Art of darkness

​She stood there, mezmerized. For what must have been minutes, all she could do is stare at a masterfull dance, with glints of light flashing from the blade in his hand.
She had known he carried a knife since they met. She knew the knife was only a tool, and he the weapon. But she never considered that he would be that familiar, that comfortable, that… beautiful.

Suddenly he stops, and with a effortless whirl the knife dissapeared into the sheath hidden at his side. He looks over to her and says “Do you want to learn?”

The darkness lured her in, as she took a blunted blade off the table nearby. He showed her the flowing motions, and so they began to dance together, slowly deflecting and attacking, each taking their turn.

“This is so much fun!” She exclaims. He lovingly takes her hand, looks her deep in the eyes and says:

“It is supposed to be fun. This is the art of darkness. If you take away the art, the fun, all you are left with is darkness and death” he paused to choose his words carefully “If I was left to only darkness, I would be doomed to die, or worse, become a monster.”

He put his hand on her cheek, then softly kissed her.

With a sparkle in his eye, he took her hand, and they danced until the sun set. As the darkness fell around them, they walked hand in hand to the light emitting from their home.

Havoc

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