It had been at least a minute since he last blinked. I don’t know how I knew this, but I did. Even without looking, even in the dark. That’s how you realize you know someone way too well. I could almost see that blank expression he would get every time he had something on his mind that was particularly upsetting. We were in a dungeon cell after all, there were only two ways our situation could get more upsetting than this and I was obviously not hoping for either. I remained silent for as long as I could, until I lost track of time and the last tidbits of patience I had in me. “So?” I questioned.
“What?” he muttered, half under his breath.
“How do we escape this?”
“We don’t,” he answered. “The only way out of this room is through the door and, trust me, we don’t want to go that way.”
“Alright. So we sit here and wait to die. Sounds like a plan to me.” I said. I couldn’t help a smile despite the bitterness of my words. It was almost fun to see him sounding so lost, he was so used to having all the answers.
“You’re being optimistic love, if you think they’ll just kill us.”
“Oh well, there’s no reason why we should both be sulking about this. We had a pretty good run after all.”
A reluctant laugh escaped him, tickling the back of my neck. The sudden warmth sending chills down my spine. He wrapped his arms around me probably assuming I was cold. “We did. I guess it just didn’t last as long as I hoped.”
“It actually lasted longer than I expected.” I mused. It felt like we’d known each other for a lifetime, but he was right; it hadn’t really been that long. An amount of time that would be deemed insignificant to anyone but the two of us.
“On the bright side though, you probably won’t have much time to miss me.” He whispered, kissing the top of my head.
“Look who’s being optimistic now.” I teased, letting out a bitter laugh that didn’t sound at all like me. “That door will open soon. They’ll come and drag you out and that’s the last I’ll see of you. I’ll pray to all the Gods we always claimed to not believe in that they kill you right away, but I won’t know what happens to you. It’ll be weeks before that door opens again.” I breathed a heavy sigh. “If I’m very lucky they’ll take me first. I suppose that depends on who he wants to torture most though…” I snorted softly. “So probably not.”
“I’m sorry, love. If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t even be here.”
“There’s not enough time left for us to waste on casting blame. Only I know where I would be if not for you. Don’t assume this is the worst possible ending to my story. I’ll be the judge of that.” I closed my eyes and forced a long deep breath. In my mind I was telling myself that one way or another everything would be okay. Death is only one single moment after all. The end of a lifetime, or the start of another; if you believe that kind of thing. I never did and neither did he.
All had already been said between us. There were no last minute professions of love, no pointless sentimental goodbyes. Could we have fought? Yes. Would it have mattered? No. There’s a difference between fighting against death’s clutches and denying that it had already claimed you. We had done the first more than enough to recognize the latter. No. This wasn’t a moment to waste fighting. This was the moment to finally rest. The last of our moments were wasted away in a comforting silence, waiting for the crack on the cell door announcing the beginning of the end. All things considered, we couldn’t really say it wasn’t a fitting end.
Written in response to Ten Quote Tuesday #20 prompt:
- Start a scene with this line: It had been at least a minute since he last blinked.