Summary: One has taken the last breaths of life, leaving behind a devastated soul with a broken heart and unfinished dreams💔
A/N: I am sorry I was in an Angsty mood today. I hurt myself bad when I was writing this, so advance apologies for the pain😭
If you enjoyed the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going💕
Pairing: Bryce Lahela X f!OC (Dr. Lydia Archambeau)
Word Count: around 1.1 K
Rating: General
Category: Angst
Triggers: Suicide, Major Character Death
Don't give up on that breath, they say.
This too shall pass, they say.
But when the burden of circumstances falls like a boulder on the little vermin, does it survive?
No, it doesn't.
She thought, hoped, implored, for a ray of hope, for a smile that could carry away the gloom of her distressed heart.
Yet, every morning, she rose to a soaked pillow and a strained heart.
People asked her to let go of the past, to live in the present.
But her antiquity, her present, and her eternity were stricken black with more tears and heartbreak, so she knew.
It's not that she didn't try to smile. She pushed herself to do it.
But the weights of episodes fastened to the edge of her lips didn't let them go up.
Those around her said she was too egocentric to open up to them. They never tried to look at her side of the tale. They did not bother.
But he did. More than he should.
Why did a guy like him try to make an insignificant girl like her, smile?
Why did he hold her hand when she grieved?
Why did he come speeding that day when the floor swayed underneath her, and she collapsed?
Was he too trying to fool her, deceive her?
Her mind urged her not to love someone again. Not after what she saw in her past. Not after the knife of deceit ripped her apart.
But she did fall before she could even realize, for that golden-eyed boy whose vicinity was like the hue of the golden sun at sunrise, who made her heart glow even if for a beat.
Yes, Lydia Archambeau fell for Bryce Lahela.
She loved him.
That kind of love which let her know of his presence before her senses.
That kind of love which was an anchor to her estranged soul in the riotous sea.
And hence she wanted to stop.
Stop and back up to the warmth of his arms, to the softness of his kisses, to the gentleness of his words and to the gold of his heart.
But the black hole of heartbreak, agony engulfed her, and there was no way to come back.
His kisses of one day, the day he held her in her arms, only if he realized that it was her last day.
The day they both tore the strands that pulled them apart and ran into their arms, that day when they finally put words to their emotions, was the only day of happiness their prayers had awarded them.
As she took one step and the other, he dozed soundly in his bed, dreaming of her in his arms, how he would tell her the next day how much he loved her.
If only there was a next day.
With each step, her tears blurred her vision. Her barren foot struck with nails and thorns, but her body couldn't feel the pain.
When the ultimate breath is seized, how does one feel? When the last straw is drawn, how does one feel?
That's how she felt.
One would ask, why did you give him one day of bliss, of empty hope, of an illusion of togetherness?
She knew what she would say.
Before her heart was shredded apart, she did not know what sorrow was. After her heart was ripped apart, she forgot what laughter was.
She lived in a contradiction, in a void of gloominess she had got so used to, that his golden beams of joy, optimism and love, burned her heart, made it painful to look at.
And she let herself burn.
Burn in his sunshine. In his chastity. In his love. And with her burnt her feelings, her emotions, the chains that held her.
She basked in his serenity, and now all that was left were the ashes and her blackness.
A corner of her mind knew she was wrong. It beckoned her to come back to his arms.
But it was too late. Too late.
As the frigid air of Boston's November blew the strands of her locks, as her eyes took in the climactic scene, Her heart beat for the last few times and her body took its last few breaths.
And then she fell.
Like her heart spiralled down the void of pain, her body sank into the ends of her worthless life.
The only word that escaped her dry, thin lips were to him.
Sorry.
The way he ran the next morning to her, like someone had snatched his life from him, and he had to get it back.
What was the use of living on without being able to hide in the shade of her hair, to drown in the fragrance of her presence, to get drunk in the harmony of her laughter?
They held him, stopped him.
How dare they?
Who were they to stop him from holding his life? Who were they to stop him from bringing her back to him? From scolding her not to kill him like that again? From kissing her until her distress had passed away?
He knew his eyes would give up on him. He wouldn't be able to hold the sight of her, drenched in scarlet. He felt that his life would give up on him before he could look at her like that.
He blasphemed himself, shouted, screamed, the tears falling like waterfalls of despair. His heart beat, but he couldn't sense life in him.
He was an inanimate corpse without her love.
Why didn't he stop her that day? Hold her through the twilight and keep her near to him? Hold her hand forever so that she could never go apart from him?
Why?
And as now she lay in the glass case, lifeless, his mind, his heart thought of nothing but her. That last day when they drowned in each other.
Why did he not understand? Why did he not hold her hand and kiss her until she would forget her heartbreak? Until the pain that took away her breath was defeated by the golden of his love?
Why did his life not come to a finish before having to see her like that today?
Why?
And as they place her down in the earth, all he can ask her, all he has to say,
Why did you go away? Was the power of my love not strong enough to hold you? Was the golden of my soul not enough to replace the black of your misery?
And suddenly, his soul was enveloped by the sensation of her presence, the perfume of her soul overwhelming his reasoning as gentle words her spirit spoke,
Your love is a seashell baby, and it will stay, for eternities to come by, crossing all the boundaries of the mortal life.
You and I are bound by a thread so powerful before which death withers.
You and I are meant to be for all times and ages.
We're meant to be.
PS: I am sorry if this makes no sense. My emotions were overwhelming me and I needed a way out. Anyway, thank you for reading and hope you have a great day ahead! Lots of Love💕
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Hey Neha, thank you so much for the questions lovely❤ (Answering for all the categories because I love talking about them🥺)
Pre Relationship
7. What would their lives be like if they had never met?
Bryce would have settled down for someone but no one would be able to love him like Ly. And Lydia would have just spiralled down into depression and live her life alone, cut off from the world😭
General
7. Who takes the lead in social situations?
Bryce because Lydia is an introvert and a closed off person who doesn't really enjoy interacting much. So to avoid her getting uncomfortable, he makes the conversations and let's her enjoy her solitude unless she wants to join in❤
8.Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?
Bryce again🤭 Lydia would probably die before doing that lol.
9.Who gets jealous easier?
Lydia, because of how many girls give heart eyes to Bryce. But she doesn't really need to worry because B has eyes on her and her only❤
Love
7.Who’s more protective?
Both are. Although Ly is not one to express feelings she will kill you if you even tried to hurt Bryce. And Bryce? You curse her or make Ly uncomfortable & you are dead.
8.Who’s better at comforting the other?
Ly is a gem when it comes to comforting while for pep talks, its Bryce
9.What are their favorite things to do together?
Watching the rain, trying out new beverages and B being a model for Ly's art❤
Domestic Life
7. How do they celebrate holidays?
They usually go out with friends or celebrate in a minimal manner with some food, decor and just each other. They tend to find happiness in little things and don't need anything extravagant to be happy💕
8.Who kills the bugs in the house?
Bryce. Lydia hates all kinds of insects. All of them.
9. Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?
Bryce because Lydia is a morning person and tends to wake up quite early. But when B asks her to stay in for a few minutes, she usually heed to his request
(I might have got the 7, 8, 9 order wrong for some questions, hope you don't mind)
