"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, never been better."
"I'm fine."
How did it go wrong? Was it obvious it would happen? Were they to blame? Could they have prevented this outcome? Questions whirled around the Yanar's mind, the brushing hand leaving the mane behind to press against the mirrored visage, eyes tracing over all the new changes to them. A small flinch escaped them, the first crack in their defense.
"I'm fine."
Oh how they wanted to tell. How they wanted to find comfort in their friends, family, anyone who could possibly understand and help them.....But they couldn't. Attempts of affection now made them tense, thoughts racing through without their consent. 'Would this person leave too? Will I be alone once-more? Will they all simply...walk away? Am I secretly nothing to them, the truth hidden behind their smile and concern?' Another flinch, another crack, this time accompanied by added pressure to the reflective surface.
"I'm...fine?"
The Yanar's hand made a fist, knuckles against their mirror as they shook lightly. It was expected. They were a Yanar. They did not die of age. It was...accepted they would outlive everyone else. But people leaving before then was not. They could see them walking around, talking with people, smiling and laughing...yet all they felt was a hole in their chest. It hurt so much, and they stayed completely silent. A trail slowly made its way down from their eyes, making ripples in the basin; another crack."I'm...."
Their fist pulled back, smashing against the mirror and cracking its smooth surface. Droplets fell from their cut knuckles, dyeing the water below slowly green. It wasn't a dragon that broke them. It wasn't an Arken. It wasn't fights and injuries from being a guard. All it took was one person, over days, to finally make them fall. They couldn't sleep, the warmth gone from the bed once shared at nights. They couldn't bond with their flowers, simply unable to bring up the intent.
"......"
They let out a choked cry, slowly dropping onto the ground, against the wall. Their bleeding hand held as they stared at the broken mirror through damp eyes. The Yanar was strong. They kept going through it all it seemed. But everything has a point. A point that they couldn't take it all. Like a steady increase of force to a sword, they had finally snapped. Quiet sobs escaped the room of their otherwise silent house. They would hide it behind a mask, as best they could. It would take time, but the Yanar had plenty. For now, they couldn't even manage a smile that was truly one. It soon grew quiet again, the Yanar having drifted off into a restless sleep, slumped against the washroom wall. Maybe they'll find someone, someday, to put them back together. But that wasn't now. Now...they were all alone with a single thought, one that they wouldn't admit outside of their own mind.
"I'm not fine."
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