Chapter Text
⎯⎯ ୨ zinnias in april ୧ ⎯⎯
It was a quick demise.
God of death all too merciful under the weight of the blade, fast and clean. Her blood sputtered like spilling rubies, all too red under the moonlight’s shine, all too dirty with the weight of sins laid upon her soul.
She toppled over, hands gracefully soothing the throbbing part of her skin in a weak attempt to aid her dying soul.
Her hands drifted over the wound, vermillion getting caught under her fingernails.
She then looked up, her eyes widened into clean understanding.
Why? Why? Why? Why can she never save them? No matter how hard she tries and no matter the deaths that come, why can she never save them? It isn't fair, really. It's not, no matter the tears and blood she sheds and no matter the times she goes back she can never save them, are they cursed to forever die? But that isn't fair.
And in a moment of solidarity, she thanks the god of death for being merciful in this life, she thanks that she didn’t suffer all too much and she thanks the god for being gentle as its hand reaches from the murky depths of death to pull her under the water of night and into the cool embrace of solemn end.
She looks at the person who caused her demise, she would remember their face. She would burn it into her memory and when the time came again she would deliver their surely deserved death, even if they no longer remember hers. Because at every closing act, every moment where she thinks, "I've saved them." they would be there to steal her dream of a peaceful death and peaceful life from right under her feet.
Her gaze goes slack, butterflies of night flying around her eyes, how cruel she thinks a final time before her eyes drift shut, cool darkness kissing her with icy snowflakes as her body goes numb. Death greets her like a familiar friend, kissing her cheeks and body with fervent winter, but nonetheless, it feels like the summer heat and the buzz of distant bees. She relishes in the feeling. But sadly it must come to a close as her eyes break open once more, nay to the icy winter of her death scene and nor to the cool clutches of death’s playground, but to the breeze of summer and the scent of sweet flowers.
And with a toss back into the fluffy sheets of her bed, she lets out a quiet sigh.
106th attempt begins anew.
♡
- flower meaning; friendship, endurance and lasting affection