Afternoon Tea: 100 Theme Drabbles

by pencil gal

Sometimes love stories don't need fifty chapters to be told. Sometimes love, attraction, desire, or caring can be found in the smallest of moments. All drabbles centred around a different theme, all UsaMamo first season.

28. 20 Scars

Written for Usagi and Mamoru: A Love Like No Other. Link can be found on my bio page.

20. Scars (394 words)

Red. It was all red. Everywhere she looked, all she could see was the ever spreading redness. "Endymion!" She cried as she began to stumble across the ground, the blood soaking through her jeweled shoes and into the bottom of her long white dress. "ENDYMION!" She tripped over something and fell, blood splattering all over her dress and pale skin and began to dye her long silver hair. Glancing back as she continued to sit in the sea of red, her blurred vision was just able to recognise the familiar body. "NO!" She scrambled closer on her hands and knees, no longer paying any attention to the red, seeing only the mess of black hair and the dark armour. She grabbed his shoulders and began to shake him, her tear-filled eyes alternating between staring at eyes that she knew were blue but which were now closed to her forever and glaring at the red-stained silver sword which still stood vertically in the man's chest. Her chest heaving with sobs, she reached forward with one hand and grasped the blade. Pain bit into her as blood ran over her wrist, down her arm and dripped from her elbow to her dress. Her other hand wrapped around the blade as she pulled the sword from his chest. Red fell from the tip in sync with the crystal that fell from her eyes. She raised the sword, tip pointed towards her heart and thrust it through her own body.

Usagi sat up in bed gasping for breath, sweat beaded on her forehead. Wild, frightened eyes darted around the bedroom before looking down at herself. Shaky hands quickly lifted her pyjama top and patted along her torso to make sure there wasn't some big, ugly sword sticking out of her. She released a breath when she was satisfied that there was nothing there but the vertical scar left over from her run-in with a rusty nail at age six.

She laid her hands on the blanket palms facing up and inspected the crescent-shaped indents her nails had made. Usagi bit her lip slightly when she noticed the tiny rivulets of blood just under her lifelines. Apparently she had been clenching her fists so tight that her nails had broken the skin. Usagi gulped and glanced out her window.

Staring up at the moon tears trickled down her cheeks.