AgathaRio Drabble based on the prompt "Do you hate me?"
“Do you hate me?”
The words were quiet, murmured in the silence of the night, when Agatha should have been sleeping. She opened one eye, squinting at the woman that sat beside her. Rio absently poked at the fire, the end of her stick red with layers of ember. She had been doing this for some time, watching over the coven as they slept.
“I want to.” Agatha’s voice was quieter than the crackling of the fire, but Rio’s body froze, her head pivoting and gaze dropping to the ground where Agatha lay. She had truly hoped that Rio would have kept facing the fire for this conversation. Death just looked at her now, her eyes so full of emotions that Agatha didn’t have the bandwidth to parse. “I think I used to. Time and distance…” A shrug against her makeshift sleeping mat, and Agatha looked away from that pleading gaze.
She should have pretended to be asleep.
~ ꕥ ~
“Do you hate me?” Agatha’s lips were pressed tight, not even fully sure how she had squeezed the question through them. The sun should have crested over the horizon about ten minutes prior, but time didn’t move, so instead they were looking together at the eternal dusk. “You asked me, so I thought it was only fair that I asked you.”
“I do. A little bit. Sometimes.” Death delivered, deadpan and with a beat between each sentence. Rio looked away from her, looking into the middle distance as she continued to say more than she ever had. “I existed for a countless amount of time without you by my side. The ache of not having you was sudden and harsh.” She laughed, shaking her head, turning towards Agatha and the road. “I got him, but I lost you. I didn’t think that you were something I was capable of losing.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“I don’t think you are, really. But that’s okay. I don’t hate you. Now, at least.” Rio’s smile was sad, laden with words that could have been spoken. She held her cards close to her chest, and Agatha could respect that.
“But you did?”
“When you kept me from him.” Rio spoke and Agatha wanted to rip herself out of her own skin. Something between embarrassment and fury burned under her skin, but she was letting Rio speak. “I had to steal time with my own son. To even get to know him. If you had seen me during the daylight, if you had seen me near him, you would have thought I was there to take him. You would have tried to kill me. I couldn’t do that, to either of you.”
~ ꕥ ~
“Do you hate me?” Rio stood at the gate, peaking through the doorway with a small smile. It was a beautiful way for her love to end, it only made sense to her for this to be the next step in their relationship. A cluster of lilac and lavender clutched in her hands, and she approached.
“A little.” There was a bitter note to Agatha’s voice, her death too close to the tongue. There was much that they could discuss, but over her own grave seemed a bit much. “Sorry I called you evil.” She said, gingerly taking the flowers from Rio’s grasp. Their touch lingered a moment too long, the transfer coming with a meeting of the eyes that Agatha wanted to pull out of.
Everything felt too raw.
“I know you didn’t mean it.” Rio’s voice was singsong, light and fluffy around the edges. The voice of a woman who was finally, after centuries, getting what she asked for.
“I don’t think you did.” Agatha laughed.
“Let’s go see our son.” Rio took a step back, letting the greens of the portal start to lap over her. A hand extended to her love, the smile that she offered was genuine. “He’s waiting for you.”
Agatha took the extended hand.
