strrive-deactivated20140202 ;   "Don’t let me die"

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         _{Gruesome things had a tendency to be horrifying things. Horrible and awful things that would forever be scarred into someone’s mind, never able to truly leave their thoughts. Surely there were things that could dull it, dim it, make it begin to fade, but just as many scars they would never fully go away, would never leave permanently. A part of that person, as much a part of them as their personality or their likes and their dislikes, were events that scarred them for life.}

         _{So much—there was so much blood that the air was permeated with the smell, so much blood that it was everywhere. People oftentimes liked to say that blood smelled like copper but it did not smell of copper—no, blood smelt of blood, thick and red and bright and full of life, until it bled from skin and soiled the ground and stained fabric and just painted everything.}

                           _{Such beauty.}

                                             _{Such twisted, horrible beauty.}

         _{Finding him had not been hard, tracking him down to this place, this barren place and seemed to have no life in it, that did not breathe even the faintest whisper. Instead it was darkness, so much darkness all around, that no life could flourish there except that that was made up of darkness with no room for light inside, and within it he was a beacon. A beacon that drew her closer and closer, made panicked breaths leave her lungs and her head spin as she fell to her knees besides him.}

         _{Blood stained her shoes, her skin, doubtlessly it would get on her dress. Oh he had moved, he had moved despite being so injured and hurt, practically gutted as something—anything, she had no idea what, she did not care what—had cut his stomach open, torn his clothing and she was not sure if he had vanquished the creature or if it still lurked, lingered, but she did not care. Instead she only cared for him, for his weak form as she pulled his head into her lap and fought back tears that threatened to fall.}

_{”Don’t let me die.”}

         _{Voice so weak… so fragile… so soft and broken and so unlike him that she nearly let a sob escape but choked on it instead, fingers fretting over his injury but there was nothing that she could do, nothing. Absolutely… nothing.}

                                    _{She was u s e l e s s.}

                  _{Still she ran her fingers shakily through his hair, accidentally getting blood in it but there already had been a little bit—the red look wrong, against his silver. But she touched his hair reverently, his face and his neck and his shoulders as she smiled shakily, tracing the line of his jaw and cupping his cheekbone, leaning over to press her lips against his forehead and she breathed him in. She breathed him in slowly and steadily, even as her hair started to stand up on the back of her neck and she could hear something moving.}

                                                      _{”I would never let you die.}

                                                               _{Help is on the way, I promise.”}

         _{Never would she dream of letting him die on his own—no, Riku was too precious to her. He was too important and too kind to her and he had done so many things for her, things that she could never repay him for. This was the young man who made her feel things she hadn’t even known she could feel, who was something indescribable to her, and she could not allow him to die, not there. Not there in that dark place without the people most dear to him.}

                           _{The moment she entered there she knew only one of them was leaving.}

                                    _{And she never intended it to be herself.}

                                            _{In the end she was just too selfish.}

                                                                        _{”I love you, Riku.”}