Sequel to "The Aftermath of Losing." After Dhampir72 encouraged me to write more for that, I kind of got inspired and by the way this format of writing is super fun. I want to post something before my exams kicked in, which is VERY soon may I add. I don't own anything. This is RA.
XXX
The Aftermath of Finding
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004
I lost you.
And then I found you.
I wished I never found you.
You, you, you, my life was always about you.
How can you just forget all about me.
How could your world not revolve around me when mine's did around you.
He stared into a field of long yellow green grass that danced to the tempo of the wind. His jacket whipped around his frame, the black and white, so plain against the colors of the world.
A flash of red.
008
Leaning down he laid a kiss to his eye lids.
The room was silent; nothing could be heard except for the steady sounds of breathing. His chest fell up and down with every single breath he took in.
A prove that he was alive.
The door was closed after his figure. The teen on the bed sat up, still lost in between a blurred line of sleep and awake. He saw the door clicked as the lock snapped into place.
－Who was that?
He yawned as he brushed a strand of white from his face, wondering lightly.
005
The red head's mouth parted, a familiar voice sounded out.
－Who are you?
－Who. Am. I.
He repeated, his frame frozen in place as he stared, wide eyed at the red head that stood there with a calm expression on his face as a light breeze blew by.
His bright red hair ruffled at the breeze. The sky was so nice; a wondrous shade of light blue, no clouds what so ever. A tree stood in the distance, a lone tree that stood on its roots.
The long green grass shook to the temple of the wind; he could feel the light breeze caressed his cheek as he stared at the red head standing not 5 feet away from me.
There was no mistake.
That had to be Rabi.
001
No more fights, no more wars.
Will you be back?
－Don't you remember, he is dead.
－Dead.
－Killed in the war.
－Death.
He screamed out loud, holding his head in his hands as if it weighted too much for him to hold on to any further.
The weight of the world was lifted off of his shoulder once the war is over.
But he couldn't help but think that something heavier was now weighting on his chest.
007
He stood there with one of those familiar grins on his face.
－Hey Allen,
He parted those familiar lips.
－Have you been crying again?
He asked with the gentlest of tone.
－…Rabi…?
He couldn't believe he was real, his gray orbs wide with atonement.
－Who else can I be?
He gave a short laugh, his laughter ringed out in such a melody that Allen couldn't help but smile.
－Of course you are Rabi.
Allen laughed at his own doubts, who else can that be except for Rabi, no one but his lover, the red headed
Bookman Apprentice.
006
－I never forgot about you, Allen.
He whispered as the other walked away with tears stinging his eyes.
－But the war is over.
－I must go on to finish what I came for.
He turned his back to the other walking away, who trailed behind a jacket of black and white, contrasting deeply against the bright surroundings that wrapped around them.
They stood out against their backgrounds.
－You are history.
His lips said something that went against what he was really feeling.
003
He placed a hand over his chest, over where he could feel the light thumping of his heart.
－A heart that he never had.
He blinked once then twice.
A smile came to his lips as he realized something that just struck him.
－Don't you get it?
He gave a dry laugh.
－He gave his heart to history.
009
A black cross on a stretch of red.
A grave for the soldiers that gave their lives.
He stood there in loneliness and solitude.
His red strands bellowed along with the current of the wind as it coldly blows by. A smile stretched along the pair of lips as he saw a name etched on to the cold black stone that held no warmth.
A black cross on a stretch of red.
No surname, just a simple two syllable word of simplicity.
Rabi
A symbol that marked his death.
Merely a current that follows the course of history.
002
He sat up on his bed, beads of sweat rolled off of his pale complex; his lips were gleaming red like the color that beat in his veins.
His breathing was ragged as he looked down and on to the hands that clutched the white sheets tightly.
One hand was the same color as the rest of his body but the other was a scaly red, on the back of that hand a black cross etched itself into the skin there.
－I think I found you.
He kept his gaze down.
XXX
More RA… not my usual style, but fun none the less. If you don't get it, don't worry I am sure you are not the only one. XD You can think that Allen was dreaming about the whole thing but at the same time Rabi could still be alive, ask me for any clarifications if you want. Review if liked: )
Kuro