I have loved so hard

that it broke my heart—

Despite the great scale of his internal struggle, he was still so incredibly attuned to her. So when a heavy sigh pushed passed her lips at his congratulatory remarks, he knew those masked eyes had seen through his words. Part of him was glad— for at least some part of this ruse that was becoming ‘them’ was stripped away. At least there was some honesty, some truth, being spoken rather than just voicing words that were ‘right.’

And then she assured him, lovely voice vowing that she wouldn’t “use him,” that he should “trust her” as they did when they first met. Thick ears tilt backwards, away from the sounds that were undoing so much while trying to repair even more. And her voice, it was losing its grasp in his mind— the Elephant’s weight slicing through the fog of her… seduction? attraction? similarity to the love of his past? Whatever hold she had had, it was slipping away. And he realized, in the brunt of her stern words, “You are not the same woman that I first met.” You are not the woman I met and fell in love with.

That was a woman of light and beauty and whispered truths on sea-foam shores. That woman was fiction, what his mind had wished to perceive. This Rexanna, who stood before him, was a woman of deception and hidden veracities. A lie about Caleb, concealing she was a spy, rejecting his home for a racist herd. His eyes closed at the overwhelming turn his realizations had taken— they were wounded, ugly thoughts polarized by the loneliness that both threatened and plagued.

But, unfortunately, thankfully the ugly parts of his soul had abandoned him in the weight of this burden that grew. So these hurtful words were not spoken, but poisoned his ears against her next onslaught of words. “Real love.” Dark eyes leapt to flame, smoldering— this was not ‘real love.’ Not to the Elephant. A real and honest love did not come fraught with lies, nor did ambition’s growing roots crack and splinter it apart. Again, he does not say these things. Again, his demon has deserted him.

You are not the man for me because I don’t deserve you… You deserve the world. I wish I could have been the one to give it to you.” Only now does the hardness that had befallen him crack. Only now do her words, that were battering against walls created by both of them, slip through and reweave ideas in his mind. His eyes swing to her. “You could have been my world,” a simple, quiet truth. “I would have taken you as you are. Not ‘tainted’ or ‘undeserving.’ But a woman with a past, who has lived a life that left scars. There is no shame in that, I—”

But his words are cut off as she speaking, saying their names, names of his own scars. It is too much— ears pin and gaze narrows before looking away. Searching for escape? solitude? He doesn’t know. “Rexanna, enough.” Pain makes his deep voice loud, hard, and booming over her words. His gaze, staring into the fading tree, does not see the sparking horn. His ears, pinned flush with his great skull, do no hear the crackling electricity.

BANG.

His body leaps, instinctively shifting in front of the gilded princess. To protect her, despite all that had transpired. He realizes, after his initial shock, that the source of the sound had erupted from her own horn. His wide-eyed gaze moves to meet her own, surprised stare. Thick hide twitches as the falling red and gold sparks sting where they land. “Are you alright?” the question is out of his mouth before he realizes, remember his own encounter with his magma-elephant peeling out of his skin. A pause, dark blue eyes studying hers, concern now lacing the hardness and pain, “Did you know you had magic?”