It was inevitable.

Two different sides of a coin.

You and me.

We knew each other so well.

It was weird, I could smell your scent. That sort of woodsy-flowery scent that made you instantly recognizable to me. Yet, it was being consumed by the smell of blood. The clashing of swords, men and women alike screaming and frantically yelling for their kids, and the pouring rain made it so hard to find you.

There you were. Lying hidden next to barrels of wine and flour. Your sweet handsome face clenched in pain. Your soft yet rough hands trying to stop the blood from gushing underneath you. I stopped, right where I was. In the stinging rain where my heart stopped, afraid yours did too.

All of a sudden I was right next to you. I thought it was the rain but it seems I had started to cry. With one hand over your wound, I used the other to rip the bottom of my skirt to over it up. I was shaking, my mind was running miles, and my heart was heard in my ears. I tried to remain focused on the wound, but your grunts of pain took it away.

“Leave.” He coughed out blood. “Let me go. It’s too late now…” I took a deep breath trying to be faster. My hands going faster as my mind had stopped everything else. I glanced up and saw his glossy eyes. The same eyes that used to be full of love and adventure. I was the coward. I told him I couldn’t leave, not with my family still being here, that they could die. Now here he was, in my arms letting me take care of what my father had done to him.

I closed my eyes and leaned forward with him. The sharp pierce pain cam soon after. The sword, going right through my heart was fast and skilled. I felt a nauseous taste in my mouth combined with blood. We were together, at last. But at what cost.