Deserving of Death

              There he lies on the floor, sleeping on his back, sprawled out across the blankets and pillows that formed his makeshift bed upon the floor. Though he’s sleeping, his body is rigid and tense. Just like him, being ready for anything. I slip off of my bed to rest on my knees beside him. Why can’t he ever feel peace? I cautiously bring my hand to his face, holding my breath as I do so. As I had hoped yet dreaded he would do, my touch seems to calm him rather than disturb his slumber.

         “Fool,” I whisper to him, squeezing my eyes shut. Do I really want to do this? This is redemption, I must. My hands are sliding down his face and I can hear my blood pumping now. My hands are upon his neck, my fingers encircling it. Now all I need to do is squeeze. I try not to look at him, at the way his brows furrow even in his sleep. I try not to think of how I could make him smile; erase the pain from his face. I try not to think of him with his olive eyes opened, vulnerable and kind when regarding me.

         Like my mother. But she’s dead now. I’m choking on this bile. I would protect him from everything if he didn’t deserve death… I can feel my heart twisting. I hang my head, my dull, flaxen hair spilling over my shoulders, brushing his face. The tears are coming- but what am I crying for? As I resolve to tighten my loose fingers I’m twisted and slammed to the ground, the breath knocked out of me. I look up to meet his confused green eyes.

         “Luna!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know- I’m sorry-,” he stutters anxiously, getting up. “You- you surprised me. I’m sorry, Luna.”

         “I know,” I reply, blinking back my tears. As I relax my tense shoulders I feel my heart is in tact, now gently thumping. “I’m sorry for surprising you, Kai.” He ran a hand through his black hair, a gesture of stress. Why are you precious to me? Why you?