AN: This is one of my older fics. I realize the mistakes so there really isn't much need to point out the mistakes, I've been looking at them for like five months now. But I digress, tell me what you think.
Time stopped.
Blake stood toe to toe with the person she once called her mentor, her breath ragged and mouth agape. The cold, unfeeling metal that cut through her abdomen had left her feeling numb and confused. Blood bubbled up in her throat, spilling over her lips, and contrasting against her pale skin.
She could hear the agonizing scream from her partner echo in hear head, stabbing her skull like knives. She wanted to speak as she and Adam traded looks. He seemed like it didn't faze him in the slightest and he ripped his sword from her gut with a sickening, wet sound, and escaped.
With the jerk of the sword, Blake was snapped back into reality, and when that cold metal was gone, it was as if every nerve was lit on fire. She felt her knees start to buckle, and off in a growing distance, she could hear several explosions until she was suddenly caught before she could hit the ground. Who was this again? Yin? No… Yang. Yeah, it was Yang. Blake liked Yang. She liked Yang a lot.
Deep inside her, It could feel Blake starting to go under, trying everything in its' limited power to keep her and itself alive. However, the wound had been fatal. It was too late to save her.
Blake heard Yang's voice, but it seemed so far away even though she was barely a foot from her face, screaming her name and some other indiscernible words. She tried to focus on them and try to refocus her wavering vision, but waves of pain that were crashing over her were distracting her, keeping her in a loop of pain as she tensed up from each wave.
There were distant usherings from the blonde beauty holding her, telling Blake to not move. Even out of focus, it was obvious she was crying. Her shoulders were shaking, and Blake could feel teardrops soaking into her clothes and landing on her skin. She wanted to speak, she wanted to tell her to not cry, but she couldn't. It was like she forgot how. Cold started to spread from the tips of her fingers and toes. She was running out of time.
Blake lifted up a hand. It was limp, she managed the best he could with half-lidded eyes and numb senses. Through blurred vision, she found Yang's face, and pressed a couple fingers to her lips, stopping her yelling. It doesn't matter how loud she yelled. She couldn't hear anything except for the daunting sounds of her own heart slowing down.
Blake felt a few of her own tears slip from her eyes. She paused for a moment, trying to remember how to move her hand the way she wanted to. It was so hard to keep fighting; she knew she was losing, but she didn't have the current mental capacity to focus on it. It was just simple fact.
Blake was too tired to keep her eyes open any longer, so they closed, but she was still hanging on just long enough to try and say goodbye. She tried focusing on Yang, pulling up a mental picture, seeing where her hand was placed and tried moving it. She had no idea if she was actually moving it or not, so she had to rely on faith and faith alone.
When she felt that her hand was just behind Yang's nape of her neck, she worked on trying to pull her down. Again, she wasn't sure if it worked until she felt Yang's lips press against hers. She wanted to smile, to tell her how much she loved her and thank her for everything she's done, but she couldn't. So, she put every last bit of energy she had into the kiss. And she realized, for the first time It didn't interrupt. It didn't stir or threaten her. It was gone. It was only her and Yang and it was the only time in her life she truly at peace. She was glad her last breath was spent breathing it into the person who made her the happiest person in the world. But then, in that moment, she couldn't think, and she couldn't feel. She was gone.
