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Bright. It was too bright. A timeless light. Where was he? He didn’t know. Wait, no. He did know. Home. At least he thought so. But something felt wrong. Out of place. A weight on his back. A knot in his stomach. Like it didn’t belong. Like he didn’t belong.
A familiar face by the cliff edge, the very precipice of their home. Below lay nothing but sky, an endless expanse stretching beyond sight. It unnerved him. They were lured into a trap, diversion failing. Cornered. They wouldn’t give up.
Tired, he was so tired. The fighting went on for so long, but he had to keep going. For her. He didn’t see it. Not until Beel threw himself in the way, blocking it with his shield. Arrows. One for him, and one for… he caught her gaze as the arrow pierced her stomach.
“Lilith!”
“Bel… phie...”
Silence. Everything faded. Except her. Now was his chance. Nothing holding him back. He could save her. This time, he could save her. He went to take a step forward, only to find he couldn’t move. Panic gripped his throat, words unable to escape his lips.
I’m coming. I’ll save you. Please...
"Belphie...”
Her voice carried as an echo, distant and faint. He tried to call out, but nothing came. He managed to raise his arms, reaching for her desperately. His plea answered, she appeared in front of him with a flash of blinding light. His relief turned to dread, watching his hands grip her throat.
No, no! Tighter, tighter. He willed himself to let go. Screaming in his head. She stared at him. Expression blank and blood drying on her lips. He can't do it, not again. He couldn't be the reason she died a second time. He had to stop. He had to-
"Belphie."
That voice. It wasn't her. It couldn't be, they sounded nothing alike. But who? Who called him? Wondering how he'd ever mistaken it in the first place, he realised. He wished he hadn't, watching the shape in front of him morph and twist into... you.
Betrayal. Fear. That’s all he saw. A look he once revelled in, now only wishing he wasn’t responsible for. He felt your pulse beneath his fingers, rapid with terror. The light, the spark of hope and life in your eyes faded the tighter he squeezed.
Stop. Stop. Stop–
“Belphie!”
He startled awake, panicked and searching. Where was he? Where were you? Were you okay? A hand touched his shoulder. He looked up, seeing you, but not meeting your eyes. A concerned gaze watched him, nonetheless. He must have been sleeping.
“Were you having a nightmare?” Soft whimpering and mumbled words. Sweat beading on a furrowed brow. Muttered names and whispered pleas. You already knew the answer.
“You should know by now not to wake me, Y/N,” he sneered. Belphie shot a glare, lackluster and tired. Rolling over, he turned his back to you. "Leave me."
That was the last thing he wanted. You knew it and so did he. But he didn't think he could do it. Risk seeing that look in your eyes. Seeing the betrayal, the fear, he caused. Something he regretted more than he could ever express. To you or to anyone.
You stayed, sitting on the arm of the sofa. You hadn't seen him like this before. It worried you. Your fingers found their way into his hair, gently running through. He didn’t protest, quietly enjoying the touch. Just having you there was enough.
After he hadn’t moved for awhile, you assumed he fell back to sleep. He must have needed it. Moving your hand away, the sudden grip on your wrist surprised you. Please don’t go.
“Just... close your eyes — I don’t want you to see me like this.” Belphie muttered, starting to roll over. It confused you, until you saw the slightest glint of something trailing down his cheek. You closed your eyes. You understood then.
He pulled you down onto the sofa, shifting to lay with his head against your chest. Your hands moved to his back, fingers tracing invisible patterns. His eyes closed and he listened. Your slow breaths. The steady beat of your heart almost rhythmic.
Thank you. For staying with me, Y/N.