She stood there, outside in the rain; engulfed by the biting cold, surrounded by nothingness a she was estranged from the rest of the world.
Her once beautiful hair fell in soaked and bedraggled clumps about her face; the deep crimson dye streaming, and dripping down from the ends of her hair.
As blood would. From a freshly cut wound.
She was both, almost sublime, and so immensely aware of everything at the same time; her thoughts juxtaposing what she wanted to feel.
She yearned to hate all that existed. For she knew, if she started feeling petty emotions, it would be the end of her. She couldn't let everything she worked so hard for be destroyed, just because of a pathetic excuse she, herself, didn't find reasonable.
Someone had once told her that it was almost impossible not to think, even for a second; she could now comprehend how true that statement was. She was trying so desperately to forget everything; to achieve a peaceful silence, may it be just for a few minutes.
Trying. Yet failing, miserably.
But now was neither the time, nor the place to be relishing on half-hearted desires, she would not have wished for- had she not been in her current state of mind, and she knew it. Of course, her attention was also required elsewhere, in an entirely different context.
She was well aware of the eyes behind her; she had been for quite some time, and now was as convenient time as any, to face her seeker. So she gathered herself, the best she could, and faced the stranger.
The stranger, she knew so well.
Neither individual was able to meet each other's gaze, and yet, both seemed somewhat frightened of looking away. Their eyes, lingered helplessly about the others' face, in a desperate attempt to surface the emotions, otherwise unwilling to emerge. In spite of their somewhat mutual feeling, neither seemed too eager to conclude their silence; almost as if there was no need for speech.
He continued regarding her awkwardly, unsure of what would be the most appropriate thing to do. So he did nothing.
He hadn't a clue on what to make of the situation; he just waited for her to make the first move, the first touch, even the first words. Yet, he was aware of it being in vain, for he knew that she too was deducing the same of him.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed it; the sign from her. It wasn't much, just sharp intake of breath as if she was about to say something- but decided against it at the very last instant. It was all that he needed for the realisation to sink in- how hard all of this was going to be for her. And he had almost missed it.
Almost. But, not quite.
He tried to smile- give her reassurance, but to no avail. He found it physically impossible to move his facial muscles, even for the smallest movement of his lips. He needed to be strong; how could he be so selfish, when he knew what she was going through? Of course, there was going to be pain on his part- but it would be nothing compared to how much it would hurt her.
She would not only have to endure her own pain, but his also.
He nearly let himself get angry then, disgusted at himself, but managed to restrain himself before any real damage was done. He had almost forgotten that even if he let his anger show to a miniscule extent, she might misread it as being directed towards her. And, there was no way he could have that.
No. Especially not since he had worked so hard at concealing his emotions to any outsiders, at controlling this seemingly unfeeling mask, so she couldn't know of his reactions. It would indeed be extremely foolish to shatter those beautiful shards of lies he had so carefully put together. No.
He had been looking at her face, but he hadn't really seen it. And now, if he read it carefully, he could see that she too was fighting battles with herself- struggling, even. He smiled then. Not out of mockery though- oh no, this time to fulfil what it had originally set out to do.
To reassure her.
It seemed to serve its purpose, for a second later, she took a small step towards him. A little hesitant maybe, but a step in the right direction nonetheless. She was still finding it difficult, he could see that from the way she cautiously bowed her head and kept her eyes on the ground.
He shut his own eyes. This was too much for him to digest, no matter what he told himself. –Too much? It was outright unfair, that's what it was- The thought flew out, before he could suppress it. Once more, he shut his eyes, hiding behind the protection of his lids, disgusted at himself. He had no time for this, he was aware of that. Giving not a single opportunity for his once more set mind to wander, he opened his eyes, then determined, closed the distance between her and himself in five confident, yet careful strides.
Her head seemingly tilted a fraction with each one of his steps; she had no choice but to look up at him, now standing in front of her. Once more, she opened her mouth as if to say something, but hastily shut it again as though she had thought better of it. He smiled down at her, and still smiling, he reached inside his shirt for the precious blade.
Seconds appeared as eternity, as she stared at the knife he had held out towards her, her breathing coming out ragged, as she tried to keep calm. Finally, she extended her own hand, then carefully, almost reluctantly, took the blade in her own. She looked at it almost wistfully before tilting her head to search his face for any excuse- excuse he would never give her.
Softly gazing at him, she smiled a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and drew the blade. She trailed it gently from the base of his neck, digging it in deeper as it gradually progressed downwards, almost as if preparing him for what was about to come next. Then, before the either of them had time to change their mind or react otherwise- she brought the blade down with intense pressure, and plunged it deep into his heart, as it screamed for her.
It was as if the whole world had frozen in time; then, almost as ice melting, the pain, from the tip of the blade, seared through his body in the strike of a match. Further still, it stayed there, and only got worse with every beat of his fading pulse. He tried not to react –oh, sweet lord, he really did- but in the end, the pain was too much to hold, too much to bear. His whole body tensed, as he let out a strangled cry of a prey, and staggered backwards- falling through the empty air.
All she could do was watch helplessly, as the ground underneath betrayed him by causing him to fall and sand on his back, with a dull thud. She could do nothing, but stare at hiss fallen figure; how the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest were gradually slowing down.
It was obvious that he was in extreme pain- but then again, so was she, and she had to concentrate very hard so that her own pulse didn't match his fading ones. She could feel that he was trying to make it less painful for her- but she could see him, the way all his muscles were tensed together so tightly, how the veins in his temples and neck stood out from intense concentration, it didn't fool her. Not one bit.
The blood was now a consistent flow, gushing out from the opening of the wound- there wouldn't be much time left now. A part of her was begging her to do something –anything- just not stand there and let him go. Do something! Don't think, just do something! It kept on screaming at her. But the other part- the more rational part argued- What can you do? You were the one that stabbed him, now you want to save him? You cant have it both ways.
It the end, she let herself fall to her knees, and crawling over the ground to where he lay, she took him in her arms- resting his head softly on her lap. She didn't realize how intently she was gripping his hands, or how isolated drops of tears slid down from her eyes, one after the other, merging in with the rain as one. What she did notice, was his smile- and the strange sense of peace that evaded her heart along with it. Yes, the pain was still there, but if she pushed it aside and searched far beyond it, she could she the calm and warming silence that hid behind it. She smiled at that- even in death he was giving her the one thing she thought otherwise impossible to achieve.
Her hand had moved up to his face now, she was softly brushing his skin at a wistful attempt to ease away his pain. A part of her wished she would speak of her thoughts, give him even the smallest indication to what she was feeling. Let him know of everything you have so carefully pondered over, the voice urged, tell him of all the things that you wish for him to know. There was only so much she could do from bursting into uncontrollable hysteria, her mind kept on insisting over and over that she say something. You can't let him go, it screamed, not without him knowing.
But, maybe he knows. And this wasn't just an excuse she made to herself so she wouldn't have to fumble over an awkward justification- it was the truth. Of course he knows, why else would he have sought her out? Once more, she focused on his face, and with a sharp pang realised that she was losing him. Biting her lips to keep her from screaming in utter agony, she brought up trembling fingers to close his eye-lids. He didn't protest as she knew he would, but instead, brought up his right hand close to her face, in an desperate attempt to reach her. Smiling softly she took it in both of her own and gently kissed his fingers, one by one.
She shouldn't be feeling this way, she knew that- but it didn't matter anymore. Nothing did, apart from him- and he was lying on his back, slowly passing away from this world. She wished with all her heart that it didn't have to be this way, but no amount of wishing could change fate- especially if she had written it herself. And now, she sighed regretfully as she looked down at him.
Her beloved.
Her soulmate.
Her crimson sacrifice.
