In the Best Interests of The Enemy

“This is exactly the reason I didn’t invite you to my wedding.”

Their legs dangled off the rooftop, swinging precariously as the wind blew their ankles. It wasn’t too dark just yet. Ianthe could just make out the woman next to her. Their fortnightly (violence-free, therapist-free) rooftop therapy sessions had, in all honesty, become the part of the month she looked forward to most.

The woman beside her scoffed and shook her head lightly.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?”

Dear Callum: I don’t really think I even believe that you’re gone

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Greystones you are

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You’re 16. Diagnosis is like suddenly being allowed to try to free yourself from a straitjacket

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“Selene, I will literally set you on fire right now.”

Her threat was promptly ignored.

“And anyway,” the woman beside her continued, “from what I remember, you didn’t invite me to your wedding because we’re supposed to be killing each other, Ianthe.”

Ah yes, that. Now how do you explain that. It’s easy to forget you’re supposed to be smacking 10 levels of shite out of someone after sharing a few beers and emotional baggage. Seeing someone so vulnerable, knowing their motives, realising just how human they both were. What’s said on the roof, stays on the roof. That’s the rule, right? And yet… the sight of the girl beside her, her hair dishevelled and eyes puffy from unspilt tears. A few new gashes littered her face along with the old silver lines that read like an open book. (Ianthe took pride in the fact she’d actually gotten a few hits in.) They glistened a little, still slightly open and wet.

“You’re bleeding.” Ianthe pointed out. The woman beside her turned to look at her. Her eyes filled with slight amusement and she laughed lightly to herself.

“Now I wonder why that would be.”

“Shut up and sit still.”

Ianthe pulled a small glass bottle from her pouch, along with cotton swabs and a box of plasters that had tiny pictures of My Little Pony characters printed on the front. If she was going to fix up someone like Selene, she might as well make the most of it. Nothing like a little humiliation to spice up a night with your enemy.

The silence that fell between them wasn’t unusual, nor was it uncomfortable. Ianthe placed the small box of plasters on the floor beside her and unscrewed the cap of the bottle in her hand. Taking a cotton swab, she dipped it into the translucent (and rather foul-smelling) liquid before gently applying it to the open wound on Selene’s cheek.

“Ow, Jesus Christ, does it ever stop bloody stinging!?” Selene hissed as the swab touched her wound. She batted Ianthe’s hand away from her face with a scowl.

At that, Ianthe pressed the swab harder into her skin, smirking slightly as all fight left the girl in front of her with a another hiss.

“Every time you complain and yet every time you let me do it.” Ianthe smiled, a glint of something, probably dangerous, in her eyes.

“Better than paying for healthcare.” Selene mumbled. Her knuckles had turned white from gripping her leg and her face had scrunched up slightly, giving away her discomfort. “I’d rather this than pay five grand for the same thing, seriously! What’s wrong with this damn country?”

Ianthe let out a small chuckle and shook her head. She’d never admit it but she did agree with the sentiment. Though, maybe she should be charging for her time.

“One day I’ll start charging you and you’ll take that back.” She said.

“You’re the one who did this to me. See it as payment for your crimes.” Selene scoffed.

“My crimes? Now please correct me if I’m wrong but you’re one of the most wanted people in the country right now.” Ianthe countered. “Let’s see, three counts of first-degree murder, armed robbery, two counts of vehicular manstlaughter? Now really! How can you vehicularly manslaughter twice? You’re either a murderer or just really stupid at that point-“

“Okay! Okay, we get it. Just- just finish what you’re doing.”

And with that, the silence passed over them again. Ianthe finished up putting the final plaster on Selene’s face, the blank eyes of the My Little Pony staring back at her. It was some purple one with wings. She smiled and packed the rest of her “very professional and sophisticated” medical supplies back into the pouch on her hip.

“Done and done!” She smiled, patting Selene on the cheek she’d just bandaged up, causing the woman to glare at her.

“Thanks,” she said dryly. If Ianthe didn’t know better, she would’ve thought it was just a passing comment, but she knew she meant it somewhere deep, deep down.

Selene stood up slowly and offered her hand.

“Come on Selene, take me out to dinner first!” Ianthe laughed, taking her hand anyway. The look on Selene’s face made it worth it. If looks could kill, Ianthe would have kicked the bucket before she’d even left the womb.

Selene brushed her hand off on her shirt. Ianthe watched. She felt her throat close up a little, knowing the peace of the night was ending. Part of her (most of her) didn’t want it to end. Why had they to keep fighting? Why must one of them die? She knew these thoughts were useless. That’s just how it was for them. Maybe in another life they could have been friends. Maybe they were friends now! But do friends try to destroy one another? Do friends treat each other the way they do? Can they even keep meeting like this?

“God, snap out of it Ianthe, you absolute nutter.”

“Where are you off to now?” Ianthe asked. There was no point in thinking about friendship at this point.

“Now where’s the fun in telling you that?” Selene smiled. “Maybe I’ll add another vehicular manslaughter charge to the list.”

Ianthe laughed and shook her head before looking up at the girl in front of her. She’d made her mind up.

“I’ll catch you one day, Selene.” She said. “And when I do, I’ll make sure those manslaughter charges are murder charges.”

“I look forward to it.”

And with that she was gone. Only a faint breeze left as any proof she’d even been there.