Snippet #17214

“Laban!” Dahlia called back, startled by the panic in his tone. “Oh my god, hang on!” She raced towards him quickly, avoiding the sharp edges of wooden crates and numerous pieces of scrap metal on the ground. She moved with surprising grace for one who lacked it completely from their personality. In fact, her agility was the only she could truly count on, her psyche being as unreliable as it was.

She skidded to a stop in front of him, noting with panic that he was more than halfway transformed already. She took his hand into hers, hoping to steady him, only to find out that her hands were shaking as well. Lips tingling softly with the beginnings of hyperventilation, Dahlia whispered, “It’s alright. I’m here.” It sounded depressingly unreassuring, even to her ears.

Breathe, the voice whispered. Deep breaths this time.

She felt her lungs respond, even though her mind was still racing. When she found her voice she began to sing, ever so softly, the song that her mother had taught her all those years ago.

“Os iusti meditabitur sapientiam,
Et lingua eius loquetur indicium.

Beatus vir qui suffert tentationem,
Quoniqm cum probates fuerit accipient coronam vitae.

Kyrie, fons bonitatis.
Kyrie, ignis divine, eleison.

O quam sancta, quam serena,
Quam benigma, quam amoena esse Virgo creditur.
O quam sancta, quam serena,
Quam benigma, quam amoena,
O castitatis lilium.”

She had taught him the song when they first met, and throughout their time together it had become the anchor that kept them both from getting lost in their demons. When one of them fell, the other would bring them back up with this song. It was a reminder that the sins they committed had no right to this place they shared, and it kept the memories and guilt away while they remained together in their sanctuary.