Little droplets of water were falling from the thick, grey quilt of clouds above in a steady pace, never seeming to halt. It almost looked like the sky was crying. Maybe it was. And so was Deidara.
The boy was leaning against the trunk of a large oak; pale and washed out from exhaustion, golden hair matted to his face, courtesy of the rain. He attempted to reach out and wipe them away, but had no strength for that. His eyes couldn't stay open for much longer and the raindrops that dripped onto his face were slowly melding into his own tears and blood.
Breathing was laborious. His whole body was stained with blood, with more gushing out of his wounds continuously. Every part of him was aching terribly. His body was probably going to give in at any moment, it was losing itself to pain.
Still, he didn't want to die yet. He couldn't succumb to his agony just yet. He just stared into the rain with glassy eyes, into the distance, waiting. Deidara was waiting for him. Awaiting the redhead who, ironically, hated waiting and making others wait. Even though the blonde wanted to see him once more, it was only a matter of short time that his eyes wouldn't be able to support his gaze anymore. But he couldn't collapse yet. He was so important to him, and he wanted to see him for just once before his death.
His eyes were slowly starting to droop close, but he still fought back, and managed to see a faint figure of the boy he had been waiting for so long. His name silently escaped from Deidara's lips, so faintly they both could barely hear it. The blonde began coughing up blood and his heavy-grown lids shut at the very moment. He wasn't able to see anything anymore, but felt something move closer to him.
"Deidara."
The voice was low, calm and stern without much emotion; exactly the way he remembered it. He let it ring in his ears for a while, for he couldn't answer it anyway. He wanted to open his eyes and look at the caller, but he didn't have strength for any movement now. And Deidara knew that he would never open them again.
"You can't go."
He couldn't respond.
"You can't go; I don't want you to. Stay."
Sasori gripped the blonde's hand, holding onto it like he was going to drift away the second his hand would be released.
A faint smile crept up Deidara's face. He had been waiting for such a long time. And now he had finally come to him. His own danna, Sasori. He wanted to see him. To look into his hazel eyes, stroke his crimson hair, touch his lips and kiss them. But he knew that everything he desired would just stay as a dream. It would not happen. Ever.