@chxra -- using this ( WARNING : ANGST AHEAD! )
–— How she managed to survive for all these years, she knew not. Once she would have considered herself unlucky to have lived so long, being one who had no real purpose to live ;; but with her longevity came a reward in the form of a male with brightly dyed hair. Now, she lived for him, to stay by his side, and she did everything she could to keep both of them alive. A long life was guaranteed for her as long as she was careful, but Chara? Well ... she'd rather not think about it. Most times she wished their occupations didn't require them to risk their lives. But then there were times like these, the first elimination mission they were assigned together, where she appreciated their line of work. They worked well together, both in and out of combat, something that made her happy despite the occupational hazard. And it was that chemistry that brought the two together.
The very next morning she spent with a smile on her lips, her heart thudding pleasantly in her chest as she walked hand in hand with him on their date. A few chuckles exchanged, a gentle squeeze of a hand, meaningful glances between one another. It was a moment where you would never expect anything to go wrong, where you hoped nothing would go wrong.
..........Wishful thinking.
It came quickly, much too quickly. She has been shot before -- she has the scars to prove it -- but they were always in places where she could recover. Her bicep, her calf, the abdomen, a graze on her neck. But never in the head. It was painless, eerily so. A distinct pressure in her forehead, a sharp ringing in her ears as her legs gave out from under her. She thought she heard Chara scream her name but the ringing was so damn loud.
She felt herself moving, but she couldn't move, could barely think. All she could do was stare up. Up at what, though? Her vision blurred and blacked out completely before returning again and blinding her with the muddled mix of colors. Red. She saw red. The bright scarlet of his hair. Was he moving her? She didn't know. She tried to ask, to speak to him, but her tongue felt so heavy to move and her lips could barely touch. And ... what was that scent? It was so familiar, but she couldn't remember it. This rusty, metallic scent that reminded her of aging coin. It was ... it was ... blood. Whose blood was it? Again, she tried to ask Chara what was happening but her body would not let her. All she could do was hang uselessly in his arms and stare at him, feeling some comfort in the bright red of his hair.
She felt so ... so heavy ... and sluggish ... and weak and ... cold? Yes ... so very cold. Even with the warmth of Chara flush at her side, she felt ice in her veins. With this ice came a fatigue so great, much greater than all those times which she pushed herself to pure exhaustion. Was she ... dying? NO!! Her heart thumped loudly at the thought, lids snapping open for a moment as a quiet moan slipped past her lips. She couldn't die now. Not now. Not when she had just begun being happy again. But she couldn't deny the cold in her bones or the heaviness in her lids : she was dying. In his arms, she was dying.
Her mind cursed her body for not being able to move, not being able to speak. She wanted to scream out in frustration, to claw viciously at death's hands. But more than that, she wanted to do something for Chara before she died. Give him one last kiss, a hug goodbye, a gentle squeeze of a hand. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, that she'll always love him. That she was sorry that she couldn't live longer for him. But all she could do was stare up at him, with tears slowly brimming in her eyes.
The only comfort she had was the feeling of being in his arms. And after years of unshed tears, a single tear fell when her eyes permanently closed.
