Note: lol
┏━━━━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━━━━┓
"They both found it
easier to believe in that
lie than accept the truth
of what was to come."
┗━━━━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━━━━┛
1 year later...
The innumerable stars painted the night sky, the crescent moon reflecting the light off which originated from the sun that had moved out from sight about an hour ago.
The dark shades sketching the sky allowed the stars to outshine the darkness of the backdrop. Their faint twinkles visible to the city dwellers, the myriad of stars only gaining attention from a few. The crescent was lined thin and evidently slim, it was only the second day after a new moon after all. The way it shone however, never reduced from that of a full moon.
The earthen fragrance of the soil remained constant in the air, the moist scent still lingering from the light showers that had occured before dusk.
The night was comfortingly warm, the pinch of humidity delivering a peculiar sensation to the skins.
The strumming of the guitar strings resounded in Y/n's ears. The source of the melody close to her, the plectrum pinched between her slender fingers moving in a periodic motion for the time being. It was such a familiar tune, one that had managed to give her the feeling of being cradled in loving arms, a gentle kiss being pressed against her cold skin.
It was the song she and Sam had made together.
The taste on Sam's tongue was bitter, his mouth sealed shut. Maybe it was from the lack of hydration or perhaps something entirely else.
They sat on the roof side by side, on her nineteenth birthday, a tranquil breeze brushing against them every once in a while.
With a final strum, she concluded the song, a small smile rippling on her lips. Sam didn't sputter a word or a single syllable at that, his gaze trained on his knees that he was hugging to his chest.
Eyeing him, she leaned against the brick wall, a low exhale escaping from her, "Just one year, huh?"
Sam didn't speak this time either.
He couldn't.
He couldn't take it any longer.
Acknowledging his denial to converse, she just shut her eyelids knowing well what was to come.
It's okay.
I knew it from the start, didn't I?
This day was always deemed to come and there's no helping it.
So it's alright.
Sam shuffled in his place, his jaw clenched tightly, his hands fisting the material of his pants. He wasn't ready.
He wasn't ready for all of it to be over. He seriously wasn't.
But if things continued at this rate...
He would never be prepared for what was to come.
It's okay.
This is what she wanted.
He grabbed the guitar that was placed on Y/n's lap, alerting her of his movement. She permitted her eyes to open to glance at him as he sat directly in front of her, almost on the edge of the roof.
She grinned at him warmly, "What is it?"
An almost inaudible grunt erupted from him, his voice holding little to no power at all, leaving him utterly vulnerable in front of her. When their eyes met, she could sense it. She could sense it completely. His anguish, his helplessness, his hopelessness. She could feel it in her own heart. The look in his eyes, it had shattered her just as much as it shattered him.
But neither of them could help it.
There was no escaping.
She leaned in comfortably, enveloping his cold palms into her warm ones, holding them together dearly. Her touch had sent the same current to his body just as the first time.
Nostalgia.
He despised it.
Her grin reaching her eyes, she brought their hands to her lap, "Take your time, take it easy."
Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, sharp stings contributing to his anguish. He didn't want to break down in front of her because he knew she would hug him, he knew she would rub his back soothingly and coo sweet nothings in his ear until he could piece himself back together, whether it took an hour, a day or an year, it wouldn't matter to her. And he had faith in that.
His throat hurt from the cries he was holding back, the wails he didn't allow to elude, the tears he was attempting to keep a leash on. It hurt so damn much. It hurt so damn much that he couldn't explain it to anybody in his entire lifetime.
But there was no turning back.
He had made up his mind and this was it.
"It's been five years..." he croaked, "it's been five years since we first started dating."
Five years of absolute cherishable moments.
He continued with his voice resembling fragile glass, "I never imagined you would give a chance to someone like me."
Not even in his wildest dreams.
He laughed with all he had, which came out as a mere frail laugh, the cracks in his tone vibrating deeply, "And lord, you made me the happiest man."
No joy could ever compare to the joy she gave him.
"I have been head over heels for you for a long, long time. But the day we shared our first kiss, whatever was before it couldn't compare," he smiled, the memories flooding back into his head, though it soon moulded into a firm, thin line.
"Even though I knew I wouldn't ever get to spend my life with you, no matter what the cost," his chest moved upward with the deep breath he had inhaled, eventually receding when he exhaled.
"I really love you, y'know?" his hues locked with hers, his saying everything there was to say.
She nodded, not letting go of his hands in hers.
She didn't want to let go.
She really didn't.
"I thought I could take it. I thought I could bear the pain that would follow after you leave. But goddamn... I can't even take it prior to your goodbye..." he shook his head dismissively, a lump forming in his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
His head hung down, the grip on her delicate hands slackening, "I only thought I could. I never believed I could. What I believed was... that deep down I knew I was pulling a bluff all along."
"It's funny actually how I assumed your smile was all that mattered, it in fact, is all that matters. But if it's not there... what will I do?" he looked up, as if searching an answer from her.
But she had none.
She wasn't anguished by the fact that she would stop witnessing the world when she does.
She was anguished of leaving everyone behind, leaving her loved ones behind.
"I didn't know when I began to fall for you but when I realised my feelings, the fact that you would die came written in bold with you. It's unfair but as you always said, there's really no use of sulking about it," he held her hands tighter, aware that she knew of it.
"I thought I could take it. Lord have mercy, I was stupid enough to believe I could take it. But at the end of the day... I can't," he felt his Adam's apple throb, his heart overwhelmed, everything ready to overflow from the brim.
This was it.
This was fate.
And they both saw it coming.
"I said keep to yourself, are you deaf!?"
"The name's Sam and I'm not very pleased to meet you."
"Trust me, that's the only way we can make it through,"
"I'll die on my twentieth birthday, it's of no use."
"Everyone dies one day, Y/n. So while I am with you, I won't allow you to restrain yourself from the joys of life."
"I wouldn't be happy if you aren't with me."
"Thank God, you're fine."
"I love you so much."
"Let's break up," his tears finally flowed freely, his whimper breaking her heart into pieces.
Anyhow, she nodded, gripping his hands tighter, tears cascading down her face despite the smile on her face.
Every sadness comes to an end, every joy comes to an end too.
And this was the end of theirs.
The end of their journey.
"Please stop kissing me, hugging me or showering me with affection. I can't take it. I won't be able to take it," his broad shoulders shook with his cries, his lips curved upwards nonetheless.
She shook her head okay once again.
It's okay.
But the glass broke ultimately.
His loudest sob wretched from his throat.
His form curled near her lap, fists grasping the cotton fabric of her dress. His throat seared with pain, ears rung with his own screams and his chest shook rapidly.
"I don't want to... I don't want to leave you this way..." his salty tears drenched a part of her birthday dress, the fabric crumbling in his hand's grasp.
"But you have to," she gently pet his hair, eyes averting to the moon, the last tear springing in the corner of her left eye.
He held on to her, as dearly as possible because it was the last time.
The last time for them.
It wasn't the end yet but to them, it was the conclusion, the end just around the corner and it wouldn't come long after.
But it was fine.
Because it was fun while it lasted.
After minutes of sobbing into her frame, Sam ultimately managed to pull himself together enough to stand up gruffly, not forgetting to take their guitar with him.
The plectrum with her initial inscribed on it, remaining still in her hands.
A piece of their memory with each of then.
It'll be fine.
He flashed her a feeble smile, his eyes puffed up and bloodshot from the crying, trails of his dried tears visible due to the reflection of the moonlight,
"Bye then."
His departure was quick for he still had a lot of wailing to do but not in front of her. Leaving her to the company of the sky which felt as empty as ever.
• • •
Knock knock !
Ray cursed under his breath, setting down his cup of coffee beside his university textbooks. He was simply trying to get over with his assignments to avoid his brain from going back to Y/n over and over again.
It was her nineteenth birthday, merely an year left for her to greet death's door.
Lord had it taken a toll on him, provoking him to prison himself in his room all day, only delivering his gift for her in front of her room's doorstep.
It had affected everyone for that matter, none of them able to look the woman in her eyes.
He stood up, pushing his chair back with an unpleasant screech as he lazily trudged towards the door, twisting the knob to pull it open.
His eyes expanded considerably when he was met with Sam's head hung, the grasp on his guitar so puny that he was afraid it would fall any moment.
Needless to say, he appeared seriously messed up.
The guitar; it was the one he would always play with Y/n, no one otherwise. And Ray knew that.
But he didn't want to go over the possibilities.
No matter how sharp witted he may be, he couldn't take anymore of this disaster either.
"Sam? What happened?" Ray attempted to hide the obvious concern in his voice, taking a cautious step towards the male.
He only saw him shake his head faintly, walking past him to enter his room. Ray's eyebrows involuntarily furrowed together as he sealed the door shut to find Sam flopping onto the bed as he spread his limbs facing the ceiling.
"Why aren't you in your room with Y/n?" Ray interrogated hesitantly, not finding the guts to face the truth despite knowing it on the inside.
Sam went quiet for a moment before replying emotionlessly, "I don't belong there anymore."
And the truth was rubbed right into Ray's face.
There was no escaping for him either.
Sam pulled up all the energy to send him a forced lopsided grin, "Take care of her, yeah?"
And before Ray got a chance to say a word, Sam was already asleep, the dizziness and exhaustion of all the crying finally taking over him.
• • •
Y/n's curled frame basked in the faint sun's rays that peaked from in between the curtains. She was lying on the left side of the bedside as usual, except the right side which had always been occupied by Sam was left vacant, his neatly folded blanket biding at the bottom.
Y/n's blanket was untidily placed on her built, leaving her limbs which were exposed to the cold to shiver in discomfort.
The click of the door sounded faintly, footsteps that appeared to be cautious of not waking the woman up resounded lowly. The right side of the bed dipped, the person careful not to press their entire weight at once.
Their fingers found their way to the blanket, adjusting it to cover her body properly. Gazing at her face, they could only release an inaudible sigh noticing how the ends of her eyes were fairly red, the shade lightening towards her cheekbones. Her lips were parted the tiniest bit, slow, uniform breaths escaping every once in a while. Eyelashes resting peacefully, they observed the crust that had accumulated near the tear ducts. The thatch of her unruly (h/c) tresses was straggled on the velvety silk surface of the pillow cover. The familiar scent of the mosturiser wafted in the air, combining with the scent of an expensive cologne, which was soon to be shifted somewhere else as far as the person knew.
Ray knew if someone were to walk in, he would definitely seem like a creepy pervert.
But that wasn't what was worth his care as of now, it was Y/n instead.
He leaned his head into the palm of his head, the other hand tucking strands of her locks behind her ear to get a clear view of her face. Bringing his head closer to hers, he lightly brushed his lips on her temple, the lines formed on it vanishing almost in an instant to the response to the warm stimulus.
Watching her stir in her sleep, he retreated a bit, his fingers now entangled in her barnet. Her eyelids fluttered open like that of a princess— or a queen if he would say, one waking from the exhaustion of managing crap that she very well knew of.
And a queen because she didn't need a king to be one.
Her field of vision was at first clouded with eye floaters, the dark shade of Ray's hair mixing with the warm tinges of the sunlight. In a few moments however, her pupils found focus, the unexpected encounter with Ray's face directly in front of her causing her to scrunch up her nose.
"What... are you doing here...?" she drawled out, her words spilling our groggily.
Seeing her pregnable state didn't fail to make his heart stutter, not once but twice. Even so he managed to take a hold of himself, raking his finger through the strands of her hair that had coiled up messily.
Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, he whispered in the same tone as hers, "I dunno..."
She allowed him to continue to run his fingers through her hair, which she assumed was greasy but didn't give a damn about as she turned to glance at the ceiling.
"Sam and I broke up..." she muttered, her own words making her stomach to form into a knot.
He shifted closer to her, sensing her body heat radiate off her, "I know..."
She was grateful that he had chosen to comfort her when he knew she needed it.
And the best thing about it was that she didn't even had to speak a single word or give out the subtlest of gesture for it.
No matter how strong Y/n might be, she always had her downs and obviously her own breaking points, one of which was this and Ray knew that very well.
"What's the time?" she questioned, tilting her head to peer at him.
He hummed, eyes landing on the digital clock that was placed on the night table.
"Quarter past seven, you can still sleep," he turned back to her, their unusual proximity making him aware of his speedy thumping heart, ready to thunder out of his chest.
She nodded, throwing the blanket over her shoulders and bringing her fists to her chest. Curling into a ball, her head didn't rest faraway from his chest, tempting him to down right cuddle her.
He remained still for some time, hanging on to the thin thread of self-restraint.
To an outsider, it would definitely seem low and pathetic for a girl to have a man comfort her after a break up or even have him be close to her. But the two knew better than that, especially since the point of view was awfully sexist.
"Ray, you know that you're very obvious, right?" she exhaled quietly, her breathing beginning to even once again.
Ray winced mentally on being caught, moving away from her awkwardly.
"Don't be such a pain..." she shot him a low intensity glare, too tired to lecture him anyway.
"You can... hug me..." she grumbled under her breath, pulling the covers over her face the next moment.
"... I don't want to hug you," he bit on his inner cheek, ears heating up unnoticeably.
"Liar."
Nibbling on his lower lip to keep himself from smiling, he gingerly shifted closer to her, putting an arm around her, which felt as light as a feather to her due to not even one-twentieth of his arm's weight being reposed.
"God, you are so annoying," she hissed lowly, stuffing her head into his chest to be welcomed by his whirlwind heartbeats.
It was uncommon for Ray to be this awkward or rather shy for the matter. But she didn't mind it, accepting it as a part of him.
One year.
A mere one year was all that they had.
To smile together, to shed tears, to laugh, to wail.
And they had mentally concurred to let it not go waste.
365 days, 8,760 hours, 525,600 minutes and 31,537,000 seconds.
The last year, the last chapter to her book.
The tale that was meant to be ended way sooner than deserved.
What fate had in store for her, was something they assumed they knew.
The joy and the melancholy they assumed was to come.
It was indeed fun while it lasted.
All of it.
• • •
1 year later...
The crunching of leaves sounded lightly with alternating footsteps. The wind blew gently, caressing his face ever so lightly. Fallen, dry leaves were scattered all over the grim ground, something pleasantly suprising for the man as he continued to stroll.
In one hand he held a bouquet of white, quilled blooms of Chrysanthemums, the shades mildly reminding him of the demeanor the person held, despite not knowing them for long.
The many graves were either decorated with flowers on top or left to be forgotten, the dust, dead leaves and blossoms resting still, accumulated together signifying that they hadn't been touched in a long time. He glanced around, reading the names inscribed on the stones, coming to a stop in front of a particular one.
Kneeling down, he gently arrayed down the bouquet, staring at the grave.
2007-2047
In the memory of
Euan L/n.
A loving father and husband.
A man of integrity and morality.
He stapled his hands together, eyes shutting as he silently prayed. Not long after, he stood up, dusting his pants off as he began to trudge further, once again scanning the names inscribed on the stones.
His steps came to a halt some time after, the grasp on the coloured parchment paper of the bouquet in his other hand tightening as he crouched down in front of the stone.
Orchid plants.
The soft colours contrasted well with the tiny parts of the comparatively darker ones, the tints together reminding him of the season spring and her, of course. That's why he got them in the first place. The flowers were known to symbolise sympathy and eternal love. Ray knew better than picking any other variety after all.
He couldn't entirely describe the emotions swirling inside him.
Misery? Guilt? Regret? Relief sorrow?
Or nothing at all?
He didn't know.
Because he felt completely empty without her.
Without her smile, her laugh, her warmth.
He drew in a shaky breath the moment his eyes rested on the stone. Her name engraved on it in the most beautiful manner ever.
2034-2054
In the memory of
Y/n L/n
A beautiful woman with the kindest of heart. The person with worth beyond explanation.
"You really had to leave, huh? I was waiting for a miracle to occur. Guess I was wrong," he chuckled airily, setting the flowers down gingerly.
Crossing his legs, he hummed for a while before beginning to speak, "Wonder what. Norman is planning to propose to Emma, and obviously Emma is as oblivious to it, just the usual," he rolled his eyes, shaking his head from side to side.
"Sam is doing... fine. Don and Gilda are doing great with their relationship. Nat is going to enroll in a national piano competition soon and he's quite determined. Anna on the other hand, is planning to go abroad for an internship," he propped his chin on his palm, "Mama is fine as well, the kids too. Turns out Barbara is a lesbian and she only recently asked the girl she liked out. Cislo is funky as ever," he laughed quietly under his breath, relaxing his posture a bit.
"How are you doing, though?" he queried, only earning the whistle of the wind in response.
For a while, he didn't say anything, still contemplating about his decisions until finally, the part of his brain that asked him to enforce it claimed victory in the end.
From the pocket of his trench coat, he fished out a gun.
Her gun.
He had found it in her room when it was being revamped. It was the gun back from the demon world, the one she had nearly used to shoot herself one night.
He cocked it, checking if it was loaded with the bullets.
He gazed at her stone, grinning wildly,
"Y/n... You have always been right. I am suicidal."
Pressing the muzzle of the gun against the side of his head, strands of his dark hair dishelving together.
He knew what he was doing.
He knew it very well.
"Last time I did it for Emma, Norman and You."
"But this time... I'm only doing it for us."
There was no way he was going to let her go.
Doesn't matter what the cost, be it his everything or his life.
But his everything was already gone.
He spared the grave one last glance, his finger ready to pull the trigger.
"Nothing can set us apart, not even death."
[ A/n: Guys, this isn't the end. 2 chapters to go, how are y'all feeling?]