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Emrys woke up in Heaven.
He truly thought this was not where he was going to go, even if he'd go anywhere at all.
It wasn't warm— it didn't feel like paradise, not because he was spiteful, but the person he came here for wasn't there.
He should've known. He loved Jayden— very very much, but they both knew where he was going.
Emrys sat up in the clouds, knees hugged slightly to his chest. He could see many people around, and they all seemed happy. Alot of them were blonde haired, maybe it was a common hair colour. He could never work Mortis' computer.
He also noticed that he was not in a white robe, and he didn't have wings, and his hair wasn't long and flowing and lovely.
He was still in the waistcoat he died in, his hair was still loosely tied and fell over his shoulder, and he was still in his skin.
Maybe he wasn't supposed to be here. He squeezed his legs closer, discomfort swallowing him due to a sudden chill that grew from his shoulder.
"Hello?" A voice broke through the blur in his brain, and his eyes looked up.
It was a woman with blonde hair, unsurprising. Her eyes were brown, and she had pearl earrings on.
She also donned a white robe like everyone else, she looked pretty.
"Hello?" She repeated, and Emrys realised he hadn't responded.
"Hi." He responded with some hesitance.
"Ah! Hello." She smiled. Dimples, like him. "Are you new?"
He nodded. "Mhm."
"How old are you?"
"Fifteen."
He saw her smile fall, and her eyebrows furrowed.
"Fifteen? Were you murdered? Ah— sorry, I shouldn't ask questions like that. I'm sorry you died so young." Her voice was softer, and he was surprised at how soft it could get.
"It's fine. The person I was here for isn't here anyway."
She didn't seem to understand what he meant, until she did and a short gasp escaped her lips.
"Oh.. Oh, darling." She frowned.
He was nervous again, and decided to let the both of them slip into a silence.
"What is your name?" She asked after a while. She had gotten closer, sitting on her knees next to him.
"My name is Emrys." His head sunk further into his knees, and he mumbled. "Emrys Davies."
"What a lovely name." He could hear her smile. "My name is Charlotte Dubois-Moreau."
"Oh. French?"
"Mhm."
"Sorry, I don't know any French. I had to learn Spanish instead."
"Spanish? What a pretty language."
He hated how happy this woman was. Was Jayden this happy wherever he was? No. He wasn't this happy even alive.
"Mhm." He hummed.
"..I'm sorry if this is personal, but I am extremely curious. Who did you.. die for?" Charlotte tilted her head.
"A man I knew. I thought somehow he'd be here."
She hummed, an invitation for him to continue speaking.
"..He wasn't supposed to die at all." He lifted his head slightly. "I don't know how he had gotten struck— Nimue had aimed for Mortis."
"Ah." Charlotte agreed, kinda. It was clear she was confused on the story, but was too invested in his story to interrupt with questions.
He sniffed slightly. "I miss him. I thought I was doing good when I tried to protect him."
Charlotte had shuffled closer again, and she stroked the top of his head. "Oh, there was nothing you could've done."
"How would you even know?" He spat.
Her stroking did not falter. "Would he have died willingly with someone like you in his life? Of course not. There was nothing you could've done."
He felt bad for snapping, and he pressed his lips together to prevent any sobs for escaping.
This was ultimately futile, and he was soon sobbing into his hands.
Charlotte pulled him close and hugged the boy, whose body was shaking with the cries.
A fifteen year old boy with this much to worry about? How awful.
She promised to help this child heal, since is seemed no one else would.
..And she'll have to tell Liam too.