I do not own ANYTHING. Resident Evil belongs to Capcom and the song used for this songfic is by Evanescence.
My Immortal
I'm so tired of being here,
Suppressed by all my childish fear
Claire woke up from her sleep, soaking in her own sweat. It's that dream again, or rather, the memory that has been haunting her, gnawing at her subconscious, slowly eating away her sanity. It has been like so since the Rockfort Island incident. She couldn't understand why this particular incident preoccupied her mind more than the others. She was able to recover from the Raccoon City event without much trouble. Sure she had her fair shares of nightmares for at least a month, but this... this was different. She didn't know why. All she knew is there was something hindering her from forgetting the fear, the pain and the distraught that had caused her countless sleepless nights. At first the memory only haunted her when she was awake, but it seems even sleep could no longer offer her the solace she yearned for. Why did it bother her so much? Why did she feel afraid?
If you have to leave,
I wish that you would just leave.
Cause your presence still lingers here,
And it won't leave me alone.
She lied back on her bed, eyes wide open, while steadying her breathing, trying to calm herself down and push the memory back into the dark corner of her mind. The full moon outside the window illuminated her room with its soft glow, clothing it in tranquility. As much as Claire tried, the memory would not go away. Her mind kept playing back the confrontation she had with him like a broken record, torturing her soul and tugging at her heart. Despite hearing the news from her brother, she still couldn't let go of her feelings. He was finally dead, Claire thought to herself, but why does she feel like he's still here? As if his ghost is present in this very room?
These wounds won't seem to heal,
This pain is just too real,
There's just too much that time cannot erase.
She remembered how she was treated when they first both met. He had thrown her around like a rag doll, kicked her in the face, shoved her up on a wall, nearly yanking off her pony tail as he dragged her around with it. Yes, she remembered every bit of the ache he had caused. She remembered vividly how his boot felt when he stepped on her shoulder, taking pleasure as she squirmed and yelped in agony. But what she remembered the most out of the whole ordeal was the first time he had called her with such endearment. Dear Heart.
When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she grabbed a nearby pillow on her bed and buried her face in it. The room was filled with her muffled sobs, occasionally she would let out a frustrating shriek, contemplating to herself why she couldn't let go of him. She had initially thought that she despised the man, hated him to the depths of hell, but as time went by she started to question herself: is that the only emotion she has for him? Or is she fooling herself? If it were the former, she would've broken out the champagnes and celebrated his demise. But she didn't. Instead, here she lies, crying herself to sleep clinging onto the hope that tomorrow will be a better day. She swallowed hard, her throat dry from her incessant crying.
You used to captivate me by your resonating light
Now, I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me
Her thoughts returned to the memory of him. It's silly of her, to be so captivated by a man whom she barely knows. He was an enigma, to the world and herself included. Yet she could not deny the feelings she has for him, even though he had hurt her and those she loved. Countless innocent lives were abruptly ended because of him, and now that he's gone, she assumed that she was finally free from the mental prison he had created in her. But to her dismay, it only intensified the nightmares, the flashbacks. Her once dreamless nights of sleep were now bombarded with images of him, his smooth, velvet voice, cooing her, like a twisted lullaby she wished she didn't enjoy.
These wounds won't seem to heal,
This pain is just too real,
There's just too much that time cannot erase.
They said time can heal any scar, but to Claire, this is one scar that will remain, as if to remind her of the past. Another wave of sadness was stirring inside her.
I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me, I've been alone all along
The void she felt inside her could only be filled by one man, and that man is dead. She curled in a foetal position, clenching the pillow even tighter against her chest as the sudden realisation overwhelmed her.
When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me, me, me…
Streams of tears damped the pillow she held. Claire wished she could scream out her heart's contents, unfortunately, she can't, because she's in love with the Devil. She wished she had a hand to hold, to help her through this hell on earth, and she wished it was his blood-stained hands that would be there to catch her when she falls. But the man is dead, he has been for almost half a year now. Her eyes were blurry from the tears and she finally felt the welcoming sleep pulling her in.
xxx
Claire managed to cry herself to sleep after what seemed like an eternity. In the brink of her dream and reality, she could've sworn she felt someone pat her head lovingly. A gloved hand caressed her cheek and trailed down to the nape of her neck. She then felt thin lips, pressing themselves against her temple, leaving behind a lingering, warm sensation on the surface of her skin. Then there was none.
She awoke from her deep slumber the following day feeling much better than last night. She was glad of getting some rest after weeks of tossing and turning and barely getting a wink of sleep. Claire remembered the dream she had last night and thanked the heavens for finally giving her something less morbid to think about. She pushed her blanket aside and was about to get out of bed when she saw it lying on her nightstand. A black rose with a scarlet ribbon tied to its stalk, laid there exquisitely, as if it were on display in a museum. Trembling, her hands delicately held up the rose to her gaze. It was a Noir Rosa. The rose was said to be extinct, yet here it lies, in her hands. Attached to the ribbon was a small note. Heart pulsing, Claire flipped the note over to see what was written.
Forever my Dear Heart.
A tear drop fell from her eye as she held the rose close to her heart. Yes, she is his Dear Heart, forever.
A/N: Good? Bad? Cheesy? Cliche? Hope you enjoyed it, and forgive the funny rose's name, i suck at naming stuff. Review please? :)