rainfall

It was raining. It so often was in Rhajuvran. Petrai would not miss it. She hated the rain- the way the air was thick with water, the way her heavy, wet clothes clung to her skin. No- the hot, moonsoonal weather was not something she would miss. The constant storms and mud caked onto her boots, she could do without. All the better she was leaving, really.

There were other things in Rhajuvran more difficult to leave behind.

She saw Sadihak before they came out into the lattice-sheltered courtyard, their rage-tense body tracing the same path she had taken in the corners of her allsight. Though they knew she could see them without looking, and she knew she could see them without looking, she still turned around when they slid the door closed behind them. It was the polite thing to do.

And Sadihak's expression was one she wanted to meet with her own eyes. They were shaking, from both the chill of being caught in the rain and the pure rage that coursed through them. Petrai didn't need to have their powers to tell that much. Their hands were balled in fists, their brow furrowed in an angry crease. Their hair and clothes- usually so neatly, perfectly arranged, were frumpy and awry. They held their lips slightly parted, breathing heavily, as if they had run here. If they weren't wearing incredibly impractical shoes, Petrai might've assumed they had.

Sadihak wasted no time on pleasantries. "You aren't going back to him." As soon as their gaze met, the words were out. Not a question, not a plea. A simple statement. A manifestation of the reality Sadihak wanted so desparatly to be true.

Petrai couldn't help but grimace. She disguised the motion as wiping rainwater off her face. "I have to. It's my duty."

"No, you don't." Sadihak bit back, cutting her off. "You don't have to do anything for him. He's done jack shit for you."

"I'm indebted to him." Petrai cut Sadihak off as quickly as they had her. "He saved my life."

"Fuck your debt! What use is it if you just spend that life at the beck and call of a guy who doesn't even respect you?" Sadihak jabbed an accusatory finger at the door, metaphorically at Yeonaixho. "He doesn't deserve you."

Petrai closed her eyes- as always, only her physical ones- and took in a heavy breath. She didn't like what she was about to say. She needed to say it, anyways. "He needs me."

"Oh, god." Sadihak groaned. They braced themself on a nearby column and cradled their face in their free groan. They let out a low, mournful groan, that at the end seemed to morph into a pitiable sob. "God, Petrai. Haven't you ever thought about anyone else? Anyone other than him? Have you ever considered that I might need you?"

Something awful wretched at Petrai's core, and she could no longer lay her real gaze on Sadihak. She turned her back on them. "You'll move on. Find some new pretty, dark-haired crow to fuck the brains out of and make yourself feel better."

"Fuck you, Petrai." They accused. In her allsight, she could see them looking at her again, their posture tense. "Fuck you. You think it was only about sex for me? You think- you think I can't feel anything but sexual desire? Do you even hear yourself? Fuck you."

"You certainly made it seem like you wanted to do nothing but fuck me." Petrai retorted. She tried to keep her voice as steady as she could- but both of their retorts were too biting. She cared too much. "The first thing you ever said to me was an invitation to your bed."

Sadihak had been pacing while she spoke. "You talk like we've done nothing else together. You talk like we never shared any jokes, or long horrible nights. You talk like we never spoke about running away to Loros together. You talk like we had nothing."

"We did have nothing." Petrai bit out, the words tasting like vinegar. "It was all nothing. Not in any way that pales in comparison to my sworn duty to the Lifebringer. It was a mistake I shouldn't have made. I shouldn't have allowed this to happen between us. It was nothing, and can remain nothing. You are… nothing to me."

Sadihak made an exasperated sound, and began to approach her. Petrai squeezed her eyes shut and stretched the limits of her allsight so she wouldn't have to pay attention to Sadihak. She could still hear the clacking of their heels against the wet stone tile as they approached. Even when they were near her, and she could no longer hear their steps, she didn't open her eyes.

"Look at me." Sadihak demanded. Their voice was quieter, though no less angry.

Hesitantly, Petrai opened her eyes. She blinked away rainwater, and met Sadihak's gaze. Their pretty dark eyes, in this light a mirror of her own. Their face- contorted in something halfway to anger, halfway to grief.

"Tell me I'm not nothing to you." They pleaded. They took her hand. She hadn't even realized she had allowed it for taking. "Tell me you care. Tell me, please. Telll me you leave him. I love you, Petrai. I love you. Tell it to me back."

Petrai wrapped her fingers around Sadihak's hand- instinctively. Love? Had it ever come to love? And yet, though it was not a romantic, fairy-tale love, Petrai could not deny that she felt something for Sadihak. That she had grown to care for them. That she felt more free at their side than she had ever before. It was why she had to leave them. Because, no matter how much she deluded herself into the lie that she could stay by their side, it would always be that. A lie. Watchers were not meant to fall in love. Watchers were not meant to have those they cared about.

"I'm sorry." She turned aside, but did not let go of Sadihak's hand. "I have to."

"No, you don't." Sadihak urged. "You don't have to stay with him. You don't have to spend the rest of your life under his heel. We can run off together, we can be free, Petrai- just say the words, and I'm yours. Just tell-"

She cut them off with a kiss, the most abrupt and complete way she knew to get them to shut up. She couldn't take any more of it. She wanted to feel Sadihak's lips on hers one last time. She wanted to leave them a parting gift, so they might remember her by something other than how she so cruelly left them.

Sadihak melted into her. The kiss shared none of the passion of the ones they had shared previously. Sadihak was soft, they cradled her like the lover they proclaimed to be, the lover she could never have. They held her hand and caressed her fingers. Water dripped from their brow onto hers. Petrai never wanted to let go.

Eventually, she had to.

"I'm sorry." She repeated as she broke away. Her fingers fell from Sadihak's as she stepped away from them. She didn't look as she walked away, didn't hear their calls of her name or see them standing there, pathetic and rain-soaked, waiting for her to come back. Waiting for her to say it back.

She wasn't able to tell if the water streaming down her cheeks was rain or tears.