her brethren. Pale, plump lips spoke softly, “My hate, that’s all I have. You can’t…take that away from me, not anymore.”

I’ve always desired those lips, I’ve watched them from afar, I’ve taken them by force, but never has she given them to me of her own accord. Truly, the only prize I’ve ever striven for. To taste their sweetness without the salt of tears or the sting of blood, for that I’ve toppled empires. Her hair, dark and unkempt, tangled roots like the forest outside, just like when she was a child. She had cut it short for the war, to belie her jovial nature, to transform her free spirit and playfulness into courage and creativity. It had grown back fierce, wild, defiant, but built of the shards of her spirit, soft thorns that entangled her. They pricked me as I approached, the last bastion of her heart made impregnable, but like the moth to a flame it only drew me in further.

Perhaps I enjoy the chase. Even when she…when we we’re mere children I could say I lusted for her. The attraction then was more innocent, more innocuous, like the common cold. Overtime, it mutated, a fever who chilled my bones. I became sick without her, clawing at the walls like a desperate beast trying to reach the sunlight. Even then she knew as well, she knew my urgings, my fears, but she was afraid of them, afraid of her own heart. Strained, a glacier lurched in front of us. In its shadow, her light became nothing more than a figment.

But I still remembered. I longed for it, pleaded for it, and bleeded for it. I rose through the ranks of service in defense of my king and country. The showered me with baubles and trinkets: glory, women, gold, despite my humble origins I wanted for nothing. Oh how I despised them for it, but the fury in my heart was a simple flame, while the heat from her now scorches the sun.

Yet, I hungered for her.

I only joined to see her, as she had joined as well. But she was different, sweet, ripened. Perhaps, she had dismissed it as our childhood fancies. The closer we became, the father her heart was. She became proud of me, jealous of me, lustful of me, and adored me. Is it any wonder I was unfulfilled? Is it wrong to follow one’s heart, one’s feelings? Would you have done differently? Why I was so willing, and why it was so easy?

I destroyed it in an instant.

I cast aside honor, loyalty, King and Country, all meaningless, worthless notions that did nothing but strangle my passions. Suppressing my convictions to simply take what I want, damn the consequences. And I only wanted one thing.

It’s amazing how quickly human figment evaporate when he unbind our true natures. Community, selflessness, morality, all less real to me than the smell of blood and iron of the dirt of wars long since past. Even now, I can feel her chains burning away, her hate simply scorches civilization away, leaving nothing but the bare earth of humanity. Bare dead earth, cooked by flames so hot that it is indistinguishable from ash, grey as the remnants of corpses around my castle.

I have not changed her.

I’ve merely uncovered her true form. The calm warm façade decayed away into cold radiance, shining amongst me, the darkness. Her heart may never be mine, perhaps it never could be. Perhaps, it was its distance, ceaseless as I roamed the earth hands outstretched to the stars, that I adored the most. A gleaming white gem of purity adorning the sky.

I glanced at her once more, a solemn nightingale, her head raised to the infinite blackness, speckled with figments of light. Slowly, her gaze descended and dropped onto me.

Her eyes lit the night.