The Days of Us

2. 銃声, gunshot

There had been so much blood. There had been so much blood and it scares him because he knows that she could have died, that she should have died, but some miracle had kept her alive. And she was going to be okay – the nurse had said so. But only when she is out of her emergency surgery, only when she is resting in her hospital room, only when she is awake – only then will he believe it. For now, he will sit by, a mess of worry and anxiety, and pray to some sort of higher power that she'll be kept, that he won't lose her.

He doesn't remember how it had happened; all he knows is the blood crusted over cold metal, the blood staining midnight blue a dark crimson, the blood seeping onto cold cobblestone. She had been so pale, completely limp and unresponsive in his trembling arms, and he'd just known that she was dying.

He knows that he's going to kill her one day. He may not be the one to shoot the bullet through her heart, choke the air from her lungs, snap the fire at her feet, but he knows that her death will be because of him, because of his life, because of his dream. It is terrible, he thinks, and he hates himself for it, and he wishes that he could just let her go, give her the safe and quiet life that she so rightly deserves, but he knows that she would never settle for any less than what she already has – she cares for him too much, he knows.

She's stubborn, perhaps even more than he is, and she would never let him fight for his dream on his own, without her. She's determined to have him reach his goals, focused on pushing him up until he gets there because it's her dream too, but it scares him – it scares him to think that she'll be gone when finally he gets there.

Maybe he's just selfish, because while he may want to push her away and keep her safe, he can't help but hold her close and try with all his life to protect hers. But he knows that she won't have it either way – he wasn't made to protect her. And after all, she's always been the first to fire her gun in his defense, the first to take a bullet to save his life.

He just hopes that this bullet won't kill her, that she'll just wake up and come back to him, because he doesn't know what he'd do without her.

Her doctor comes out of her room but he doesn't quite notice until he feels his hand on his shoulder, until he is lead into her room and he can finally see her and she's okay and she's not dead and he's just a mess of relief because she's alive. When he walks in, she's only half-lucid, high on painkillers and feverish from the blood transfusion, but she's alive, and that's all her cares about.

She smiles at him with sienna eyes half-lidded, and he can't help but smile back as he takes the seat by her bedside. When he holds her calloused hand in his own, it's warm, and it's still warm when he touches her fingers to his lips. He absentmindedly runs his thumb over the backs of her knuckles and it's strange to think that he's holding her life in his hands, but it's even stranger still to think that hours earlier, he had held her, dying, bleeding, in his arms.

His mouth is open and he wants to tell her how much she means to him, how he can't imagine a life without her by his side; he wants to give her the entire speech, wants to pour all of his feelings out on her, but instead, he finds himself telling her, "Thank you," and for a moment, she looks up at him, confused and asks, "For what?" but he knows that she understands. So he smiles and shakes his head, leaving a kiss on her forehead and whisper in her ear.

"Thank you – for not dying."

It's not funny because she knows that he's not trying to be humorous, and his sentimentalities really are endearing, but she can't stop the snicker that leaves her lips. "You really didn't have to worry so much," she tells him (and her voice is still hoarse but is so full of life), and continues "but you're very welcome."

And now it's his turn to laugh because he knows that she's not trying to be serious, and her smile really is endearing, and he can't stop the chuckle that leaves his lips. And he can't help but laugh at how good it feels to be alive and have her alive and he's just glad that she's okay, because he really couldn't ask for more.


When I first began writing this, I wasn't too sure that I'd like it when I finished, but I think it turned out okay, right?

A big thank you to BrookUchiha Daughter of Hermes for reviewing the previous chapter! Thanks for reading, and as always, reviews would be much appreciated! Be sure to stay tuned for next time!