WARNING: THERE ARE SPOILERS IN THIS SO DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED

...I hate to update this fic with such a depressing chapter, but I wanted to write this for a while and felt it needed some kind of update. I also didn't really like how Yomiel's fiancée didn't appear at ALL in the game, but I'll be sure to write a more cheerful chapter about her instead XD this is actually my first time writing about something like this and posting it here, so...

This is just how I viewed Yomiel's fiancées last moments before she passed on...

ALSO, IF YOU DON'T LIKE READING ABOUT SUICIDALITY THEN DON'T READ THIS CHAPTER. I don't want to provoke anything since it's a sensitive subject.

She sat alone in the living room, like so many times before, no lights turned on to let the sunlight seep in through the windows. The house was desolate, quiet, uninteresting, depressing. A cold, piercing silence swept through the house, the sun rays shone upon her delicate, fragile figure on the couch, lighting up her bright hair and pale skin, sending waves of gold as her shoulders wracked with sobs causing her hair to gently shake with her. Usually the TV would be on, or the stereo playing. Though nothing had been touched in so long. Things began to collect dust, laundry left undone, dishes piled up. Everything in the house just...came to a standstill.

Occasionally the woman would go out, though only at the persuasion of her friends. She had to have them fix her hair, and her make-up. She could dress herself of course, though appearances didn't seem to matter now.

"I'm worried about you, Sissy..."

She sat in silence, staring distantly at the swirls inside her drink, her shoulders trembled slightly even though there were no sobs or sniffling. "...Why?" Was all she could say.

"You aren't yourself, girl." Another friend said, a worried tone and expression on her. "I mean...I know this is a tough time for you..."

"You talk to yourself a lot, Sissy..." The previous friend said, putting a hand on the woman's shoulder. "You know we'll listen to you, right? You can talk to us..."

Despite their attempts at comfort, she just sat and continued to stare. It was a while before she actually replied. "...You heard it all...it's all the same...it's...n-not the same..."

Her friends showed genuine concern, they would take turns trying to spend as much time with her as they could. She, in the back of her mind, appreciated it more than anything...and she would tell them that maybe once or twice, but she wished she could tell them more. Though, her sadness and grief clouded her mind enough to where she would only mumble responses instead of fully conversing.

Barely eat, shower a few times a week, attempt to sleep, dress however, then watch a bit of the news to see if anything was said about the report of a 'man who took a little girl hostage, then pierced by a meteorite shard and killed' ...this was her daily routine. It gradually got worse and worse, and it brought her back to where she sat right now; on the couch, tissues tossed messily across the coffee table and sobbing herself into sleep.

She was left with nothing, now. Nothing but wonderful memories that only seemed to hurt now. She reached for another tissue, gasping sharply. His laptop sat quietly, untouched, on the coffee table in front of her.

"Oh gods! The power blew out again!"

Thunder rumbled outside, nearly shaking the house with such loud thunderclaps. Lightning flashed every now and then, the rain was heavy and continued for hours.

"FUCK!" The man exploded, throwing his arms up in the air and pulling at his hair. "That was a week's worth of programming! I didn't get to save it in time! SHIT!"

Her eyes widened and she whispered an 'Oh crap' under her breath before making her way from the window towards him, sitting next to him. "...Was...was that for work...?" She hesitated in asking.

He shouted another curse, yanking his sunglasses off and tossing them on the table, burying his face in his hands angrily, letting out a groan.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie..."

He mumbled a 'Not your fault', but kept his face in his hands. She moved her arms around his shoulders in an attempt to comfort him. Anything he said just came out as frustrated gibberish, but she listened to anything he had to say. Even if it was directed at her, she sat and listened patiently to let him get it off his chest. He worked damn hard at his job. He didn't have anyone else to ramble to, and she would be the open ear for him.

Another sob and whine escaped her. There wasn't anyone else to listen to her cries. Her friends already heard it all, anything she told them would just sound like a broken record. Of course, they were her friends, they'd listen to her until she couldn't even speak anymore. It helped sometimes but...they already knew everything. It wasn't the same. Nothing was the same anymore.

She didn't understand it...before all this happened they were so happy. Everything was perfectly normal. Granted they didn't have a perfect relationship, they did butt heads sometimes, but that was just part of being in a relationship. She was glad they hadn't gotten into any kind of argument before this...that would have just made it worse, if it wasn't bad enough. She would have to deal with even more regret.

But...why? They were so happy...and now...

She was alone. He was gone.

Her stomach suddenly let out a tiny growl. She hadn't eaten all day, nor showered, nor left the house. In fact, she hadn't been eating properly at all lately...she'd become rather disoriented at times. Bags lingered under her eyes, them already red and puffy from her crying. Her hair became flat and stringy, not having the motivation or need to curl it or brush it.

Oh she missed that so much...having him run his fingers through her hair and pet her affectionately, nuzzling his face into her soft locks and planting delicate kisses here and there on the top of her head. She'd―

―chase him with a brush, demanding that he let her brush his hair down for a while. Usually he didn't care to let his hair down, it was just him to keep gel in it, but she loved to brush it when she had the chance, and this time she was determined to do so. She chased him around and into the living room, laughing and giggling at him until they stopped. He jerked from side to side, but she countered his aim in whichever way he was wanting to run.

"SISSEL, not cool, I have an appointment remember?" He spoke in a warning tone, but at the same time he was grinning amusedly.

She snickered. "You can fix it back up can't you? Come on, it won't take that long!"

"No," He finalized, shaking a finger at her. "my hair is off-limits until I get back."

She narrowed her eyes and grinned back at him. "Not to me―your wacky hair is my property too."

He aimed a response at that, but his face suddenly turned a shade of pink at her comment. She saw this and laughed, then taking a chance and hurried around the table, tackling him into the couch. He grabbed the wrist of the hand that held the brush, but she didn't seem intent on moving off of him. He laughed and smiled at her, her hair dangling over her shoulders and lightly touching his face―she dropped the brush and began stroking his cheek gently.

"...Ah, what the hell, it doesn't usually take me that long to fix it back up."

She turned her head to look at the other end of the couch she sat on. She sniffled again. There wouldn't be anymore cuddling here...no more hugging...no more sweet words whispered into each others' ears...

She would never get to live those moments again. They were so quickly snatched from her that the realization took a while to seep in slowly.

But now...everything was starting to crumble, and fast. That false reassurance in which she thought maybe, just maybe, the reports had it all wrong and that he was actually alive and in the hospital. It was false, blind hope. She hated how she wound up believing in it for a day. She placed her palms on the couch cushions and squeezed them, biting back another sob.

Someone hold me...

No response. There was no one to talk to. No one to share her thoughts with.

S-someone...talk to me...

Still no response. She was only spiraling down in the belief that someone would come. That he would come...and―

―wrap his arms around her in a tight, loving hug, as she rolled on top of him. The morning light shone against them both, causing them to glow, the man let out a yawn, somewhat groggy having just woken up. She smiled lovingly down at him, removing her hand from his bare chest to run her fingers through his hair.

"I love you."

Y-Yomiel...

Suddenly, something seemed to snap in her. She froze. No shaking, no more sobbing. For once, complete and utter silence struck the living room. Her mind went into auto-pilot. She began thinking. The memories swirled inside her like mixing paint with a stick, like a whirlpool sucking everything down into it. Her dearly beloved had died...but what if...what if he was waiting for her? ...On the other side? Perhaps there was a way to see him again...he couldn't have left her completely, could he?

No...souls exist, spirits exist, maybe even ghosts. If he was there, she couldn't see him, hear him or touch him. Perhaps...perhaps she needed to end the same way he did? Would she be able to see him then? Gods she wanted to see him again so badly...so fucking badly it was driving her mad already.

She didn't want to sit here and suffer like this anymore. She didn't want to have to deal with all this grief anymore. Why? Why did he have to go off and get killed? They didn't even make it to the wedding...she'd never get to wear that beautiful, white dress she'd picked out, she'd never get to walk down the aisle and see him standing at the altar with a smile on his face...

Maybe if...if I died too...I'd go wherever he went...?

She suddenly snapped, standing up from the couch.

She decided.

Shakily and slowly, she walked from the couch and out of the living room, hugging herself tightly. The tears stopped running, leaving her face damp. Her bare feet lightly scooted across the soft carpet floor, narrowly avoiding bumping into the doorway frame as she wobbled a little.

She made her way down the hallway, heading for their old bedroom.

It shouldn't be too hard...it's n-not like too many people would miss me...r-right?

She trudged into the room, still hugging herself tightly as she looked around for a moment. Nothing had been touched...frames and other decorations sat with collected dust on them. She walked from the doorway and sat down on the bed, looking down at the dresser next to her. This was his old dresser...the one he used to keep a gun in for home protection.

She reached to pull the first drawer open, somewhat hesitantly, before stretching a hand in to pull out the weapon she sought. She'd never held a gun before, and it was quite heavy for her small hands. Though she gripped it tight in both palms, her wrist shaking only slightly.

She'd do it. It shouldn't be too hard. It would be quick and easy.

Slowly, she stood from the bed and walked out of the room, pistol still in hand. She went into the kitchen and found some post-it notes and a pen, sitting at the kitchen table briefly to write a very short and to the point letter. It was the least she could do...that way he'd know she was coming, and it would be left so anyone else would know where she'd gone.

I'll be able to see him again...that's all I want...is just to see him again!

Her hands had been trembling violently as she wrote, making the letters near unreadable. Sitting the pen down, she left the note on the table and stood. Suddenly...she felt somewhat sick. She exhaled sharply and loudly, standing stiffly as if frozen in fright.

This was it. She was going to do it.

She slowly, tentatively, raised both hands to grip the gun, turning it upwards to where the barrel fit underneath her slender chin, her delicate fingers curling around the metal and one index finger wrapping around the trigger.

...It would probably only hurt for a brief moment before giving her a headache...it would be quick and the deed would be done instantly. And then...she'd be able to see him again. She wouldn't have to feel lonely anymore. She wouldn't have to cry anymore, she wouldn't be swallowed by sorrow.

Suddenly, a wide, blindly hopeful smile spread across her face as one more tear rolled down her cheek.

I'm coming for you, Yomiel.

She pulled the trigger.

Silence.

She didn't get to hear the front door opening, and a man calling her name.

I returned to you but found, my empty home

The radio told me to stay

(As it burned on)

I sang alone

Here, I will pass my love.