Have the Dignity
“Villain, we can’t- no, don’t touch me.” Hero pulled her hand away and practically hugged herself as tears sprung to her eyes. “We can’t do this anymore. This- this secrecy. And I know you’re too proud-”
“To proud to what, Hero?” Villain nearly shouted. Did Hero really think he wouldn’t give up his own life to be with her? “I’ll tell them. We will tell them- the public- together.”
Hero shook her head, salty tears running down her round and rosy cheeks.
Oh. “This isn’t about me being to proud, is it?” A sharp exhale, like a bull. “It’s you that’s too proud. You don’t want the public to know you stooped to the likes of...of me. Is that it? That it, Hero?” He took a step forward, only for her to step back. Villain didn’t mean to make her nervous. Yes, he was angry- no, hurt- and he’d admit that, but...he’d never hurt her. He never had before, so why did she think- because Hero had seen Villain in action before, with the men he interrogated for his own causes.
His anger thawed. “Let me love you,” he said, and his voice almost cracked. “Let me love you and...and you love me back. Please, Hero. Please have the...the dignity to love me back.” I know I’m bad still, Villain wanted to say, but I don’t know who I would be without you. He was frightened of how awful he could become after losing such a bright light in his life.
“Villain...” Her voice was light, quiet, and Villain reckoned he should have been thankful she wasn’t screaming at him. They both knew they were terrible for each other- or at least Villain was bad for her- but it was better to let the truth out gently.
“Do you love me?” he asked. “Even just a shred?” Maybe he shouldn’t have asked.
“I-” Hero swallowed, hugged herself tighter. “I’m sorry, Villain. It’s not...it’s not that I don’t love you. I just...” She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut, allowing a tear to squeeze out. “I love you, Villain. I do.” Her eyes opened.
He nodded. “You’re just not willing to let your love ruin your reputation.” A bitter thought crossed Villain’s mind, one that called Hero a rotten princess. She wouldn’t run away with the peasant boy she fell in love with all because of the pretty crown on a plush cushion- one that would someday make her a queen.
Villain didn’t know what made him say it, but he told Hero he was sorry, too. To her, it likely sounded like a threat. Villain didn’t doubt this was what she thought as she practically darted for the front door. It saddened him, made him feel like a beast to have her react like that.
Maybe it was himself who he felt sorry for- not her, or the people he may destroy in his melancholic state. It was he who was suffering, and he deserved to feel sorry for himself after falling so deeply in love, only to be broken, right?
He was sorry for himself.
He was sorry for himself.
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