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If he, Luke Pearce, Financial and Technology Crime investigator of the National Security Bureau, aspiring ace detective, were to fall before he achieved his greatest dream, he truly had no one to blame but himself.
Carelessness. Arrogance. There was nothing he could do but to leave his fate in the hands of the professionals that surrounded him under a bright white light, the artificial spotlight beckoning him to close his eyes one last time.
He cursed himself. Who would take care of Peanut now? Who would sort out his belongings that had no permanent home to rest in? Who would take care of you when they buried his body in an unmarked grave after a failed mission?
God, what would you do?
Your beautiful heart never considered his death, did it? You’d hold on to the sight of him waving at you from the airport, hoping in your heart that he’d return to you. You’d wait for him everyday, keeping him in your thoughts, looking for his face in the crowds that swarmed Stellis. You were stubborn. You’d wait for him at the arrivals area forever, ignorant of the fact that he was resting six feet under you in a land you had never seen before.
The agency wouldn’t even send you what was left of him. He never wanted to come home to you in a box, so he crossed out the family section of his personal forms, determined to never involve you in his work, even in death. That thought was one of the few that allowed him to sleep at night. He never wanted you to see him like that.
Luke took a peek at the doctor readjusting the tube connected to his damaged body.
He never wanted you to see him like this.
In his tightly closed fist, Luke held a ring he wanted to give to you. Whenever someone tried to pry it away from him, he screamed and held on to it tighter. It was the lifeline keeping him to your world—not the machines that beeped next to him, not the doctors that placed him on oxygen. He felt the metal digging into his skin, the precious ring leaving purple marks on his palm.
He was fighting to see you again; he was fighting for the chance to finally admit all the secrets he held in his heart.
Never again would he take brunch with you for granted, and never again will he throw away a receipt from a book that caught your eye. Never again will he cancel dinner for a project he could have saved for later, and never again will he pass by a flower stall without buying a bouquet for you. He promised to use up all the space in his memory card to take more photos of you, etching your existence on pixels that would capture a smile you’d never make again. He’d hold your hand whenever possible, he’d dote over you, take care of you, catch up on all the duties he abandoned when he set foot in the capital.
If a miracle was to be used on him, he promised that he’d come back to you, spending the entirety of his second chance at life by your side.
Suddenly, he found himself wanting to say your name.
If this was his last breath, he could at least find relief in how your name would be the last word to leave his lips. Shouts of protests did not qualify as final words, and he wanted something familiar and sweet to comfort his numb body.
With the remaining strength in his body, he whispered your name like a prayer, his gasps barely audible over the frenzy of the emergency room.
Your name felt right on his tongue. It was as if he was born to say your name, to hold it close to his heart, to protect it forevermore.
Not the commands he mumbled into his receiver, not the profanity that scraped its way out of his mouth as soon as he felt his body grow weak.
Your name. Just your name.
He wanted to call your name one last time and see you turn around to face him. He wanted to see the smile, to hear the laugh that greeted him in his dreams every night; he wanted to see the girl he was trying so desperately to live for. He didn’t want you to be a memory. He begged for you to not be a memory.
From beginning to end, Luke loved you more than anything else the world had to offer him. Prague was beautiful, but the bells of its clock could never compare to the tinkling of your laugh. He met people from all walks of life; people who lit up the room with their presence—but none of them could compare to how you glowed in even the darkest of moments. When he received news of the bar exam passers, he thought of you and your selfless dream. You were going to be the best lawyer in Stellis, there was no doubt about it. In his dreams where he met you again, you called him “detective”, he called you “attorney”, and your laughs mingled in the warm, comforting air.
At some point, the doctors had stopped their attempts at taking the ring away. Luke finally loosened his grip, the tips of his fingers exploring the intricate details he carved himself. He wondered what your reactions to a proposal would be like. Would you be elated? Would you start yelling at him, embarrassed by the romantic gesture?
What kind of wedding dress would you wear? Like a gentleman, he promised not to peek until the day of the ceremony. How did you feel about red and orange? Yellow and red? How did you feel about swearing an oath under the colors of the sunset?
Were you still fond of the name “Xia Xia”? He found a brief reprieve in imagining a younger version of you, giggling, running between his legs, asking to be carried on his shoulders. The thought made his heart calm down. If he smiled right there and then, would the doctors start fearing for the worst?
If this was the end, at least he had loved you until his last moments.
Luke sobbed.
He did not remember what happened next.