Work Text:
She’ll never forget that night. Not in a million years – the night she found him on the brink of death, blood spilling from his self-inflicted wounds, and all she could do was stand there and watch his soul drain out of him. She hasn’t been the same since.
The diamond engagement ring he gifted her just a month prior puts a chilling memory in her head. That night, he had vowed to her that he would never leave her side, that he would love her for as long as he lives – and in some ways, she supposes that he was right, he did love her till he died – yet, there was something so haunting about his words. It was like he was planning his death all along, the way he phrased his speech, like he was telling her not to take him for granted, to appreciate him because he’ll be gone before she knows it. She hates to wear the ring. It reminds her too much of him.
It was not like his way out was painless, either, no; he had stabbed himself several times, slit his wrists, and when he saw her, he finally let go of the last remaining life he had. Was it all a ploy, to get her to fall so fast, after she had revealed all that had gone wrong in her life, just to turn around and do the same thing that everyone else had done? Truly, she’s not sure if she’ll ever be able to get the bad taste out of her mouth that he had left behind.
Perhaps, if things had gone differently, she would have saved him, clotted his wounds, bandaged him up, but by the time she had found him, he was too far gone. It felt purposeful. She’ll never forget the way he smiled at her, a smile that sent shivers down her spine, one that made her grimace, even after several months of him being gone. Maybe it’s selfish of her to think that he had done it on purpose, to think that he just wanted to leave her alone like everyone else, but after all that she had told him, he had pulled that same stunt.
But oh, how she loved him, and how she misses him; she misses the warm embrace he would pull her into whenever she was sad, she misses his kisses, how soft and inviting his lips were, she misses his calloused hands, how she would always giggle whenever he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in; how could he do such a thing to her? How could he leave her alone like that, when he promised he would stay with her forever? Was the ring not a fulfilment of his promise?
Yelan wishes he survived. She wishes that she could still hold him, cradle him in her arms and kiss him all over, like how she used to when he was still alive. It felt like a slow descent into madness, she felt crazier by the day, but not crazy enough to snap and do something drastic. All she had wanted was to be with him, and now there is no way to do that other than through her haunting memories; though, in all of her memories, he has been turned into the wounded Xiao she saw that night, blood dripping from the slits and stab wounds in his body, and she wishes not to think of him that way. But it doesn’t stop. It never will.
A part of her insists that his death was her fault, that it was her fault he was pushed to such drastic measures to get out; was she a bad girlfriend? Was she bad to him, did he hate her that much? She wishes to know the answers. She never will.
“Do you hate me? Is that why you killed yourself?” She screamed, atop the hill that he died on, hoping that he would give her an answer, but there was silence. Yelan, promptly defeated, collapsed on the grass, knowing that she would never get her answer, no matter how much she tried. She wails for him, praying that he would hear her cries and come back to her, that he would come and cradle her, like he did before he died.
Oftentimes, she’d find herself pulling her hair out, anguished screams coming out of her, blinded by the memory of his death. She didn’t know what to do with herself; it was affecting her in worse ways than she had thought, and all she could do was scream and cry, hoping that one day, he would come back to her like some miracle.
There was no one here to save her. There never would be, not anymore; her only saviour was gone, he was buried, all alone. Was he laughing at her agony from above, thrilled that she was in misery, finally accomplishing his goal? He must have hated her all along. There’s no other reason for why he would leave her in such distress, leave her begging the gods above to bring him back, all while they laughed at her misery, pushing her to the brink of insanity.
“I miss you. I miss you so much. Why did you leave me all alone? Did I not matter to you?” She stared up at the night sky, the stars shining back at her, reminding her of all the times they’d lay on this same hill, looking up at the stars. It used to be their favourite activity.
“Of course you mattered. I love you.” A soft voice called from behind her, and she jumped, turning around to face the source of the sound.
It was XIao. Unharmed. No scars, not bleeding; he was alive. Immediately, she began to wail, falling to her knees and sobbing heavily, choking on her tears. There’s no way it’s real, there’s no way he’s standing there in front of her, completely alive and unharmed.
“You’re alive?” She managed to get out between sobs, staring up at his delicate face, his soft amber eyes, and the smile he wore on his face. He stepped closer to her, holding out his hand, and she took it, standing up, her legs wobbly.
“Of course I am.” Xiao pulled Yelan close, and she wrapped her arms around him, crying into his shoulder, her words garbled. All he did was rub her back and shush her, trying to calm her down. She pulled away from him to look at his face once more, and his hand reached up, cupping her cheek, “You know, you’re always so beautiful when you cry.”
He kissed her suddenly, and it all seemed real, his soft and inviting lips, his hands on her face, holding her so close; she wouldn’t trade this moment for the world. It was hard to understand how he may have been alive, how he was standing there, unharmed, no scars, but she pushed all those inquiries to the side, savouring the moment she had right now. It felt surreal. She wanted to feel this forever, his hands on her, his lips on hers, this is what she had missed for months. It was all she wanted.
His hands trailed down to her hips, holding them tight, the kiss becoming more and more intense as the seconds passed, the desire she felt taking over her mind and pushing to the front. She knows that likely, she will never experience such a thing ever again, because when all is said and done, he will explain why he left her, and why he won’t come back – however, she pushes everything to the side once again, wanting nothing more than to just feel and think about his lips on hers, the softness and roughness of his desperate kisses, craving to claim her as his once again.
Getting too lost in the moment, she did not once think about the possibility of it being all a fake ploy to get her worked up, fall into the trap that this person had placed for her, and her seemingly perfect scenario came crashing down as she felt the sharp pain of a knife being pressed into her stomach, slicing through her skin, pushing deep into her flesh. She pulled away from his lips, a loud wince coming out of her, staring up at him with betrayal in her eyes, the world spinning as dizziness encompasses her.
“What? Why…” Yelan whispered, feeling the knife twisting and turning in her body, the blood dribbling down her stomach, making a mess of her. She could not feel anything but the pain he had inflicted upon her, and the questions spun in her head, wondering why he would do something so cruel to her. The knife comes out, and stabs fiercely into her chest, a manic look in his eyes, his breathing heavy and irregular.
The voice that comes out of Xiao’s mouth is garbled, almost demonic, “This is what you did to me. You left me to die, you left me alone on this hill – it’s your fault I died. Your fault. Always will be. You better not be telling yourself otherwise, because it is your fault. You pushed me to–”
“You are not my Xiao, you are not him, he would never tell me something like this,” Yelan cries out in pain, all while blood spills out of the wounds on her torso, the knife twisting and turning in her chest, getting dangerously close to her heart, “Stop it, stop it please. It is my fault, I know it is, you don’t have to tell me that!”
“Do you wonder why I am here, why I have come back from the dead to tell you how much you ruined my life? I am here to reclaim you. I’m here to make your life hell, to kill you, to make you feel the same pain I felt,” The knife is pulled out of her chest, and she screams in agony, tears rapidly streaming down her pale cheeks, eyes red, “You will never be free. I will always be haunting you. Take this as a lesson.”
Only when the knife is plunged into her for a final time does she realise what she has done wrong, that it will haunt her for the rest of her life, even in the afterlife; she will truly never be free. He is right. It is all her fault. And there is no escaping it.
Laying on the grass, blood pooling out around her, the man fades away, but not before giving her one last bone chilling smile; the same one that Xiao gave her the night he died. And then, she realises that it was all in her head; she never met him, it was never Xiao; it was her dreams, manifesting themselves into a horrible hallucination, a false reality that she had wanted to be true. That she had begged to be true.
The wounds were all inflicted by herself, and as she lay defeated, she then realises the extent of her actions. She may not survive. But that is okay – it is what she deserves, after all. She left him to die. It’s only fair that she is left to die as well.
It was never him. It never would be, never again. He’s gone for good, and she was foolish to give in to the horrible hallucination, knowing she should have listened to the last bit of sanity she had left in her. Now she lay dying, a knife twisted into her heart, tears spilling from her teal eyes, like the blood spilling from her heart.
She begins to wail, exhausting the last of her energy, the pain finally dwelling on her body and a fire spreading across her limbs, screaming out in agony, hoping that somehow, someone could hear her, and save her from the hell she’s put herself through.
But like he said, there is no one to save her, not anymore; the only person that could have saved her is long gone, dead, buried underneath; she is left to die, left to die like he was, and it is her fault once again.
It is always her fault. Misfortune seems to follow her like a plague, and now, it has wiped her out too. One day, the torment will stop. But that day is not today. And that day is nowhere in her near future. She will suffer until her soul is put to rest. She will feel the burning aches that he felt, that she is now feeling, and she will feel it for all eternity.
Yelan feels it. The moment her body lets go, and her wails stop, and her brain begins to die. She has lost too much blood, it coats her hands, her stomach, her chest; it is all over her. And it burns like fire. It burns across her entire body, like someone has poured gasoline and lit it, and that burning will never cease. Until she is finally able to rest, and let go of her regrets, it will burn.
Perhaps, now that they’re both dead, they can rest together. But it will not be resting for as long as her soul is on fire.
She truly will never be free.