{"id":3473,"date":"2018-01-15T00:00:51","date_gmt":"2018-01-15T05:00:51","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/awakenings.embklitzke.com\/?p=3473"},"modified":"2018-01-14T19:18:30","modified_gmt":"2018-01-15T00:18:30","slug":"thirty-06-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/awakenings.embklitzke.com\/?p=3473","title":{"rendered":"Thirty – 06"},"content":{"rendered":"

[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]<\/em><\/p>\n

It took him back centuries, that moment, sitting together on the old concrete bench with his arms around her. He could remember a time long ago, the two of them sitting together like this, though it hadn\u2019t been concrete beneath them, but stone, and the air had carried the bite that promised the coming autumn. There had been a battlefield behind them, perhaps a mile or two distant, but they\u2019d moved far enough away to drown out the sound of the dying and worse with the sound of a river and the wind in the trees. She\u2019d worn red that day, a rich, dark red wool gown and a cloak to match, silver trinkets C\u00edar had made her woven into her hair. She\u2019d been so beautiful that it had taken his breath away and at least momentarily had erased the pain in his soul.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m so sorry, <\/em>mo chro\u00ed,\u201d she whispered, using his tongue rather than hers\u2014something she\u2019d begun to do only in the past few weeks. It eased his heart more in moments like this, when the ache inside was the worst, when the burn of the blood on his hands was the greatest. \u201cI didn\u2019t want them to make you do this.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 C\u00edar shook his head wordlessly, his arms wrapped slightly around her, hands clenched into fists. Intellectually, he knew they were clean, but he could still feel the blood on them even though he\u2019d scrubbed them raw. He didn\u2019t want to get any of it on her even though it was long gone. His arms tightened slightly and he rested his cheek against her hair. It was hard to breathe.<\/em><\/p>\n

It was very hard to breathe.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI hate them,\u201d she whispered. \u201cPowers above and below, I <\/em>hate them, C\u00edar. I hate them for what they do to you, for what they make me do to you.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cSave your hate,\u201d he said, his voice a rasp, speaking around a lump in his throat. \u201cThey\u2019re not worth your notice. Keep your strength for when you need it.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWhen we need it,\u201d she said.<\/em><\/p>\n

He hadn\u2019t realized what it meant then. It was only starting to become clear now, centuries later.<\/p>\n

\u201cI love you,\u201d Matt whispered, echoing her words. \u201cAnd I always will.\u201d I always have, even when I didn\u2019t know it.<\/em> She was the missing piece\u2014just as he was for her.<\/p>\n

Now, they were together again and nothing was going to tear them apart.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[This post is from Matt’s point of view.] It took him back centuries, that moment, sitting together on the old concrete bench with his arms around her. He could remember a time long ago, the two of them sitting together … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[240,280,14],"tags":[150,202,171,170,194,181,149,148,168,147,165,146],"class_list":["post-3473","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-book-6","category-chapter-30-book-6","category-story","tag-awakenings","tag-ciar-mac-dubhshlain","tag-fantasy","tag-fiction","tag-hecate","tag-matthew-astoris","tag-original-fiction","tag-post-apocalyptic","tag-serial","tag-serial-fiction","tag-story","tag-web-fiction"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p1EBlN-U1","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/awakenings.embklitzke.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3473","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/awakenings.embklitzke.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/awakenings.embklitzke.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/awakenings.embklitzke.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/awakenings.embklitzke.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3473"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/awakenings.embklitzke.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3473\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3474,"href":"http:\/\/awakenings.embklitzke.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3473\/revisions\/3474"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/awakenings.embklitzke.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3473"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/awakenings.embklitzke.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3473"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/awakenings.embklitzke.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3473"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}