Quick one-and-a-half hour piece, because I felt greatly inspired after my English essay exam. Whee!
Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Knight.
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.;"Suicidal";.
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He was so tired. Very, very tired. The black void pulled him in like a magnet, powerfully enticing him to drink in its inky blackness. And he felt compelled to do so; he was tired, he was weary, he was downright, bone-achingly willing to die, so why not?
Zero's body trembled with exhaustion. His legs had long buckled up under him, no longer able to support his weight. Only Yuuki, who was carefully cradling his head in her hands and his body across her thighs, stood between him and the floor now. She was crying, he thought. He couldn't be sure because he could hardly see anymore. But she was crying, yes. He could feel the moisture on his face.
Feebly he tried to reach up and cup her cheek. His traitorous arm refused to respond other than a faint straining of muscles, invisible under his skin. He continued trying anyway, because it was something better to do than just waiting to die.
He thought he heard Yuuki choking out his name. Once, twice; spoken with such raw anguish it tore his heart apart like how he had torn his body, without care and without mercy. He considered telling her he was fine, just to appease her.
It was a big fat lie, and the lousiest he would ever tell, but he was willing to give it a try.
So he forced his jaw to move, to utter the syllables that would put Yuuki's little heart to ease. It came out garbled; incoherent, laced with bloody froth around his bluing lips. It scared her more.
It wasn't his intention to make her cry. His plan was to die alone, alfresco deep in the snow-covered forest, hidden by skinny trees that measured no thicker than his thigh. She wasn't supposed to see this. No one was.
The plan was simple. He thought it was flawless – everyone would be having fun at the Christmas ball, amid jokes and laughter, too preoccupied to care about the absence of one Prefect. He would slip away into the forest, unseen, claw himself and die a simple death with them none the wiser.
It was the perfect plan.
Only he had forgotten to factor in a certain Cross---no, Kuran Yuuki, and her troublesome nature to sniff out problems that were not hers to solve.
She never told him how she found him like this, but he suspected it was the scent of his blood that drew her. Strange. He thought he was far enough to avoid being caught by something as stupid as his scent. Perhaps Yuuki was so perfectly attuned to him, so well that she could smell him no matter how far he went.
It pained him to smile, so he smiled in his mind instead. That was a nice thought.
His chest throbbed as his heart pumped out blood to replenish the copious amounts he had lost. It was futile – the snow soaked it up greedily like a carnivorous white sponge. Pain was the only thing it offered.
Not that he minded. He couldn't bring himself to care. He knew his life was slipping away despite Yuuki's desperate efforts, and whatever expressions of pain he might have uttered were lost when he ripped his throat open with the claws of a ferocious beast. Violet eyes, dull and without luster, rolled back in his head.
If he concentrated really hard, he could almost hear the sound of his own ragged breathing, harsh and laboured, against Yuuki's incessant crying. That was no good. He needed her to stop so that he could pass over in peace; he didn't want her on his conscience in the afterlife.
At least, that was what he told himself, but he believed he just didn't want to see her cry.
Zero sighed soundlessly – his breath escaped him, flying on puffy wings into the snowy forest. His chest caved in some more, expelling globs of sluggish red blood with each heartbeat. It's useless to try, he wanted to tell Yuuki. Don't save me; I want to die.
Yet she ignored him, tearfully telling him to continue breathing as her hair flew in messy wisps around her pretty face. She wanted him to live. To live, not to die. It was ironic; laughable, even, that she valued his life more than he ever did. Apparently this trash was still of some value to the queen.
It was touching, yes, but he was not worth salvaging. The sorry remnants of life in his body would fade soon and he would become nothing more than a pile of white ash against equally white – if not more pristine – snow, undetectable and unnoticeable. That was his wish.
Because if it was a choice between his life and hers, he'd choose Yuuki's any day. That was why he existed; as a sacrificial piece in this crazy chess game of life, wielding the power of a knight but eternally unable to ascend to kingship. He wasn't supposed to snatch the queen.
Yuuki removed her hands from behind his head. He missed the mitten-induced warmth keenly – it was nice while it lasted. His head felt heavier than ever; it lolled past her thighs, letting silver locks blend in with the snow. Already the tips of his fingers and toes felt as if they had congealed like old food to a plate, frozen and unresponsive, quite dead. Good…the process was in motion.
He breathed out and closed his eyes. He would be joining Ichiru soon. That was good, too…he missed his twin. The deadness crept up to his elbows and knees. Faint splintering sounds could be heard as his appendages cracked and broke like glass.
It is beautiful, he reflected dully. Like bells, but more ethereal. He'd rather concentrate on that than on Yuuki's sobbing. That one hurt more than his body – he felt no more pain from his human husk, anyway.
He also heard Yuuki's horrified cry when she saw what was happening, but he tuned that out after a struggle. His eyes couldn't flicker anymore and he gave up trying to open them, to gaze at Yuuki and convey, it's all right, Yuuki. It's all right.
He wanted this. Nothing should interfere with his impending death; he doubted he had enough resolve left to try again if he failed.
The ripping sound was but a distant hum in his ears. The drip, drip rhythm that followed didn't faze him either. He did mind, however, when someone took hold of his jaw and eased them open, allowing something deliciously thick, smooth and rich to fill his mouth. He recognised the taste he was assaulted with at once.
Blood – Yuuki's. The idiot was still trying to save him.
Feeling thankful for the inactivity of his eyes, he forced his head a fraction to the side, so that the blood dripped onto his cheek rather than into his mouth. He refused to accept such a sacred offering. Yuuki's blood could not afford to be spilt at his expense any longer.
Hence his infuriation when she pulled his head back and let her blood drip again, her free hand gently coaxing his lacerated throat to work and swallow. The onslaught of pain renewed again, but this time of a different, more tortuous kind – bloodlust.
He could barely believe that he could still find it in him to lust, even in his condition. His body wanted the death of his wish. Traitor, he spat. Betrayer!
Finally his throat could not stand her massaging any longer. Muscles convulsed as they worked against the will of the mind, yearning to down the delicious liquid that poured in abundance into his mouth.
Stupid Yuuki, he found himself thinking even as the white world tilted on its axis. So many times she had fed him, and still she did not know the adequate amount he could take. This was too much, far too much; she would die of blood loss at this rate.
Zero gurgled. The first mouthful of blood slithered down his parched throat, but it offered no relief. His fangs did not sprout. With a weak thrill of exhilaration, he realised that he had caused his body enough damage to shut down his vampire instincts.
Feeling pleased, he turned his head again, ready to refuse.
He supposed he could take some consolation in the fact that her blood never reached his digestion system, either. It ran out of his torn trachea, mixing with his own impure blood, before reaching Yuuki's stained blouse. It was probably a pretty sight to see.
Yuuki never noticed that her blood had, for once, no effect on him. He let her be, allowing her to live in her fantasy. At least with this pretence she wouldn't think it was her fault he died.
He wanted this. He really did.
Why, then, was his vision becoming sharper? Was it a figment of his demented imagination?
Ah, having insecurity as his best friend sucked indeed.
"Zero," Yuuki sobbed. "Zero. Don't die, please!"
I want to, Yuuki, he said in his mind. And he briefly wondered at the loss of the chill in his limbs. Had it encompassed his entire body already? Was his face laced with fine breaks, like cracks on paper-thin ice?
He hoped so.
"Don't die." Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
"I won't," he rasped to console her, though his breath whooshed out of his torn throat before it passed his voice box. His voice whined a syllable or two before falling silent.
Stupid, Zero grumbled. Useless. So, using the last ounces of his strength, he forced the corners of his mouth to rise, mimicking a smile.
I…won't…. The unspoken words echoed in the air.
But he fell asleep anyway.
Umm. Don't kill me, please? Go on, press that brand new Review button – I know you want to test it!
I'll be trying the Epic Fanfiction Contest on deviantART; writing for Vampire Knight, of course. Who's game? Hehe.