Berceuse
By SMYGO4EVA
Shiki's hand is cold, like ice, but still very soothing over Rima's smaller one, and his fingers moving fluidly over her knuckles, almost offering some piece of consolation, though she still is listless and in great need of rest, although it was still the night.
"Rima-chan..."
His voice was…. strangely dull, not nearly as stoic and focused as he originally would be.
What was left of Shiki Senri was gone now, tarnished and rusting underneath what force had become of him.
He didn't say anything else after that.
For the rest of the time, he just sat there, watching over her, his usual silence slowly becoming more foreign to her more than ever.
Shiki had become a stranger in a strange world, a world that is unrecognizable to Rima's languid eyes.
Rima wasn't aware that as she was a blood-drinker, she still was not impervious to pain, inside and out.
All the light seemed to go out; as much as she tried to tell herself that she was indestructible, that no tears and no shed of crimson would mark her, the berceuse of sorrow and anguish would seize her, hold her tightly and never let her go.
He was going through the same thing.
Maybe that's why he didn't talk now, and why she didn't talk at this point,
They already knew what was to be said.
(A/N: A berceuse is a musical composition that resembles a lullaby.)