Leonidas stared at Willow, sitting cross-legged, just like her. Blood dripped down his eyes, staining his bloodied and torn clothes.
He sat facing Willow, yet his mind was not on her, more so on her words. She had called him a useless cripple, and for some reason, it stung more than he imagined.
Leonidas wasn't one to feel down because of mere words, especially so from a stranger he had just met. Willow had said them during their back and forth, probably without thinking about them at all.
Yet here I am, thinking about them all the same.
Leonidas dragged a hand over his face. Willow had been right; he was a cripple who had lost his arm. But she was also wrong. He wasn't useless, far from it, and he would prove her wrong, if only for the purpose of proving her wrong.
He was broken from his reverie when Willow opened her eyes. A pleasant smile graced her lips almost instantly. As if that wasn't weird enough, Willow was humming a tune, her colorful voice burrowing into the depths of his eardrums…which had healed somewhat.
"Catch."
Without so much as another word, Willow threw a pair of clothes at him. Leonidas held the black fabric, his expression twisting into annoyance.
"What the hell am I supposed to do with these?" He held up the clothes. "A blouse and skirt…really. I'd rather walk around naked than wear your clothes, Willow."
Willow smiled at his words, amused.
"Are you sure? Mind you, I'm not keen to see a naked man…though I wouldn't mind."
Leonidas made a bitter expression and inched away. "Disgusting pervert. Almost had you for a well-mannered young woman. How stupid I was. You can take these back for all I care."
He threw the skirt and blouse at her, and he could swear Willow's eyes lit up as if she had achieved something monumental.
Is she a masochist? Or just happy at getting her clothes back?
Willow sighed dramatically, her expression downcast, yet her eyes screamed with joy.
"And here I was about to use these to repair your clothes, but it seems you don't want them. How unfortunate"
So that's your angle…
It had to be said, Leonidas hated losing to his very last bone, especially so to the ever-irritating Willow. He hated losing so much that he was about to abandon his shame and do something very un-knightly.
"Unfortunate indeed, but what can we do? I can't burden you, now can I, Willow dearest?"
Saying so, Leonidas stood up, wiped the blood off his face, and began his attempt to take off the sticky shirt. It clung to him…literally, refusing to get off.
The blood must have acted as some sort of impromptu adhesive, but whatever the case, it was annoying. Leonidas struggled a little, his body moving in circles.
"Take your time… it's not like we only have hours to live."
Willow's words of… encouragement didn't help, but Leonidas managed to pry it off.
"You got it! Now all that's left is—"
She gasped all of a sudden, more out of surprise than anything else, and Leonidas tilted his head to see her raven eyes trained on him…more specifically, his back.
Oh, I had forgotten.
"What in the name of the 27 happened to your back…" Her expression was the same: small smile and eyes glowing black. Her voice was what took Leonidas aback. For the first time since he had met Willow, she was speaking at a normal human pace, instead of her hurried voice.
The reason for her shock, however, was most likely the hundreds of scars on his back. Faded wounds crisscrossing, some vivid while others hidden, some large, while many small. They marred his back in a vicious maze of pain.
A plethora of memories passed through his mind, but Leonidas pushed them back and only smiled. It was a happy smile, an exaggerated smile, a ridiculous smile. Yet Willow only looked down at that.
Is that pity I see? How cute.
"Just had a minor disagreement with someone, nothing much. Anyways, are you by chance sad, my dearest Willow? If you are, it doesn't really suit you."
It didn't take her a single second to bite back, a scoff leaving her lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Don't delude yourself, homeless-looking bastard. I was at most pitying you, and even that is a stretch. How my life would have been had I not met you. Now sit down here, before I change my mind."
Touche.
Of course, Leonidas knew Willow was probably trying not to laugh when she saw his scars, but how heartless could she be?
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming."
With deliberate slowness—only to annoy Willow—Leonidas sat beside her, shoulders touching. She set to work without saying another word, and Leonidas watched her wordlessly as well.
Willow's right hand rested on his chest, while the left was on the raven skirt. Slowly, like obsidian melting, the black fabric turned liquid, flowed across her arm, moved behind her neck, all the way to her other hand.
There it spilled onto Leonidas's chest like ink, spreading through the cuts and tears.
He was already wearing his shirt again, mostly because it seemed improper to sit beside a woman without clothing…
The silky fabric layered over his shirt, knitting the cuts and mending the tears. Soon enough, upon his chest was a new shirt, black in color, gleaming slightly as if charged with shadow-like light.
The stump on his right side was hidden beneath a sleeve slightly longer than normal. Willow seemed to have designed his new clothes with his…situation in mind.
His pants came next, and the blouse was used. Why Willow used the blouse for his bottom? Well, Leonidas guessed it was mostly because his pants were completely ruined.
Even calling them pants seemed like an insult, but oh well.
The process was more or less the same. She turned the blouse into a river of night, made it flow down her body, and remade his pants.
"I'm done. Now stop leaning against me, or I'll slap you. Better yet, I'll stab you…in the eyes at that."
Leonidas sighed, but obliged as he didn't want to lose his eyes.
This woman and her obsession with stabbing…
Leonidas was about to tell Willow how grateful he was, in a way that would annoy her, but his worst fear came true.
High above the dreadful clouds of black, the pinwheel had just shifted.
An insidious sound followed, one that made Leonidas wish he had both hands, just to shut his ears.