My Friend and Love
'Stop…stop…stop.' A woman kept uttering in her mind as he watch a bloodied man trying to reach her. She wanted to scream every time the man receives a blow from her warriors. But she did not…no matter how much she want to. Even if the man falls she will not.
She can not.
But that man, who is he again? Yes, she remembers now…he's the enemy is he not? Thus he deserve the suffering he is under, correct? If only that man does not look like that friend of hers. She remembers quite vividly her friend…and her love. Come to think of it that bloodied man reaching for her fights like her friend as well. They move so gracefully yet lethal. It was like watching a death dance. Is there such thing?
What…her eyes suddenly got blurry. Is it…tears?
Why ever is she crying? Ahhhh…the man is—wounded. Arrows are imbedded in his now battered body. Then that man can not be her love…he's the best warrior ever grazed the ranks of her army. He won't be held down by mealy arrows, no one have ever defeated him. She even remembers that first time when he save her from a group of private troops. This man reaching for her…it's not him. There were so much noise around her…it's her generals trying to stop the bloodied man. For someone who had mortal wounds he doesn't seem to be daunted by her warriors. In fact he even throws them around—but not without gaining wound after wound.
The man…why is he looking at her? He's eyes never left her…why? He could have live if he didn't try to reach for her. What is his reason for fighting her army alone? Is it his form of retribution? Why? Why does this man doing this? And why does her throat constrict like she can't breathe?
Why does it hurt…there…in her chest?
How odd…his hands were reaching out but one of her generals blocks his path. She didn't notice that the man now is just a few steps away from her. Maybe it's because her eyes are so blurry now…the tears just won't stop coming. But it's nothing compared to the bloodied man…it seemed like he was crying blood. His lips moved.
She did not hear what he said. Though whatever it was…she will never forget the look on his face when he whispered those words.
It was full of devotion and sincerity and longing. It was the look that stopped her hands from trembling. It was the look that sent her to sleep in peace for the first time in her life. The look that she—if were given the chance—would like to see in the remaining times she has.
It was the look of her friend…her love. Now it was frozen by death as his body fall to the ground…it was her Bidam.