Queen

I relaxed into my father's arms as he hugged me. The moment he saw me, I could see in his eyes that he knew exactly what was happening in my head. I don't know why I expected any less. He must've known from experiencing it with Lilith. Yet he cried and pulled me into his arms. He kissed the top of my head and whispered countless I'm glad you're okays and I love yous. So much so that the guilt lingering in me from Lilith's death was beginning to slip away.

"Dad." I looked up at him. "Do I seem different to you?"

His eyes were watery as he smiled down at me and held my face. "Yes, you're different, my love. But you're not in any pain?" I shook my head slowly. "Your mother was always in pain in the beginning. She fought hard to keep the dark spirits at bay."

I let out a small laugh. "Is that what I was supposed to do? Fight it?" I looked up at him in question. Should I have fought harder? How long would I have been able to keep that up? I would've driven myself to the brink of insanity before the dark magic had time to do any damage to me.

He tucked my hair behind my ears and shook his head. "No. You do what's good for you, sweetheart. Lilith did what she thought was best and for the person she turned out to be...I guess it was best. But you," his smile grew, "you are not her. You will create the path best for you, and the people who love you will accept it— no matter what."

Good or bad, is what he wanted to add to the end of it, but he didn't. For my sake, I guess.

"You should know," I said. "Before someone else besides me tells you... Mom—"

"I figured," he said.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said. "I'm sure there was a reason and besides, my Lilith died that night you were taken from us. She died right there with me, and I've mourned her loss a long time ago. Don't be sorry for me, Queen."

I nodded. I hoped he wasn't saying that just to make me feel better.

He gave me one more hug and when he pulled away, he said, "I assume you want to rest up a bit, hm?"

"A little."

"I won't keep you then," he said. "I will come see you later, okay?"

I gave him a nod and he squeezed my hands one more time before walking past me. A thought passed my head in that moment and I turned to him. "Dad," I called out. When he turned back around, I stepped forward and circled my arms around him. "Thank you."

He seemed surprised as he patted my back. "What for?"

I took a step back. "For staying with Syn...and believing him. I appreciate it."

He laughed softly. "I can't say with one hundred percent honesty that I stayed for his sake, sweetheart. I was heartbroken when I found out what happened. Believing him...it suspended that heartbreak. One day at a time."

"Still," I said.

At least he was there. That much couldn't be said for a few other people, but I promised myself I'd let it go.

"Hm. Then you're welcome," he said. "Go rest. Eat. Stop overthinking— the best path to follow is the one that requires the least amount of thought." He walked backwards until he was far enough to give me a wave and then he rounded the corner.

I smiled at the tidbit of advice. It seemed like a lesson for idiots. Not for people like me who felt like they now had the weight of the world on their shoulders...But maybe I needed to consider it.

It was duly noted.

I looked down at the mess I was before sighing and walking into Syn's room. Everything was the same, not that he decorated much anyway or even been here. I walked to the restroom and undressed, taking notice of the fact that he wasn't here yet. I contemplated locking the door, but why would I? I pondered the question until I caught my reflection in the mirror.

That's why.

Despite sleeping for the better portion of two weeks, I looked tired. The bags under my eyes were pronounced and my eyes were bloodshot. The black lines on my skin appeared and disappeared and all the scars I had yet to see before were back.

Faint light marks covered my wrists, my forearms, my back, and spots here and there. They weren't noticeable enough that they could be pointed out, but Syn would see them.

At first glance.

I knew he would.

He'd wonder where they were from and I'd have to answer, which would lead to a discussion about what exactly I'd done, and I wasn't exactly in the mood to explain. Not that there was much to say. This was just...me. The girl he had fallen in love with wasn't real.

I was cloaked in a glamour put on me by Heaven.

The dark energy had eviscerated every last drop of it, and now it was all back. Including the memories. The ones of my childhood were still spotty, but I remembered everything she told me happened after I got to Heaven.

They kept me locked up in a dungeon, chained by my wrists and ankles to a hospital bed. I remembered the IV pump they attached to me. Just draining me of every last drop besides the little I needed to survive. And then I'd get to eat and drink...only enough to replenish me, and then the cycle would repeat.

I'd watched Lilith die. And before, my adoptive mother's death was one that brought tears to my eyes even though I could hardly remember it. Now, I wished I could. If only so I could remember how she looked when the life drained from her eyes.

I hated them.

The love— all the good memories were nothing but lies. They stole me and used me as whatever they needed me for; a fountain of youth, a plaything for Xyla...I didn't fucking know. All I knew was that they didn't give a shit about me unless it benefitted them.

I remembered the cutting in high school.

My memory would come back to me here and there and the depression would come back in waves before they found out and wiped my memory again.

I gripped the counter, resisting the urge to fall to the floor. I truly did not want to be alive anymore back then and as the memories returned, I had to remind myself that they were a lifetime ago. Those feelings were a long time ago. I couldn't let myself fall into that hole again.

Not now when there were people in my life who genuinely loved and needed me here and present.

I looked at the mirror, blinking away the tears that wanted to fall. I wasn't sad anymore. The memories hurt, but that was all they were. It was the little girl inside me that lived through all of it that wanted to cry. She wanted to scream, find a way to just forget all that pain for a second. Even if that meant hurting herself. "You're okay," I said, moving my hair over my shoulders. "We are good. And we are happy."

I gave myself one more nod before swallowing a breath and pushing everything away. I got into the shower and turned the dial. When the cool water hit me, I left it there instead of making it warmer.

Memories flooded in as the seconds passed. They were barreling in without any concern for my current mental state.

The cold. I remembered the cool water I'd be hosed down with in the dungeon when I disobeyed. The water pressure was enough to leave bruises on my skin, not that they cared much. But it was freezing cold. So cold that I could still feel it If I closed my eyes.

That was then and this was now.

I opened my eyes and took a deep breath.

I was fine. I had to be because if I wasn't, what was I? I couldn't be this powerful yet succumb to a meaningless memory.

You're weak!

That wasn't true. I knew that much but that intruding thought had me slumped against the cold marble wall. Take a few deep breaths, I told myself. But on my third one, I sank to the floor and hugged my knees. Memories I barely remembered held a chain to me, ones that were painted across my skin that only my body could recall. The ice-cold water spilled down on me as I sat there.

Just cold.

I began to realize why everything in my subconscious was so fucking cold and it had little to do with my succubus side.

This was where I found comfort; in that dungeon where I'd resigned myself to believing I deserved the cold and nothing else.

A sob wracked my body as that dark place in my mind began to take over, and it wasn't connected to Lilith's power in the slightest. This was me, and this was who I was. A lonely and sad girl with thoughts of just disappearing into...nothing. I used to figure if reincarnation existed, I was holding up the place for someone else who deserved this life so much more than I did.

Through my blurry vision, I could see the faint lines in my thighs created by my own hand and I cried harder. I buried my face in my hands and let myself stay in that dark hole for a bit. It got to the point where I wasn't even sure if I could dig myself out of it, and I could hardly breathe anymore.

I heard the door burst open and footsteps follow it. "I'm not looking! Fuck, he's going to kill me."

Paris.

I tried to stifle my sobs as I heard him shuffle around the restroom. And after a few moments, I felt the glass door open. The cool air hit me with a fierceness as he stepped in. He shut the water off. "That's way too cold, Queen."

I felt a large, fluffy towel wrap around the front of me to around my shoulders. He placed his hands on my arms, above the towel, and looked deep into my eyes. "How can you be crying when you've defied nature, woman? You shouldn't even be alive right now." At his choice of words, another sob fell through my lips and I felt him tense. "If you keep crying, I'll probably get fired. Or worse, Syn's logic may have me killed. So for my sake, please stop."

My teeth chattered a bit as I held my breath and lifted my head to him. And he smiled at me. "I'd ask you what's wrong, but I'm not the man you should be speaking to at a time like this," he said, dropping his arms. "Whatever it is, good or bad, it'll pass."

I wasn't strong enough to respond to him, but he sighed and lifted the towel back up to my shoulder when it fell. Then he said, "Do you want me to call Syn?"

No!

My eyes widened and I shook my head quickly. "No, please don't. I don't want him—"

"Paris," I heard Syn's voice at the door and I averted my eyes back to the floor.

"Sorry," he whispered to me. "I already called him." He patted my arm before standing back up and leaving the shower. I heard them talk at the door for a few moments— nothing I could make out much less cared to. I tried to think of an excuse to tell him— an explanation, but I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to fake myself out of this one. He'd be able to see right through it.

When Paris left, he closed the door and I let out a sigh, shutting my eyes. I wanted to be strong for both of us. The last thing I wanted was for him to find me like this. Especially after the week he's had. He had to be exhausted. I felt another wave of tears make their way to the surface and I held it back once again. I couldn't cry in front of him. Not right now.

I saw him move near the vanity, his figure becoming a shadow along the wet glass. I took a breath, managing to gather the strength to stand up and wrap the towel around myself. I took a step toward the shower door and within the same second, Syn's large frame filled the space where my exit was.

He looked down at me and I stared at his bare chest. His slacks hung low on his waist and he was barefoot. "Weren't you going to shower?"

I nodded and wiped my eyes. "But-"

"Why are you trying to leave then?" He took a step inside and I took one back. His hands moved to mine where I was holding the towel and he pushed them away before taking the towel and tossing it out. Cool air hit my naked body and I wrapped my arms around myself.

Maybe he thought sex would make me feel better. Sex, I could do right now. There was no space for questions or answers and if I broke out into tears, there would be an excuse.

He reached past me to close the door and then he turned on the water. When it was hot enough, he turned to me and held a hand out. I accepted, unsure of what exactly he wanted from me and he pulled me in front of him.

The warm water skated over my skin and face and I was able to get away with letting a few tears fall. He reached past me for the soap and squeezed a good amount into a rag before wetting it and moving it to my skin. He started at my arms, rubbing the soap into small circles with a gentleness completely unbecoming of him yet always provided to me. He moved on to my other arm and then other parts of my body, utterly silent as he cleaned my body and I held back more tears.

I didn't deserve him.

When I was covered in soap and he was content, he washed me off completely. I watched the soapy water flow into the drain as his hands slowed over my wrist and arm. The scars. I didn't have the energy to hide them like I wanted to.

I could feel the questions lingering in his fingertips, but he still hadn't said anything. He just carried on. Observed. And then carried on once again. With my arms, and then my thighs.

"Turn to me," he instructed, and I did, wearily— my eyes still anywhere besides his face. He took a step toward me and my hand instinctively moved between us and rested on his abdomen. Partly to stop him from coming any closer and partly because I needed to hold on to something. I didn't know which one he interpreted my touch as but, regardless, he didn't say anything about it.

He just reached past me again, his arm brushing my shoulder as he grasped my shampoo. I peered up at him through my lashes and his eyes met mine for a quick moment before I looked back down at his chest. I couldn't meet his eye yet. He had a way of reading me even when I didn't want to be seen.

I felt his fingers move to my head, massaging the shampoo into my scalp and I sniffled a bit. I snuck another look at him to see him completely focused on the task and my chest ached.

The silence was one thing. It allowed me the opportunity to think a little and let myself feel what I needed to, but I wanted him to talk to me. I needed him to tell me that everything was going to be fine. I needed him to tell me that he loved me. Because everything in my head was screaming that I was incapable of deserving it.

I let out a cry and his fingers stopped moving. He tangled them out of my hair, washing them in the running shower before wiping my eyes and lifting my face to him. I shook my head, not wanting to meet his eyes but he remained steady as hot tears streamed down my face.

When our eyes connected, I could see the worry in his and my defenses completely slipped away. I mustered up to the best of my ability, the courage to say what I wanted. And my mouth opened, "I..."

"You..." he urged, gently wiping my tears away with the pad of his thumb.

"I-I'm not feeling good," I admitted to him. "And I'm not feeling secure at all in anything right now." My eyes blurred again, my breath stuttering. "And I- I need you to tell me you love me. Please."

"You never have to say please, Princess." He kissed my cheek. "I love you— more than love you."

He placed a kiss on my other cheek and I cried again as warmth filled my chest. "I love you, Queen. To the death of me and beyond it. I love you."

Then he placed one on my forehead before pulling me into his embrace. I cried in his arms. He never asked me what was wrong, or interrupted me to assure me that he'd make everything better. He only held me and whispered how much he loved me. After a while, my mind began to finally let it sink in and the tears stopped falling.

Past the sound of the falling water, I heard his cell phone ring. Although he made no moves to leave and go answer it, I pulled away. I didn't want to derail him from whatever he had to do today. He was in the middle of something if Paris had to call him.

"You should answer that," I said. "I'll finish up in—"

"It can wait."

"What?" I smiled sadly and he cupped my cheeks. "It could be important."

He wiped my eyes and shook his head, a sigh escaping his lips. "Not as important as you. It can wait."

I opened my mouth to protest and he reached behind me for the smaller hosed shower head. "Syn, you don't have to—" A stream of water splashed me in the face before I could continue. He didn't...I squinted my eyes open to see an amused smile painted on his face. He did.

"You should know by now that I do what I want..." He leaned in. "And if what I want to do is stay with my fiancé who needs support right now...I will do that. Whoever is calling will understand that. If they don't, they are not a person I want to talk to anyway."

Water dripped down from my lashes as I kept a death glare on him and he gave me a nervous smile. He held the shower head up in an act of innocence and gave me a a quick peck on the lips. "Love you..."

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