THINGS JUST FALL APART | SELF-PARA
mentions: @junhorhee @charlotteoh @zehraxaydin
Despite everything that's been going on, Efe didn't close Deadlights, he didn't change a single thing about his routine, too stubborn to do so. He refused to give a drop of satisfaction to the murderers, his thought process leading him to believe it was exactly what they wanted. To instill fear in everyone, to hurt them both physically and psychologically.
He woke up, went on a run, got himself a coffee, did a few errands he's been avoiding, made a stop when he passed through the hospital to have lunch with Jun, and then he went home. He continued working, something he always did too much of, until it was time to head to Deadlights. Ever since they found the second body he made sure to be the first in and last out. Often he let the staff leave a little early or made them wait until he could drive them home. He told himself it wasn't that he cared as much, it's just hard to find new people willing to put up with their regulars, but truth was he did care about people's well being even if the wall he put up didn't show it. Those who needed to know it already did, with or without him proclaiming it.
It was a normal night, the usual patrons were hanging around the place, the flow steady as people were slowly coming out of their hiding spots again. But he can't blame them, the idea of hunting season commencing and them being on the menu was enough to scare people and it was no surprise how a lot of them avoided the outside world, though he was a strong believer it didn't matter where you were. If those people wanted you dead there was no way out of it.
It was getting late, a few of the clients were showing no sign of leaving any time soon and with the recent acceleration of death he was considerate and sent his staff home. It was just two tables and one drunk sat at the bar, he can handle it. Besides every so often he did work at his own bar, especially when it was busy and they were understaffed. He might tell you he doesn't like it when he has to do it, but secretly he enjoyed it. Especially after his engagement broke off and he wanted to busy himself with anything but thoughts of Zehra.
And when it came to her - he was still confused. He knew that he loved her, if he didn't he definitely wouldn't act the way he did at the music fest or visit her when he knew Dante and Sawyer meant something to her. But he was hurt, hurt in a way he can't describe nor deal with. And he needs to deal with. He has to either forget about her or find a way in his heart to forgive her. What they had was once special, maybe there was a way to go back to it. No. Create something new that was just as good or even better. But what if it was his fault she felt insecure in the relationship. What if it's her that doesn't want him anymore. Too many what ifs and what could of beens were spinning in his mind as he bid his goodbye to the last customer of the night.
He spent a while in his office, signing what papers needed to be signed and placing an order for anything they were running low on. He cleaned up the front, putting away everything and wiping the last two tables. He made progress in the last few months, yes he did work till ungodly hours, but at least when he was done he actually went home. With the keys both for Deadlights and his bike and his backpack on his back he made his way out locking up the place. He turned around to make his way to his bike, but a few steps later he stumbled into someone, "Sorry, if you're looking for a drink I'd suggest Medusa. We're done for the night."
With no response in return Efe mumbled an alright and stepped to move, but a burning and stinging feeling in his stomach stopped him in his tracks. He's never felt something like that before and when his eyes went to look down he saw what he could assume was the handle of a knife and a hand holding onto it. He went to grab onto the person, but the way they twisted the blade inside him had him wincing and hunching over as his brain tried to register what was happening to him. He gathered up strength and moved forward which was a mistake as they pulled the knife away and lodged it in a different spot, they did it again and again. Efe's face paling by the minute as his blood seeped out, he stumbled forward grabbing onto the person as he fell to his knees. "Why are you doing this?" his head slowly moved up, looking for the smallest detail that could pinpoint him to who the perpetrator is, but there was nothing, his vision was already starting to blur and he could barely make out anything as he tried his hardest to focus.
They leaned down and Efe thought they were going to say something, but he was met with more stab wounds, each hurting worse than the last. He felt himself becoming lighter, the blood loss making his ears ring, he blinked slowly his eyelids heavy - this was it, this is how he's going to leave this world.
His mind in a desperate attempt to help allowed him to think of the people he loved, people so close to him and people he didn't want to see hurt by his death, but alas it was inevitable. Even if someone shows up with this amount of wounds there was no saving him.
He thought about Junho, his closest friend. Someone he's confined in so many times, someone who helped him in more ways than Efe would admit, but Jun knew. The ways they were there for each other showed how much Efe really cared and he was thankful he saw him earlier today, though it was never going to be enough. He just hopes his death won't take that much of a toll on him, maybe it'll finally push him to deal with his own feelings about Charlotte. Open his eyes before it's too late for them like it was for him now. And when it came to her, Efe was the worst friend there is, but he can't change the past. He can only hope she won't allow what they did to ruin something special. And he hopes they'll both find some comfort in each other and forget about him, because he doesn't want to be mourned. He wants them to live for him instead.
And then the most beautiful silhouette appeared before him - Zehra. He knew he was coming closer to his death, he knew it wasn't her before him, but if that's the last thing his mind pictures then he'd die a happy man. Once she meant the world to him, once he would of given everything for her and now his biggest regret was that he didn't follow her. He should of went after her the second she went away, he should of fought harder. And he still loves her with everything in him, every fiber of his body ached to be with her right now. Maybe if he wasn't so stubborn he would of been home with her, sitting on the couch entangled in one another as they each share how their day went, but he was on the cold ground, blood seeping from his body and mouth. He hopes she finds someone special, even if he hates the mere idea of it, but she deserves happiness and he wants someone to give it to her even if it's not him. Instead all he'd bring is pain, because he was again too stubborn to change his routine, to close Deadlights, to stay home. He just hopes she knows just how much he loved her once, and just how much he loves her to this day.
The strong pull of his hair had his eyes focus on the face before him, too out of it to put a name behind it. He opened his mouth to speak, but before a word could move past his lips, the cold and sharp metal of the knife slid across his neck, blood seeping from the open wound. They pushed him to the ground and without any strength left inside him, he fell on his back, his eyes watching over the sky as the pain slowly started to fade and he knew this is his last night on Earth.
All alone on the hard cold ground he met his end.
