When Y/N feels love for the first time in his entire life, will he be able to see through the voices of the past that curse him to this day?
Will he eventually be able to let go of the love that was deprived of him for so long?
"You don't want to be here for your friend?" Emptiness continued to taunt her.
"She's not my friend anymore. She doesn't remember me. I can't save her." She paused, "I'm no good to anyone."
Emptiness gave a small smirk, before snapping her fingers. Everything went black.
The last thing Raven heard was the blood-curdling screams of her Tamaranean friend, accompanied by a horrible thumping sound, and the sinister chuckle of the grotesque, hulking figure.
• • • • • • • •
It was quiet. An odd change from the typical ambiance of chaos in the background of misery.
Unlike her past 2... teleportations, Raven was not disorienated, or loaded with any stress as to where she was.
"I know this place."
She stood in a weakly lit room with grey blank walls and an uncovered mattress placed in the middle. The room smelt fresh and looked elegantly neat and tidy; an enjoyable shift of scenery.
However, it wasn't the room itself that drew her attention.
"Y/N."
Y/N sat against the big wall-length window that ran the length of the room. His knees were arched, and he held what appeared to be a clipboard with a sheet of paper attached to it. Deep in concentration and tranquility, he scrawled on the piece of paper with a graphite pencil.
"Y/N?" she hopefully stammered.
Emptiness made herself known from the corner of the room, "When will you learn, Raven? He can't-"
"I know that much," she snapped in retaliation. "Why are we here? It's just a normal night at the Tower."
"True, it may be. But this is in fact the very night before he disappeared for good."
Raven looked at the clock...
4:58AM - the time read.
Wanting to savor the moment, Raven approached his spot in the window, taking a seat next to him. He was still completely unaware that she was there.
She closed her eyes and placed her head on his shoulder, letting out a big sigh of relief.
She ignored how pitiful she was feeling. She was simply pursuing her half-assed aspirations under the illusion of a second chance. She was never here during this lonely moment shared by Y/N and his own struggle. She was probably sleeping soundly a few doors down, while Y/N sat alone in his room, disconnected from the outside world.
As she opened her eyes, she drew her eyes to the clipboard Y/N was scribbling on.
Her eyes widened.
He was drawing a portrait... of her.
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