Posted in Headcanon

Until we meet again, then, love

Nobody likes goodbye, understandably, but she had made peace with how it would always happens. People never last, no matter how hard she tried to fight for them. She and her lifestyle as a monster hunter would eventually drained them out, to the point where they bid each other farewell thinking “good riddance”. She knows it’s inevitable, and she carefully started every partnerships and erstwhile flings with said knowledge in mind. 

It is alarming, then, how her gut clenches at the thought of it happening to the two of them. 

Because, despite knowing full well they’re starting an affair which is doomed for the start, they lasted. Against all odds, in the face of what would ruined relationships sturdier and more everlasting than theirs, after a heart wrenching parting followed by months of being apart and decreased exchange of words, through the pain of betrayal and foolish mistakes from both sides, they lasted. Still do. Circumstance sucks, but she could unabashedly claims that not even “so-called fate” could build a wall between Elsa Bloodstone and John Constantine to keep them apart. 

Until now. 

For once, this rift between them, is of their own making. Not a badly dealt cards from Moirai, no outsiders cunningly picking them apart for their own greed, no old foes taking their revenge in a besiege. No, this is not an intervention from the world, this is the two of them, being their dysfunctional self and letting their unhealthy thoughts run amok. This is their own demons, sinking their poisonous claws around the lovers’ hearts and planted seeds of doubt. This is their own vultures, mangling the pair’s hearts with their villainous beaks and leaving them exposed. Vulnerable. 

And she knew, full well, how she played a part in this. She was the one who made him came back when he had left, and she made him stay though she knew he wanted to leave for much needed solitude. She was also the one who wasn’t able to control her own emotions and affected him in turns, making him just as unstable as she was. 

So for once, Elsa Bloodstone experiences what worried sick feels like. She get acquainted with growing shame and regret in her chest, the worst case scenarios of “what ifs” running wild in her mind, and she fear for her life that he might actually leave. 

But above all else, she knows now, how it feels like to cling on to hope. To have a complete faith in someone because she knows that he knows just how much he meant to her and how far she’s willing to fight for him. That the distance between them is not something permanent and they’ll build a bridge to reconnect their emotions and thoughts, through the candor that got them fell for each other in the first place. The honesty that made this little reprieve of them the best they’ve ever tasted in their – arguably – short but eventful lives. 

To believe that they’ll be able to talk this one out the way they always do. 

That he just needs some time alone to get his head straight, as she too get on with her life and put her affairs in order. 

 

Believing that, given time, he’ll prove this isn’t a goodbye but merely a see you later.

 

 

At least, she vehemently hopes so.

 

 

 

 

À la mort,

Prompt: this Thought Catalog post.

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Author:

An emotionally invested enthusiast of pop culture. Apathetic by design. Aesthetically offensive and eloquently candid. A sentimental heathen.

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