That yes was like dropping a ton on his shoulders, snapping him momentarily out of his composure. His body jolted in surprise at the simple question, making him bite the inside of his cheek in thought.
'Yes?' why did she have to ask? Why didn’t they just stand there in silence until he could take the time to come up with what he’d ask? He sure as hell would have loved to have a bit more time.
But just how much time would that have been?
He avoided looking towards her, eyes focusing instead on the eerie crimson snow dancing in the air around them. Hands shoved in his pocket, Zelos had to clench his fists to steel his will into bringing the question up at all.
It started as a mumble, barely audible.
The redhead stopped talking, let out a long aggravated sigh, and lifted his head up towards the black sky, closing his eyes. His voice came out flat, yet the hidden anger and pain behind it seemed to want to leak through “Why…why didn’t you want me?” the question emerged at last. Zelos could finally feel himself able to speak as he straightened his head again, instead turning to look towards his mother.
"Why shouldn’t I have been born?" his eyes wore a calm mask, while underneath, within his thoughts he squirmed with fear, no, panic. He felt panic making his blood run cold in his veins, making him become rooted to the spot he stood, in the very pose he was currently in. He wanted her to say something, anything! Words he could come to understand his own mother by, words that would give him some sort of relief.
Although he pleased with his heart, the outside did not reflect the turmoil he currently felt. The former Chosen stood composed, and silent, seemingly ignoring the red snow falling around him and instead focusing on Mylene. Maybe she’d say something and it would free him from the torment of just why she would say that.
Why she traumatized her own child into becoming what he was.
Why they cursed him with the role of the Chosen.
That one question seemed to branch out into more and more of them, but that would have to be kept to himself. All he wanted to know was that one reason, he would just leave the rest to fade away on its own. He turned his body halfway, towards his mother, stance shifting to a stronger posture than earlier.
She was here for a reason, right? The town seemed to drag others in for one reason or another, drag them into his delusion. Showing them what his mind seemed to think of the world around him, the monsters in it, the monster he believed himself as. A hand reaching out to him while he lay dying in a crimson puddle, in an abyss of madness, a guiding voice. They all had their purpose, in one way or another, good or bad.
"Why?" he repeated, his nails dug into the palms of his hands as he stood awaiting an answer.
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