Elysium: Desired by the Cold-hearted Princess [GL]

Chapter 430 430: Divided

Third-person POV

Electra stood frozen in front of the mirror, her eyes locked on the second version of herself as if looking away would make it disappear. The silence between them lasted only for a moment, but it felt longer than it should have, heavy with something she didn't fully understand. Her heart was still unsettled from everything she had been feeling, and now, seeing another version of herself standing there, staring back at her, only made everything feel even more confusing.

"Yes… I am."

The voice sounded like hers, but not entirely. It was softer, weaker somehow, and there was something inside it that Electra didn't like. It trembled slightly, as if it was struggling to hold itself together, and the sadness in it was so clear that it almost felt like it was filling the entire room.

Electra frowned slightly, her brows pulling together as she studied the other version of herself more carefully. The way she stood, the way her eyes looked, the way her lips trembled slightly as if she was holding back something, it all felt foreign to Electra, even though she was looking at her own face.

"Why are you so sad?" Electra asked, her tone flat but laced with irritation. "He's just a man we don't even know, and he's dead. That's all."

The moment she said it, the other Electra's expression changed slightly, her eyes softening in a way that made something twist in Electra's chest again. It was a subtle change, but it carried so much intensity that it made Electra uncomfortable.

"You may not know him," the reflection said quietly, her voice still shaking slightly, "but I do."

Electra didn't respond right away. She just kept staring, her gaze sharp, as if she was trying to find something in the other girl's face that would explain why she felt this way.

"He was our father," the reflection continued, her voice growing softer with each word. "The last parent we had."

The words settled into the air slowly, and as they did, something inside Electra shifted again. The tight feeling in her chest came back, stronger this time, and before she could stop it, her fingers curled slightly against the edge of the sink.

She didn't like it. She didn't like how her body reacted to words that should have meant nothing to her. She didn't like how her chest felt heavier, how her throat felt tight, how her eyes started to sting again.

It made no sense, and yet, it was happening.

Electra let out a small scoff, trying to brush it off as if it didn't matter. "Was he a good father?" she asked bluntly, her tone almost challenging, like she was trying to prove a point.

The reflection didn't hesitate. "No," she said.

The answer came quickly, almost too quickly, and it caught Electra off guard for a moment. There was no hesitation, no doubt, no attempt to soften it.

"He was a terrible father," the reflection added, her voice steady despite the sadness in it. "A very terrible one."

Electra's lips curved slightly into a dry, almost humorless smile as she leaned back just a little, her arms folding loosely across her chest. "Then what's the problem?" she asked. "Why are you standing there looking like that? Why are you crying over someone who treated you badly while he was alive?"

Her tone wasn't cruel, but it wasn't gentle either. It was stern and direct, the kind of question that demanded an answer.

"Shouldn't we be happy?" she added. "If he was that terrible, then his death should be a good thing."

For a moment, the reflection didn't respond. She just stood there, her eyes fixed on Electra, as if she was trying to find the right words. Then she let out a soft breath, her shoulders lowering slightly.

"It doesn't work like that," she said quietly.

Electra frowned.

"Even if he was horrible," the reflection continued, her voice softer now, almost fragile, "he was still our father. That doesn't just disappear because he was a bad person."

As she spoke, her eyes started to fill with tears again, and this time, they didn't stay there. They slipped down her cheeks slowly, one after the other, leaving behind clear tracks that made the sadness on her face even more obvious.

"I hated him," she admitted, her voice breaking slightly. "I resented him. There were so many times I wished I could just disappear so that I wouldn't have to deal with him anymore."

Electra stayed silent, watching her closely.

"But I also loved him," the reflection added, her voice barely above a whisper now.

The words hit harder than Electra expected them to. Something in her chest tightened painfully, and before she could stop it, her vision blurred slightly as tears started to form in her own eyes again. She blinked, trying to push them back, but it didn't work.

The sadness in the reflection's voice felt too real, too close, like it was reaching into her and pulling something out that she didn't want to feel, and when she looked at the mirror again, all she could see was it.

The sadness, not just in the reflection, but in herself too.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she tried to steady herself, her breathing uneven as she forced herself to speak again.

"That doesn't mean I have to feel the same way," she said, her voice tighter now, a hint of frustration creeping into it. "Just because you loved him doesn't mean I have to. I don't even remember him."

The reflection shook her head slowly, her expression soft but firm. "It doesn't matter," she said.

Electra's frown deepened. "What do you mean it doesn't matter?" she asked, her tone sharper now.

"It means," the reflection continued, her voice gaining a little strength despite the tears still falling, "that no matter how hard we try to separate it, we can't. You can tell yourself you don't care, you can tell yourself you don't feel anything, but it won't change the truth."

Electra's hands tightened slightly at her sides. "And what truth is that?" she asked, her voice low.

"That we won't ever see him again," the reflection said simply. "And that hurts."

Electra clenched her jaw. "I don't want to feel this," she said, her voice rising slightly, frustration now clear in her tone. "I don't like it. I don't like not being in control of my own emotions. This is pointless, and it's weak. You're weak."

The reflection didn't argue. Instead, she just looked at her, her expression calm in a way that made Electra even more irritated.

"Then don't fight it," she said softly.

Electra stared at her, disbelief flashing across her face. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"Let yourself feel it," the reflection continued. "Let yourself be sad."

"I don't want to be sad," Electra snapped, her voice sharp now. "I don't need it."

The reflection didn't flinch. "Whether you want it or not doesn't matter," she said gently.

Electra opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, something changed.

The mirror shifted. It happened so suddenly that for a moment, Electra thought she imagined it. The reflection blurred slightly, the image distorting just enough to make her pause, and then, just as quickly, it settled again, but something was different.

There were no longer two of them. Electra's breath caught slightly as she stared at the mirror, her eyes narrowing as she tried to understand what she was seeing.

The face staring back at her… wasn't hers entirely. It was the same face, but it wasn't her expression or her eyes.

It was the human. The blue eyes, the softer features, and the calm, knowing look that made Electra's chest tighten again. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then slowly, the reflection smiled. It was small, almost sad, but there was something certain about it that made Electra feel uneasy.

"Don't forget," the reflection said quietly.

Electra's brows furrowed. "Forget what?"

"That we are one," the reflection replied.

Electra's jaw tightened immediately. "No."

"One body," the reflection continued, ignoring her, her voice steady and clear now. "One mind. One soul."

Electra shook her head, her expression hardening as she took a small step back from the mirror. "I am not human," she said firmly.

The reflection's smile didn't fade. "For as long as we are alive," she said softly, "you are."