Two Eyes Cenote [m] Tea Party

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It was always with her. Not an undercurrent, or memory, but in the twice-breathed air between she and Legend. 

She had become separate when it happened, a fragment of herself forever caught in that initial time. She’d rebuilt without and around it. 

But it was not in her, it was her. 

“I deserve it. He is half of me. He is attached to my soul.” A smell and taste she cannot forget because it is her own. 

As she lifts his eyes to look into the mazoi’s, the greater horror is that she is not alone. Her pain is Legend’s.

She had no name for what she felt.