Your Eyes – A Heart Ache To Me. - Slightly Mature bookverse

Hope you like it. Elphaba Drabble.

Your Eyes – A Heart Ache To Me.

Looking at him, his deep blue eyes, it was too much. The past, a world of memories lived in those eyes. She hadn’t seen it when he was an infant, a child, but now she saw it, she saw Him. Of all the people in Oz, in her life, why did this wretched Boy have to torment her with visions of Him? No-one would think anything about it, he looked nothing like the other children, but she could see it. His eyes telling a story, His story, it tormented her daily.
No one had known those eyes like her. He’d used those eyes to see through the things the rest of Oz hadn’t, to see the real her. It had been years before since the last time she’d seen those eyes, but still she remembered. She remembered everything about their short time together. His Smile, His ability to laugh at the smallest things, Oz how she’d loved him, Those Diamonds, that Heart. He’d been too good for the likes of her and she knew it, even then. And yet when He’d take her in his arms, She’d feel the world stop and there was nothing but Him. She’d never told him how she felt of course, maybe a slip up once or twice in the heat of passion, but Never to His face, to His Eyes.
She wished she could, but knew it was too late. Too late to help Him, too late to help what remained of Him. She’d failed Him, She’d killed Him and all that remained of Him. She’d been more than His Mistress an Love. She’d been His Executioner.
And for what, a missed chance at revenge?
If only she’d been earlier, if only she’d been there, If only...
But she hadn’t and He was dead. Nothing left but a pool of dried blood, even that was gone. She’d never see those eyes again.
Until now, and it hurt. This Boy-Child, so undeserving of those eyes, nothing like the Man she’d once and still loved. It troubled her to no end.
For if this Boy had His eyes, then how else could he have gotten them but from his Father? And in turn, His mother, Sarima could not have been her.
The Boy had travelled from a long way, but if Sarima was not his mother, who else could be held as a vessel for the Legacy of the Prince? She knew the answer, deep down, she knew. She’d never admit it, but she did know.
From his last encounter with her soul, for she knew the only way she could possess such a thing, had been through an Angel. He had been her Angel, Her Life. Without him, she was nothing. Nobody. Invisible.
With Him, she had been loved.
Her last encounter with Him, His hands over her slim frame, his mouth pressed to her in the deepest of kisses. Moving with her, Loving her, loving every bit of her, awakening everything inside of her. Those Eyes bearing into her, into her very being, filled with such care, such adoration. He urged her on in her pleasures, bringing her closer to her ecstasy with those eyes. He’d somehow stayed gentle, although his hands were ruff. Moving into her, bodies locked in a fierce embrace of passion, of love. Their passions fuelling them to go on, urging them that just for one moment, they could be nothing but themselves, no disguises, not lives out side of one another, their true beings. One and One equal both, The Hero of the story and The Witch…
She’d taken Him in deeper, allowed Him to have all of her. Releasing everything from her, he’d taken away her pain, only to implant a new kind of pain, unintentional, but ever present, she hadn’t known it then. Neither had realized that this would be their last time together, but both had known something. That’s why they’d taken more from each other, Taken the time to be together, to be for once normal, in love and together, one being.
Spent, they’d both lay in each others arms, Him plastering kisses on her face, her neck, her everything, Just her, Elphaba Thropp, not the Witch, he hadn’t seen her as that. She’d looked up into those eyes and felt her world.
She’d memorized each detail, every line on his face, each bulge of his muscle, the shape of his lips, the feel of them against her, each diamond on his flesh, the feel of him. But his Eyes still remained the clearest to her memory. His beautiful soulful, loving, deep crystal blue eyes…
He was gone soon. Nothing to do about it, but greave and lose everything, She was nothing once again. But now He was back, or part of him was, in the form of her Tormentor, this Boy with no history, No memory, No past.
Could He see her through those eyes? And if so would he be proud? Would he scold? Would He still love what she’d become without Him? Would he still love her unconditionally as he promised? She was sure of the answer, but couldn’t admit it once more…
“What?” Liir asked from across the table.
The Witch Merely looked down, remaining quiet.
Once upon a time He’d been there, she’d loved him, and He’d died, and left nothing but a living walking memory.
The Memory that now gazed upon her from across the table, in Contempt.
No-one else could see it. No one could know. No one would.
But to her, Elphaba Thropp the Wicked Witch, Fiyero Prince of the Arjikis was alive before her.
And she hated him for it.