crimsonamaranthine-deactivated2:
Your muse finds mine lying on the floor; bleeding, bruised, with a bullet wound in their side; they’re dying. What does your muse do?
——
This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was an attack out of nowhere; dishonorable and unholy. Xiaoqiao was littered with her own cuts and bruises, but her pain was minimal. Unimportant - just like everything else compared to the image in front of her.
He was dying. Even her optimistic mind couldn’t combat with the reality. She could tell by the never-ending amount of blood, the wound, and the blank expression on the other’s face. The only thing that gave her hope was what she heard: breathing. Her vision quickly became blurred with tears as she gracelessly ran to Lu Xun’s side. “Oh my God!” she shrieked, collapsing onto her knees next to him, her hands messily laying over him. “No, not you too— no!”
Tears were streaming down her cheeks, her face completely contorted from the hysterics of her crying. She didn’t want to believe it. He was okay. He couldn’t just die. He couldn’t. He won’t. “Y-You’re going t-to be okay—,” she choked out, pushing him as if it would motivate him to suddenly get back up. Without thinking, she grabbed onto his arm and attempted to tug on him, but she was too weak from all the sudden happenings to actually move him. Frustrated, she held on to his hand for a moment, staring at him with wide, sad eyes.
“I..” Her voice was strained; weak. Her words were failing her. Her entire world was failing her. “.. I..”
She leaned forward, until her forehead was pressed against his, one arm draped over his middle while the other slid under him to support his head. She was too weak to carry him to safety. Too scared. Too useless.
”.. will see you soon, okay?”
To feel death’s embrace… it was almost like he was human. But what happens when a shadow like him dies? He was motionless—too weak to move, too weak to talk. All he could do was watch the world around him as he was fading away.
But someone’s here. A figure clothed in orange… a familiar face. The last person he wanted to see him in such a weak, pathetic state. Yet at the same time… he was happy she was here. He wanted her to be here, so that the last person he sees is her.
Her hasty pushes and pulls did nothing as his body remained limp. She was so sad… he didn’t want this. No matter how hard he tried moving his lips to speak, nothing would come out. He couldn’t do anything to console her in his final breaths.As she settled beside him with their foreheads pressed together, his clouded eyes gazed back at her blankly, and tears were pooling in his eyes and trailing to the earth beneath them. He was going quickly, but he was fighting to stay—just long enough to give her a message.
Move, you idiot…
This is it. This is your last chance, so…
Fucking move.With every ounce of his energy, quivering fingers gently rested against the young girl’s cheek, and on his face was the smallest yet most loving smile he could muster for her. It was all he could do, before everything faded to black… but he hoped that somehow, she would understand everything he’d felt.
Thank you…