▬▬ 𝕺nce the sun woke up from its slumber, the sun's glorious rays covered every corner of the 40th floor. Its blinding rays prompted the residents to awaken from their slumber and start out their day. Hockney was one of the few residents that woke up early instead of sleeping in. However, he didn't wake up early to finish the day early instead; he woke up early for his departure.
Currently, the pale man was outside. His signature blue fluffy coat hugged his form with warmth, whilst his left hand clutched onto his baggage and his right hand holding onto the lantern.
As for his uniquely designed eyes, they longingly stared at the horizon. Although the freshly made azure skies above him weren't the real deal. It still did the trick of calming down his nerves.
Was he nervous? He won't lie, he is nervous. The painter is literally gambling his life away to the unknown with no precise numbers for his victory. At this point, he is relying on his luck to guide him to his soul. Which is probably a bad idea.
A sigh left his lips. His doubts relentlessly remind him it's not too late to turn back. His body is even itching to go back into the covers because it was cold as hell, despite him already wearing a thick coat.
"David, calm down." He reassured himself out loud, which cost him some passersby, raising eyebrows at his actions but continued on with their day.
"You're scared, I know that. But, your soul isn't complete so you aren't completely scared, right?" The rushed words of reassurement made him facepalm. What was he trying to say in the first place?
"The fuck am I trying to say?"
For a moment, his eyes widened, followed by a chuckle. He didn't expect to pick up Y/N's habit of cussing.
Speaking of her, has she woken up yet? Hopefully, she hasn't woken up yet. He wouldn't want her to walk in on his terrible attempt at talking to himself. He isn't inside the house but he's sort of loitering on the porch, while epically failing to reassure his anxious self.
Since he didn't want to risk the blacksmith walking in on him, trying to reassure his anxious self. He headed to the hell train platform, but at a slow pace.
On his way there, nostalgia was drowning his thoughts, thus preventing his mind from processing the reality before him. His once anxious mind is momentarily calm. The anxiousness that overwhelmed him moved to the backstage, waiting for its performance to begin.
With each advance he took, he'd recall moments from the past. As he walked past a nearby pastel colored building, he recalled the time when Y/N treated him to ice cream while he was feeling down.
Hockney walked past a couple of bumbling idiots drinking and smoking early in the morning. Their actions made him scrunch his nose in disgust, but he headed to the platform. While walking past them, their disgusting actions helped him recall the time that he stopped Y/N from smoking and the moment she passed out from drinking.
His lips stretched into a small smile as the nostalgia took over him. Recalling the past felt refreshing. Although some memories weren't pleasant, the time you spent with someone you cherish is worth it; Even if there was a problem straining the relationship. After all, conflict can't be avoided, the only resolve would be to face the conflict.
Unfortunately, Y/N doesn't want to face the problem. David won't put it up against her. After all, she's gone through a lot of traumas, like losing her friends and her family. She's all alone...
The thought of the blacksmith's loneliness made the artist stop in his tracks. He's near the platform, but he couldn't help but fret about Y/N. How was she going to survive without him?
The horned girl can fully take care of herself, but she's not very good at taking care of herself mentally. If he left, then what was going to happen to her? Is she going to handle it well?
By now, something rooted his mind and feet to the idea of returning to Y/N's house. The only thing that was stopping him from doing so was time. Time is literally ticking right before him. The nearest clock had its hands rotating and nearing "8", which meant it's going to be 8am soon. 8am also is the arrival time of Hell Train.
As if on cue, someone was calling out for Hockney. At first, it tempted him to turn his head and reply, but he refused to do so because he knew that the person who was calling out for him was someone he didn't want to see right now.
"HOCKNEY!"
"HOCKNEY!"
"HOCKNEY!"
That was the third time Y/N screamed for Hockney's attention, but he gave her none. Maybe this is her karma for avoiding him. She's willing to scream the fourth time but her lungs couldn't muster enough air to scream while running again.
She even feels like her legs have given up on her. How the hell was she going to catch up with David now?
"If I move my hands fast enough, then he won't die." Y/N thought out loud whilst a risky idea popped into her head. It was risky, but it was worth the shot.
For the first time in eleven years, her signature shinsu spear began forming out of thin air. She placed all her weight on her feet. Her eyes determined to look for her target and stop him from walking away from her.
"HOCKNEY YOU DEAF FUCKER!" She screamed with all her might, then carelessly threw the spear with the remaining strength she had preserved.
For a moment, Hockney's eyes flickered. He saw that a bright shinsu spear was going to pierce the rock right beside him. He's not sure if Y/N was intentionally shooting for the rock or not, but he grabbed his lantern, ready to apprehend her from doing anymore damage.
As he was about to face his opponent, someone tackled him to the ground, their arms firm around his waist. And as expected, they both fell, since nothing was supporting their weight, except for gravity and the land below them.
For a moment, silence filled the air. Hockney's eyes were finally elsewhere, but his gaze wasn't on the blacksmith. His attention was on the sky.
Now that he saw how much time had passed, he couldn't help but be tempted to recreate the sky's colors into his sketchbook. It would be a nice relic of the 40th floor but he highly doubts he'd have enough time to do that right now.
"Let me go." David said with a sad smile that the blacksmith will never see because she scrunched up her eyes in denial.
"No...." She readjusted for a bit; Now letting go of the male's waist. The horned girl's arms were on either side of the male's head, along with her figure towering over his lanky form.
"Am I not allowed to be selfish for once?" The H/C haired girl cried. As sadness and denial kept building up to where her eyes started flooding, that sadness she had tried to keep inside.
Finally, the blacksmith was being vulnerable to Hockney. As much as he would love to commend her for mustering enough courage to be vulnerable to him. Now was the bad time to do so, especially since the train was going to arrive soon.
"I am my own judge, so set me free Y/N." He said with a smile. As he carefully wiped away the tears that kept rolling down her cheeks.
▬▬ 𝕱𝐢𝐧.𝕮𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 8
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♡ㅤㅤ ≡ ㅤ➭ㅤ ㅤ⌂
ᴸⁱᵏᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉⁿᵗ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ˢᵃᵛᵉ