A/N's: Spoilers for the Acid Tokyo arc are contained within. Angsty Sakura and the dynamic the whole clone/real Syaoran bring make their whole relationship that much more yummy.
Disclaimer: The girls of CLAMP own everything that matters, not me.
Held Tightly
There's blood everywhere and the water's drying up. Her dress is stained dark with the people she cares about and no matter how many times she wipes her hands on the smudges, the smell still hits her just as clear.
There's confusion all around her, angry shouts and broken screams. She feels the seconds slipping quickly through her fingers and the movements blur, too fast. She's aware of her own voice joining the chorus, loud and clear and still not getting through, the taste of salt chokes her mouth and she sputters and spits.
Her skin is cold and she's unable to do anything but watch as the horror unfolds… she's nauseous somewhere in the back of her mind and her throat is burning fast, there's an ache in her bones but she's so tired of sleeping…
…and her freedom from it has never tasted so bitter.
He is looking at her, she is watching him back, and it does not matter that her vision is doubled. This is Syaoran-kun and that is what she knows. And she can't quite stop the tremor that shakes through to her hands and she is unable to keep back that beat of fear that widens her eyes and thrums along in time to her heart. The feather is tight in his grip and she's never seen a piece of her memory as tainted and black.
His clothes are tattered and coloured crimson and her fingers stick together as she presses against his chest. His eye is blue, and deep within her there's a chord of familiarity, but when she blinks, it's too far from sight and right now, she can't decipher the truth.
Silence surrounds her and there remains only them.
This is Syaoran-kun surrounded by blood, little his own. This is Syaoran-kun supporting her and collecting her feathers, and she is heavy with guilt as the feather sinks into her lightly and pulls at her tightly, wishing to whisk her away into memories that have little importance faced with what she will lose.
Her Syaoran-kun.
She can resist it, she thinks, and with what little strength remains reaches out, his name on her lips and the tears never ending. She's never been that strong - her grip slips - but it's never seemed to matter. Until now at least, when it is much too late.
So she falls, he leaves, and the sound of her heart shattering is silence to his ears.
Her sleep has never seemed so fruitless.
End.
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