royalreiqn / nikolai royce
the regret that consumed the memory of that day had been easier to ignore ( never forget, not when his heart still wept regardless of time ) when distance had seperated them, when the only reminder of her presence had been the books he’d kept hidden from himself, the flowers from the arbor still pressed between their pages. it crashed over him now. it tore into him, and while nikolai wanted to avert his gaze, especially as he noticed the water welling in blue eyes he’d once fought to keep both dry and shining with joy, he made himself look upon the sorrow he’d inflicted on the one person who’d given him nothing but love. the person he’d held in his arms until she fell asleep. the person he’d seen his future in, a future free of his father’s tyranny, where the happiness he felt in her presence would consume all his days. those days would be theirs. he would have spent his days studying, maybe he wold’ve become a healer, or even helping her rule the arbor, and in the evening they would’ve had supper with their children, at least two, redheads like her. now she stepped away from him as if he wielded a sword; however, it’s he who bled alongside her. the first tear slipped past his defenses, trickling down his cheek.
❝ i know. ❞ shame drowned the two words. denial impossible when he bore the scars he’d inflicted upon himself by speaking as he had. scars that were now torn open as he voice cracked. why couldn’t she yell at him? rage was a punishment he was accustomed to and one he knew how to endure, but this … losing his other eye would be less painful than standing here. unable to reach out and cradle her face as he longed to or pull her into his arms, even fall to his knees and beg. he’d buried many emotions in his life, alongside many words, but they climbed up his throat now as she fell silent. they demanded their voice after three years of silence. ❝ i didn’t, ❞ his voice cracked and more tears fell. fear seized him by the throat; the ghost of his father did, whispering in nik’s ear that he was wasting his breath, ❝ i never … i never woke up and wanted that. renna, ❞ he risked the smallest step forward as he said her name, ❝ all i ever wanted was to hold your heart. i wanted to marry you every day even … that day. but i’m a coward. ❞
i know. cerenna’s eyebrows furrow, her head shaking as she ponders what exactly she could say to those two words. were it years ago, when the only hurt she had would be made better by nikolai, cerenna wouldn’t even have to say anything. she would rest her head upon his shoulder and he would know all that was in her head, in her heart. now, whatever string the fates had wrapped them both in, was torn apart. “do you?” as her voice breaks, so does the barrier that kept the couple of tears from fallin. cerenna doesn’t know if it’s the presence of nikolai that brings her silent undoing so easily or if it’s the conversation at hand, a hurt and tension build from one that should have happened years ago. nikolai doesn’t know half of it ( not how she’d felt, what they’d both lost without knowing they had it in the first place, what she’s kept inside ever since her chest’s been seemingly hollowed out by someone that made it feel so full ), and even if he does dare to imagine it, it does not matter, not when cerenna feels as if she’s standing in a crumbling bridge, only a few moments away from breaking beneath her feet. and for a moment, she wants it.
cerenna presses her lips together, head shaking ever so slightly as she looks at any and everything but the man before her. there is much she wants to say but keeps locked away and then there is much she wants to say that passes through her lips before she can even attempt to hold onto it. “you did hold my heart, nikolai. you held it for years before you broke it, before you broke me. and now here i stand, wondering if i should forgive you, forget you or break you too.” because there is both desperation to feel something other than pain, a need to let go of the hurt and a want to make him hurt as much as he had made her. though, none of those feelings and desires compare to the void that makes it all feel too overwhelming, too much to bear. especially as his next sentence comes and crashes onto her like the waves on the rocks in the arbor. “three years ago, you came to me and told me you no longer wanted to be with me.” a scoff, failing to wrap her head around what he’s telling her. “now you tell me you wanted to marry me even then and call yourself a coward. what the fuck are you talking about?” she pleads, begs for something to make sense in all that he says.