it never was. i had given you an out, a way to escape this desolate wasteland that i seem so adamant on staying in.

the toxins made a place in my veins long ago, i was accustomed to the environment. you weren't.

all those hours holed up in your library, diana. breathing in the dust and ink, the moon being your friend.

i gave you an exit to this earth - ironically by burying you in it. yet here you are, you stayed behind. you won't tell me why.

little liar.

people are never grateful - always biting the spoon that feeds them.

all those nights where you'd ramble about how miserable life made you. i took away your source of sadness yet you're dragged down by it even more.

perhaps my telling of this is more twisted, unreliable. maybe i read you all wrong.

i don't think so, i'm rarely at fault.

you just like playing games. keeping me guessing. you loved making me second guess.

part of myself even wondered if you were actually a ghost. what if you're just a vivid figment of my imagination?

that would be ridiculous though. why ail myself with your presence longer than necessary?

it's cute honestly, you whispered. making me look up from the book i was reading.

i raise a brow at you as you lay down next to me, on your side with your head perched up on one hand.

watching you struggle so much, it's cute. i didn't know i interested you that much. your lips held a teasing lilt.

you don't, i said sharply.

my tone didn't deter you and you leaned closer - so cold that i had to suppress a shiver.

considering how often you say my name inside that pretty head of yours, i think otherwise.

merlin you're truly infuriating.

you grinned and then looked to the book i was holding - it was one of your favorites. though i don't think that's the right title, you said every book was your favorite.

i snapped it shut, throwing it half heartedly on the nightstand beside me. i watch as you bite your tongue at my treatment of the book and withhold a smirk.

of all things at least that can still bother you.

you stare back at me - maybe it's because you're partially see through but i can't tell if you've gotten closer or not.

part of my brain wished i could still smell the ginger and lemongrass that used to linger in your hair and on your tongue.

it was how i had always known you were near. it was a subtle fragrance, but familiar to me nonetheless so i had always been able to spot it.

your hand reaches out, i know i should lean back but i don't. cold fingers brush the hair away from my forehead, like ice and this time i can't help but tremble.

you make to pull away at my reaction. don't. i think it, not say it. clearly loud enough to hear. so you stay.

i need to find out how to fix that. my occlumency is of the highest grade yet you slipped right through it.

damn you, diana.

can you at least try to value my privacy? my voice is a low hum, watching how the waves of it blur the outlines of your form.

you never valued mine.

touché.

your hands continued to mess with the curls on my head, the imitation of warmth present but it's not - leaving me with goose bumped skin.

despite my efforts memories trail back to me like hungry wolves.

of when you've laid in my bed - in the exact spot you are now - but you were warm and alive and open and unfurling - no.

i can't allow myself to dwell.

you tug on the hair at the nape of my neck sharply, not enough to hurt but it made my throat bend. you traced a nail down my neck, humming.

i was wondering when that might pop up, you mused.

my lip pulled into a snarl but you dug your nails more sharply into my scalp, you were enjoying this far too much.

trying to grab at your wrist, my hand fell right through - landing pathetically on the sheets below us.

none of that thomas, it's my turn.

i glared at you - hating how i liked the feeling of your hand rubbing circles into my scalp. you knew it to.

you savored it.

you always did.

in the few times i'd let you take control - though is it true control if it's granted by someone else? i think not. considering all those times, i was easily able to flip the roles again. i'd let you have your fun before taking hold of the reigns again.

why couldn't you have just stayed in the ground?

i have a question for you.

i swallowed dryly as you continued to trace patterns into the skin of my throat, like skates cutting into ice. the sensation just on the verge of being uncomfortable but not quite.

seeing as you won't take no for answer, i gestured for you to continue and you sit up, the bed dipping. odd, it looked like you could control your density at a whim.

why did you kill me?