xiaolumi oneshots ♡

hurt

HE WAS ANGRY. I COULD see the hurt, the longing, the desperation, on his face, every tear falling down his cheek laced with pain.

I wanted to do something, anything, to take his agony away, but he'd just lost his father -- there was nothing I could do to make him change how he felt.

His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his black pants and jacket wrinkled and wet in the pouring rain. It was rather cliché, really, that it was raining on the day of the funeral. The cold sent shivers down my spine and water seeped into my shoes, but I didn't care. All I cared about was him.

I knew he could be temperamental, that he went through aggressive mood swings and dips. I was scared -- scared that maybe, just maybe, he'd stand out in the rain, drowning himself in his tears.

And that's why, when I saw him standing at the freshly buried grave, I grabbed the nearest umbrella I could find and dashed out to him, leaving the warm reception hall in favor of ensuring he was okay.

His eyes were red, swollen, tears pouring from them in a fierce torrent that rivaled the rain itself. It hurt me to see him like this. He was my oldest friend, best friend, and now my boyfriend. I could always get him to crack a smile, even on his worst days, but now . . . God, I didn't even want to think about that.

I stepped to his side and adjusted the umbrella so he was covered. Not that it mattered, really, for he was already soaked, but it was something, at least.

Better than nothing.

It was just as I wrapped an arm around his waist that he let out a choking sob and clinged to me desperately. He was in shambles -- alone, afraid, angry at the world and at himself.

I didn't know what to do, so I let the umbrella fall from my hands and I hugged him with everything I had. I ran my fingers through his hair, getting them soaking wet in the process, but I couldn't have cared less.

In my arms was a broken boy, longing for something he could never have again.

He cried like the world was burning around him

I let him.

He fell to his knees, dragging me down with him.

I let him.

He dug his face into my chest, arms hanging limply at his side and shoulders heaving with every sob.

I let him.

We were both soaked, a mix of the rain and his tears -- clothes, hair, shoes, everything -- when at long last, he stopped crying. Not forever, but for now at least, it seemed like he had no more tears left to cry.

I still held him, gently rocking him back and forth, steadying his breathing ever so slightly. He sniffled and turned his head to face his father's grave.

Etched in the fresh marble was MORAX TERRAE: A LIFE WELL LIVED. BELOVED FATHER, SON, BROTHER, AND HUSBAND.

I felt tears burn at the back of my eyes and I quickly blinked to clear them. I couldn't lose face in front of him.

Just then he pulled away and sat on his heels. His hands lay on his knees and his gaze rested on me.

Gently, I reached out and cupped his cheek in my hand. He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch. Another tear ran down his face, but he didn't cry out again.

I didn't want to break the silence. So much was being said right now, but so much still needed to be said. I was torn until he whispered, "Thank you, Lumi."

I planted a light kiss on his cheek.

He and I locked gazes. He always had beautiful eyes -- light brown with little golden flecks sprinkled throughout that glowed the in the sun. Surprisingly, I had just the opposite -- oddly golden eyes with brown specks.

"For what it's worth," I whispered," I'm sorry. You don't deserve this pain, any of this suffering . . . . and I know that can't bring him back, but . . . ."

Xiao sniffled and shook his head. "Lumine, I can't-" Then his voice broke. He dug his face into my chest again and I held him, listening to his ghastly sobbing.

He was going through so much, and all I could do was give him a hug. It hurt, knowing I couldn't do anything. All of him was a broken mess, an empty shell.

"God, I miss him so much," he croaked.

I kissed the top of his head and twined my fingers in his hair. "I know, Xiao," I whispered back. "I know."

He was trembling, cold. His lips were blue and his skin was pale than usual.

"We can't stay out here," I told him, draping my shawl over his shoulders in a desperate attempt to keep him warm. "You'll freeze."

"I don't care," Xiao muttered, clinging to my dress.

I gave a light sigh and wrapped my arms around him. The rain had eased a bit into a light drizzle, running through our hair and down our clothes. At least he wasn't crying anymore, I reminded myself.

"I want this to be over," Xiao whispered hoarsely. "I want . . . I want him back." Again he buried himself in my embrace, tears tracing their way down his cheek.

"Oh, Xiao . . . ." I trailed off, thinking how best to comfort him. Taking in a shaky breath, I said, "I can't promise that . . . that this pain will ever go away, but . . . I will be with you the entire way."

He closed his eyes and nodded. He choked out another sob and I pulled him in for another hug.

"I love you so much," I told him softly, kissing the top of his head and holding him close. Thinking of his father, I added, "And I know he did, too."

He grew quiet for a moment before responding with a quiet, "I love you, too," which sounded more like "ilorfyooto" through his crying.

Even if was just then, even if it was just for that one moment, I knew everything would be okay, that Xiao would be okay, that everyone would be okay.

And as I sat there in the drizzle, holding my love tightly in my arms, refusing to let him slip away into the oblivion of sadness that was crushing him, he hugged me back, never once letting his grip slacken.

I knew I'd give my heart and soul to see him happy again; but alas, it'd be a while before he'd smile. For now though, it was enough for him for me to be there, holding him, kissing him, comforting him -- we were enough for each other that day.

And we always would be.