The Fault in Dying
She was weak and pale. Her eyelashes fluttered as she glanced about the room. He was there. He had been there for a long time. Their hands were clasped tightly on the edge of their bed as the silence engulfed and over-powered them.
He removed the hot cloth from a bowl nearby.
"No," she offered him a faint smile. "I'm warm. I'm comfortable."
His jaw tightened. "All right, Yuè Rú."
She squeezed his hand reassuringly. No words of comfort were offered. No promises were made. If there was any malice in her, it was concealed entirely.
He returned the gesture feebly. The lines on his forehead were as pronounced as the devastating scars of earthquakes. His shoulders were slumped under the weight of a million grievous, prolonged lives. Dark shadows hung from under his eyes. He had yet to gain smile lines.
"I love you," she spoke in sighing. "I love you."
He nodded, raising her hand and kissing her knuckles. "I love you too."
In that moment, the thought of death, his ever constant companion, reaching to another of his beloved, he felt his stomach tighten and churn and twist and the rawness of his agony burst forth now without the haze of his calabash bottle in hand with its sweet nectar of alcohol.
Author's Note: I do love these two. That surprises a lot of people. I think they are an amazing couple. It is the television series that I have issue with. I want her removed from that all together. I struggle to find a preference in the game. This tale is an utter tragedy: her second death. I have no information on how she died. Thus, I am writing as I go. I am writing as a fan of this pairing, as a lover of this game. I hope that I can do them all justice.