𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          
𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄
— 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 —
                          
     𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 time, there lived a boy; one who could project himself anywhere he pleased within seconds, and whom held no remorse for the mistakes he had made in the past. He held only vivacious inconsideration in his heart, and allowed no one to come near it— and if they did, he was sure with every judgmental bone in his body that the very person would cower in fear. He was careless. He worried not of what the future held for others, but for what it held for himself. 
                          
But that was before he fell in love with the girl who could bend water.
                          
She was a hurricane; one that destroyed all of his previous morals and made him feel again. She sought him out from the depths in which he had buried himself, and showed him the light that reflected upon the surface of the earth. She showed him things that he had never seen before: the way the rays of the setting sun ever so slightly brushed upon the effervescent tendrils of grass outside, the sounds of feverish rushing water as it crashed against the shore of a small riverbank, and the way the passions of her heart reflected within her eyes. In the earthy hues of her eyes were her soul, with the kind of beauty that expanded a moment into a personal eternity, a heaven he wished so desperately to be a part of. They reminded him of rich, golden timber with so much strength remaining, despite the years of weathering she had endured. The deep brown of the winter trees at twilight, a delicate cinnamon, the color of soft brown sugar. 
                          
And he fell in love with her.
                          
So sitting here, with her unwavering hand placed within his, Five decided that he couldn't let her go.
                          
The boy blinks past his tears, his gaze finding his siblings in an instant. "We're not leaving her here, we can't. One of us need to get through to Vanya— it's our only shot to get out of here."
                          
Klaus stays crouched on the opposite side of Mariana's still body, his hand firmly holding hers as he stares of into a distance of nothingness. He doesn't comply to Five's request, sounding vulnerable and completely lost when he finally spoke. "There's no point in saving a world that doesn't deserve it," he murmurs.
                          
"No, no," Diego stands from his spot, running his fingers through his hair as he closes his eyes. "She wouldn't want you to just sit here Klaus— you know that."
                          
The man stays firm, blinking down at the girl on the floor. Her soft skin had gone pale, her the natural flush drained from her cheeks. She looked at peace— almost like a doll, Klaus thought. But no doll could ever compare to the girl beneath his fingertips, the one who had saved him in a way that no one else ever could.
                          
"I'll do it for her," Klaus decides, giving in as he presses his lips to her forehead. His lip trembles as he draws back, removing his jacket to place it over her blood-stained torso. If he looked at her from afar, it seemed as though she were sleeping— yes, he smiled, she was only sleeping.