he never meant for it to end like this, losing he means.
everything was riding on him, everyone was counting on, he was s o close to winning, so close to running into your arms and hugging you tight, kissing your soft lips a final time as he thanked whoever’s out there to be alive.
he’s sorry that he couldn’t live.
he’s sorry for what he said before the fight.
he’s sorry for what he didn’t say before the fight
he’s sorry for what the gods have done to the humans, he truly wanted to help them, he desperately did cause he loves them. he feels them.
why, why did he have to go against someone so hateful, why couldn’t he have won?
hiss mama always told him ‘ even if you’re heart is big, not everyone’s ‘as one as big as yours. ‘
he felt his hands starts to wither under the weight of the building, his body crushed as a smile played at his lips.
he hopes you’re doing alright right now. hope you’re not too broken up about him.
he’s sorry for causing you pain
he’s sorry for disappointing his best friend
sorry for not living up to everyone’s expectations.
his legs started to tingle as he felt his soul get heavy, the shooting pain his tattoo’s causing compares to nothing in his stomach, his heart, his sunning soul.
there was a sprinkle of light, he noticed, only a pea size gap in the boulders that had shown through the darkness of the rebel.
just one more time. just one more time he had to see you, his reason. his muse. his love.
and almost like a cruel, taunting joke. he saw only your chest.
he couldn’t feel his legs nor arms anymore. so he couldn’t see you. not even a final time.
but he can tell but the way you were tensed, you were watching, waiting for something to happen. the jeers of the audience fall on deafs ears as he focuses on you one last time.
ah, there you are. his precious y/n
with all his effort he smiled as he finally saw your face, not the way he wanted as you stared right at him, frozen in your spot as you caught the glint of turquoise shining through a gap, a gap so small a mouse would have trouble squeezing through.
the butterflies in his chest extinguish as he grows tired, oh how he wished to curl up to you just one more time.
even the gods would be nice enough to grant him this one last request surely.
but there is no god anymore, no demigod as his final regret flutters out of the hole and out of the arena, like confetti it glided and danced above the heads of the others, all too busy with their egos.
though a good luck kiss from his best friend, he wishes he had the chance to tell.
tell you you were his love. his muse. his reason.
his sorry for hiding the truth. but he hopes you can forgive him.
