what if………. he wasn’t joking………
Peking Duck’s smile was brittle as glass set to shatter - fine cracks spreading, at first gossamer-thin before widening into cavernous crevasses - breaking little by little, slowly yet surely. The plastic smile tugged at the corners of his lips, cheaply made - a pale imitation of his typically gentle countenance.
If eyes were windows to the soul, his were drawn and shuttered - no light shone from them. They held little mirth as rain poured down, trailing rivulets down his face upturned to the sky. One of his eyes was already red as the blood that seeped through his once immaculate changshan, glistening with tears - one of the first and most obvious signs that he was turning into a Fallen Angel. When he spoke, his voice - usually languid and mellow as a contented cat - held a note of mounting hysteria, broken by a fit of laughter to a joke he wished Fate hadn’t taken so seriously. Fate could be such a cruel mistress indeed; it was a fact he knew firsthand. He had been wondering how long he could live almost happily before it dragged him down to the depths of despair once more. It had been fun, living in bliss, even if it had been a time cut far shorter than he would have liked.
He wished he could enjoy that precious time together, smiling at the antics of the other food souls as his children quacked cheerily from where they were cradled in the folds of his sleeves. He had saved them; their mother had been long gone - he suspected from a hunter, as the ducklings had been alone for some time. He hadn’t wanted to interfere with the course of nature, but he could not leave them to starve, either - those button-black eyes and dandelion-hued down melted his admittedly already softened resolve. They had been sickly; perhaps even starving - so he nursed them back to health. Slowly yet surely, they came to know him as their second guardian.
In a way, they had saved each other. Back then, life had been bleak; it almost seemed pitiful that those little ducklings were one of the few things he looked forwards to. But to him…it had been enough. More than enough.
Oh, how he needed saving now - for someone to send down an angel with eyes ablaze and wings spread wide, absolving him of sin. But in his world, there were no angels but the Fallen: of deep red eyes and jars of wine, spiked conch shells and a constant pang of hunger. But were they so different? Hadn’t they once been one and the same? The thought brought little comfort to him now, though; all he felt was a creeping fear, a chill that sent shivers down his spine. His shoulders shook, but it wasn’t from laughter; no, it looked something like heartbreak - something like dizzying pain - ah, there was the blood loss, but it seemed like he was healing at an abnormally fast rate…? He did not want to consider why - no, no, no, this couldn’t be happening - he wanted to stay by the Master Attendant’s side, always. Always, always, always…. He stood, clutching at his head to clear the haze clouding his turbulent thoughts, shivering from not just the cold but perhaps a primal instinct - coiling like a viper provoked, unfurling down his spine. “Master Attendant…” The words slipped clumsily from his lips, a stark contrast to the cool eloquence he typically displayed; yet he had little care for such decorum here and now - he had to..as much as he didn’t want to admit it… He had to…say a proper goodbye. He knelt before his Master Attendant, uncaring that he was becoming steadily more soaked by the cascade of relentless rain and kissed their hand - gently, like the barest flutter of a butterfly’s wings. Tenderly, even as they both trembled like leaves in the wind. “Please… get away from me. Before I…. do something I may regret.” He rose to his feet unsteadily - Master Attendant reached to steady him, but he turned their kind gesture away, as if afraid to infect them with his touch. Master Attendant had always treated him well, even after seeing who he truly was - standing firm and not backing down an inch.
“Running away?” They had asked him incredulously, as if the thought were too outlandish to consider seriously, “Listen here, and listen well. I’m not going anywhere, alright?”
Master Attendant, of course, didn’t condone his sins - but they didn’t condemn him for them, either. They accepted him for who he was, and wanted to help him be better than that - to help him search for a sense of forgiveness in spite of it all. It was something he couldn’t take back, he had thought bitterly, but Master Attendant had taught him that he could learn to live with - and would have to. To look towards the future and strive towards being better..
Speaking of the future…he couldn’t leave his children all alone, could he? Ah… the children - his children - were quacking mournfully at him, crowded around Master Attendant’s feet - who was cautiously gathering them in their arms, delicately avoiding stepping on them.
But now, the ducklings dare not approach him, the man had tenderly cared for them. It was as if they could sense the shadow of sin within him, twisting and tainting his soul. “Take care of the children,” he calls to his dear Master Attendant, the one who had advised and cared for him. The person who he had shared laughter and tears in equal measure with, the person who his children loved like one of their own. There is a note of desperation in his voice, and the regret seems to wash over him, crashing like a wave so that he is drowning within its abyssal, lightless depths. “My apologies, Master Attendant…it seems as if this is the end of our journey together.”
Goodbye had never tasted more bittersweet.
This was a great read!! Thank you ;___;
In other news someone pLEASE HOLD ME,,
