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After being kidnapped during your adolescence, you pointed a gun at your kidnapper and shot them, making violence your way of self defense. Every time you went out, you always had a gun or a knife in your pocket and bags, hoping to use it whenever a threat bestows upon itself to you.
With every stranger you found suspicious getting near you, you always pointed a gun or a knife at them, having to refrain yourself from triggering it. However, you had multiple killings where many innocent civilians died from your hands, making you flee to Liyue.
During your time in that country, you stumbled upon Wriothesley, who was working for an international collaboration for Fontaine’s police department with the Millelith. Wriothesley didn’t know who you were, since your reports were either masked or your image cannot be depicted, which made you hide your identity to him.
Speaking of Wriothesley, as he opened the door from your shared bedroom to change, he slumped down on the couch before turning on the television. He skipped through multiple channels–cartoon channels, animal geographic channels, and then the Steambird Channel.
“Fontaine’s most wanted criminal is on the run once again, after having a vicious and bloody killing spree at Hotel Debord.” A woman said, her face distraught as it showed the evidential photos of your joyous massacre.
Wriothesley leaned in from his couch, furrowing his eyebrows as he saw your photos plastered on national television once again, worry creeping up in his chest as he wondered where you fled. Seconds turned into minutes as the channel didn’t give any updates and speculation about where you went, but as soon as he heard police sirens outside his home, he knew just where to find you.
He rushed over to the highest window of your home, hoping that he would see you hijacking the window open. And you did. He heard you giggling to yourself as you gave one last look towards the police officers down below, wondering which turn you went. They were close enough for you to see, but far enough to not find you.
As you closed the window tight shut, you placed your hands on your hips and let out a big sigh, laughing once again after out running them. That’s when Wriothesley secured an arm on your neck and placed a hand on your mouth as he pushed you to a wall. His eyes full of disapproval and worry. “What the hell did you do this time?”
He took a peek outside the window, the room dark enough to hide his face. He noticed how vibrant the red and blue lights were, or maybe it was because of the tears that almost appeared on his water line.
You batted your eyelashes at him with a blunt look, looking at him in the eyes and on the hand on your mouth, telling him that you practically can’t talk, not when there was a big, muscular hand on your mouth and throat.
When he removed his hands from you, you grinned at him first and then wrapped your arms around his neck, swaying him side to side as if you didn’t just decrease Fontaine’s population by five percent. “Oh, I missed you too!”
Wriothesley grabbed your arms first before placing it between your side. “Just answer me first. What did you do?” He leaned down slightly to meet you eye to eye, his face stern and serious.
You remained a poker-like face at him, your eyes slightly wide with a small smile across your face. “A group of men were being such a pervert at the performance today. You know? The one with the twin performers. A few guys paid hundreds just to get them to strip.”
Wriothesley winced and sighed at your words, rubbing his forehead as he circled a bit around the room. He groaned, lifting his head to meet the annoyingly dark ceiling before he placed a strong grip on your shoulders. “Well I’m glad that you were looking out for their well-being. But dear god, you should never put the law on your hands like that.”
Your head was tilted to the side as you raised an eyebrow at him, hearing the sirens getting louder until eventually someone was calling out outside the residence.
“I’ll go talk to them, alright? And don’t go anywhere. Just sit on the couch.” He warned, both of you going down the stairs as he placed you down on the sofa. “Don’t go anywhere, I swear to god.”
He grabbed a more decent clothing than the loose shirt he wore just a second ago, but kept the sweatpants. He also grabbed the ID and badge he placed on the coffee table where he left you off.
Wriothesley leisurely opened the door, acting as if he wasn't harboring the exact criminal they wanted. “Officer Wriothesley of Meropide Police Department, how may I be of service to you today?” He brought up the badge and ID, showing it to them.
“Officer Morgane of the Marechaussee Phantom. Officer Wriothesley, have you seen the wanted criminal lurking in your residence? We’ve lost their trace around your area, and we would like to know if you’ve seen unusual activity in the past five minutes.” The officer said, behind her are two other officers from the same department, and a little melusine next to her.
"I’m afraid not, Officer Morgane.” Wriothesley shook his head, something to copy from his slightly trembling hands as he struggled to place the badge back into his pocket. “I just got home, actually. And turned on the television and knew about the case. However, I would let you know if I found some unusual activity.”
“May we request an investigation in your premises, Officer Wriothesley?” The melusine asked, placing her hands on her hips as she looked Wriothesley dead in the eyes.
He slightly furrowed his eyebrows, a sudden lump in his throat forming. “That would be unnecessary, Officer Ceasth.”
She exchanged looks at the woman, waiting for her approval until one of the male officers spoke.
“With all due respect, Officer Wriothesley, an investigation is a must, especially with someone as hostile as the wanted criminal.” A wide man said, crossing his arms as he looked at him.
“How about you investigate your own residence, you must have some private matters inside.” Another man said.
Wriothesley chuckled as he sighed, “Very well. I won’t take long.”
With that, Wriothesley turned around and went inside once again, shutting the door behind him. He made haste towards the living room, finding you still sitting on the couch but with a gun circling around your fingers. Wriothesley placed a hand on the said gun and grabbed it, making his presence seen as he stood behind the sofa.
“Stop that.” He said as he looked at you. “They’re letting me investigate the house, and I would like to hear no accidental gunshots from inside as I convince them that you’re not in here.”
Your eyes lit up as you saw your husband again, giggling to yourself as you gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “There won't be any gunshots heard here, you can trust me.”
“I know I can trust you. But once they barge through this door, make a run for it and hide.” He placed some distance between the both of you, breathing heavily through his teeth. The grin on your face never ceased to exist, giving him that uncanny innocent look as he scolded you. “Don’t give me that look.”
A playful pout replaced your grin, wiggling your shoulder side to side as you kept eye contact with him. Wriothesley shook and hung his head low, his eyes going back towards the door. “I’ll give them an update. Don’t move.”
Before he left, you called out to him one last time. He turned his head to you, crooking an eyebrow upwards and waited for you to continue your words. “Give me a kiss first before you go?”
Wriothesley, unable to resist you, chuckled and made long strides to go back to you. He gave your lips a not so quick peck, pouring all the worry and fear to it. “Just, be safe. Okay?”
You nodded at him, fending him off and telling him to continue his work. “You can trust me!” You exclaimed, leaning back on the couch as he opened the door and left. “And he took my gun with me…”
A few minutes pass and Wriothesley is back outside the gate to meet the four officers, a hand running through his hair almost nonchalantly. “No suspicious activity here, officers.”
“Very well, Officer Wriothesley.” Morgane said and slightly bowed at him. “We will appreciate an update from you further on.”
“You better, or we will have to tell Monsieur Neuvillette on you and off with your head in courtesy of champion duelist, Clorinde!” Ceasth said, turning behind him as she gave him a small glare from her shoulder.
Wriothesley snickered at her words, lifting a hand as he shook it like he was swatting a fly. “I’m afraid that won’t happen, officer.”
As the police cars retreated, Wriothesley took a few more seconds before going back inside. But this time, you were nowhere to be seen. His heart started pounding to his ears, his brain triggering a sense of flight as he searched the house for you, calling out your name. When he heard water running by the bathroom, he quickly made his way to it and saw you staring at your bloodied hands.
“There you are…” He said, his grip on the doorknob softening as he saw you alive and well. “I thought they distracted me and took you from behind.”
You listened to his words intently, but never met his eyes. You shoved your hands into the cold, running water, your eyes fixated at how the tainted red stains stuck to your palms like paint. How many people have you killed today? In fact, how many people have you killed in your whole lifetime at all? And during those killing sprees, how many times have you wished that you never ran from the police?
“What do you think would happen to me if I turned myself in?” You blurted out suddenly. Maybe it was an autopilot thought that your mouth registered instead.
Wriothesley’s eyes widened at your statement. What wouldn’t happen to you once the police get a hold of you? He leaned off of the doorframe and rushed to your side, grabbing onto your shoulders as he forced you to make eye contact with him. This action made you jolt up, your body not realizing that you’ve been staring into nothing at every thing at the same time. You scanned his face, his mouth slightly agape as if he was figuring out which part of the textbook he learned about what kinds of punishments the law has in store for you.
“You have no idea.” He said, almost like a whisper. You noticed how his pupils were contracting and how his voice quivered. “Once you step foot into that department, they will throw you in without any second thoughts and then torture you as painfully and ruthlessly as you did to your victims.”
“Second degree murder, illegal gun possession, resisting arrest, and multiple attempted murder–” Wriothesley let go of his grip on you as flicked his fingers as he counted all of the laws you’ve broken. Biting down on his lower lip as he showed you his fingers, “Do you get it?”
He placed both of his hands on the side of your neck, his thumbs rubbing your cheek as he leaned down on you and pressed your foreheads together, his breath hot and heavy against your face. “They’ll lock you away in a cell and throw the key, leaving you to rot in jail. That’s if you’re lucky enough to escape the death penalty.”
You stared at him right through his eyes, your face remaining deadpanned as you were unable to have the proper emotions you needed. Is it because you knew that would be the cost? Or maybe it’s because you would prefer the death penalty more than anything. It seemed like nothing was able to faze you anymore, after all, you have survived multiple life or death encounters.
Wriothesley noticed the lack of concern you had on your face, pulling back slightly to move your shoulders back and forth. “Do you hear me? I can’t let that happen to you. I swear, I can’t let them take you away from me. But you have to promise me one thing–promise me that you’ll be careful next time.”
Suddenly, you were able to make out a reaction this time. You let out a heavy sigh with some laughing in between, from how long you felt like you were holding your breath. You removed his hands from your neck, holding both of it delicately as you toyed with his wedding ring, as you swayed the other hand back and forth.
“I’ll promise you, and they won’t be able to catch me that easily. I used to be the best hide and seek player back in my days, you know?”
Wriothesley sighed, a mix of exasperation and endearment as he watched you toy with his wedding band. He came to know early that the playful demeanor you put up is just some kind of defense mechanism or a way to cope, knowing that he is a master of that tactic too. He knew you won’t listen to all of what he has to say, yet he was also unable to resist you either.
“I’m sure you were, but this isn’t just a game of hide and seek anymore.” He started, his eyes walking from your fingers to your face as his eyes softened at your sight. That cheeky smile plastered across your face, or how your hair fell perfectly to frame your face. “This is different, they’ll search everywhere just to find you, investigate every hole you can crawl into, and once they catch you…”
He stopped for a moment, his hand catching yours as his grip tightened. “And once they catch you, they’ll make sure you suffer worse than your victims. I won’t be there to protect you–”
“Not like you’re supposed to be protecting me at all as we speak.”
“That’s not the point,” Wriothesley scoffed, shaking his head as he discarded what you said. “The point is, I need you to fully promise me that you will not take the law into your own hands. I know that I can’t control what you do, and that you have your own way to spend your time leisurely, but dear god. Think about me, someone who cares and loves deeply about you, getting worried sick every time your face is on national television and newspapers.
At that point, the water in the sink started to overflow, yet no one seemed to notice. It was pooling all over the floor, the splashes hitting your bloodstained clothes, your feet running cold as no one bothered to turn it off.
A heavy weight filled your chest, making it feel like every blood in your body went towards your heart and filled it to the brim, with how much you wanted to spill all over your own feelings that you’ve been suppressing.
“I promise.” You said, your voice quivering in almost a whisper. “For better or for worse, through good and bad. That’s what we said, didn’t we?” Your playful demeanor started to deteriorate as your body betrayed you, tears spilling out of your waterline as you opened your mouth to take a deep breath and hitch. Or how your shoulder started to shudder and your mouth started to frown and pout.
Wriothesley felt a sigh of relief wash over him, the utterly bittersweet moment overriding whatever the hell happened earlier. He ran his fingers over your tears, wiping them off as his own tears started to threaten themselves by rolling down his cheeks. A wide, genuine smile tugging on the corner of his lips as he leaned in and captured you into a kiss. The salty taste of your tears mixed as he poured every longing feeling he kept hidden. Love, gratitude, fear, frustration, it was all in there.
“Thank you…” He murmured over your lips, his voice raw with emotion. “It means so much to me to hear you say that. Even if you think of me before you act, I’m already content with that.”
He pulled back, his hands brushing through the strands of hair that covered your face, pushing them aside. “Until death do us part.” Wriothesley whispered, cupping your face as his lips shuddered a smile. “Promise me one more thing, that you will come back home to me at the end of each day. And I will do the same for you, that we will both find our way back into each other’s arms. You got it?”
You took in a deep breath as you nodded into his palm, your breathing vibrating through your chest as you felt yourself become more vulnerable. Your eyes rested on his arm that held you, “I promise.” You stated, almost like a whisper. You kept your gaze away from him, like you were scared to meet him in the eyes. “I promise I’ll come home to you.” Another set of tears fell from your face as you said those few words.
There was nothing to be afraid of. Not with Wriothesley, no, he never gave you any reason to be afraid. So perhaps the fear came from you instead. The fear of being unable to bear that vow, one short year of your marriage terminated a little too early.
Wriothesley cupped your face and kissed you once again, then pulled back as he stared into your eyes that was filled with love and desperation. He let out a heartfelt laugh as he rubbed your face, squeezing it in between his palms. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”
The faucet from the sink was turned off, Wriothesley walking over to the shower to check the temperature before urging you in. A warm smile plastered on his face as he opened the shower door for you, “I’ll bring you clothes.”
You nodded as you waited for Wriothesley to leave, discarding your clothes onto the floor and not caring about the fact that it was flooded. You won’t use them again, anyway.
As you basked in the feel of the water on your skin, your mind started to wander at the times you ran away. There were moments where you were caught in a dead end, panting heavily as your body slid on the wall behind you, away from the flashlights and patrol lights. During those moments, you felt an unwavering splash of relief wash over you. You’re finally going to be caught. All those pent up years of running away until your limbs betray you, until you know nothing else but to run, they’ll finally throw you into the pits of hell.
But every time there was a voice inside your head telling you to keep running, to come back home. That voice came in as Wriothesleys, telling you to keep moving and come back home to him. And you did, you ran and you ran and you ran until you found your way back again, just like you did earlier.
That’s right. You’re only on the run right now because you still need to come back home to him.
You wore the clothes Wriothesley brought in for you, noticing the creases on your fingers. How long were you in there? And when did he bring the clothes to you? You probably didn’t notice him knocking on the door and placing your clothes on top of the toilet lid. Moreover, you smelled a faint scent of an aromatic smoke coming from the kitchen.
You wrapped a towel around your neck to catch the water droplets from your hair, coming out of the bathroom and sneaking a peek around the corner of your kitchen. Wriothesley’s back was facing you, but you made out the fact he was cutting carrots while the stove was on at the side.
“What’re you making?” You asked, fully walking inside the kitchen as you stood by his side.
He quickly glanced over you, a small smile creeping up his face as he cut the carrots in a diamond shape. “My specialty, because why not?”
You hummed in approval as he continued to cut, the smell of the barbecue ribs emitting across the room. “Better make it extra special tonight then.”
You skipped over towards the kitchen island, watching him work through his cooking. He would frequently glance back at you whenever he would reply to your words, a playful banter being thrown around by the both of you. Honestly, what did you ever do to deserve such a man?
Wriothesley gracefully placed the plate of his specialty cooking in front of you, grabbing a bottle of wine from one of the cupboards and pouring you a glass. He would always say that it was truly best paired with the best wine there is, and it was.
“Dawn Winery?” You asked as you sipped on the glass, and you remembered this was the same flavor as the wine you both had on your first date in the comfort of his apartment after coming back from Liyue.
Of course, every other date you two had was always inside his place. Not like you can go out in the open anyway, can you?
Wriothesley nodded as he chuckled, taking a sip of his own. “You remembered.”
Absolutely. How could you forget? The nervous sensation you had in a long time, the sudden urge to just walk out that door and free him. Ah, you could remember it like it was yesterday.
You hesitated at first to cut and bite your food, wondering if you’re even deserving to eat such delicacy that he made just for you, full of love and warmth and safety. In the end, you downed the food and pretended like your actions were justifiable. Of course they are, they were self defense.
Wriothesley offered to be the one to clean up the dishes, urging you to take a rest. He noticed how constrained you were the whole day, and thought that it’d be best if he allowed you time for yourself and to ease up.
And so you did.
You followed through his words, watching him for a while washing the dishes before you got up and went to your shared bedroom. The night felt unreasonably cold, and how your body would tingle when your foot would make contact with the cool, hard floor. The windows? Closed as tight as it could be. No fans or air conditioners were even open, almost like it felt like the grim reaper's presence was looming over you.
You eagerly jumped onto the bed with a loud “Oof!”, your chest immediately hitting the mattress as you grabbed on the blanket and pulled it over to your nose as you cradled yourself like a child in a womb.
As much as you wanted to wait for Wriothesley, everything felt like it was going slower as it seemed. He was only doing the dishes, what’s taking him so long? You glanced over your phone on the nightstand, it has only been three minutes.
The silky feel of the pillows beneath your head eased you up, the soft blanket serving tender warmth over your chilled body. You fought the urge to close your eyes, wanting to see Wriothesley one last time before fluttering your eyes shut. However, your body rejected that tendency and closed shut.
During your unconscious state, you heard light footsteps and a soft sigh, accompanied with a low chuckle. Wriothesley sat down on the edge of the bed, his fingers reaching out to you to brush the stray strands of hair from your face. He never told you this, but he always prefers to see your face before going to bed and after he wakes up. Hence the reason why he’s so against you sleeping on your chest.
Wriothesley lifted his legs on bed before lowering himself and resting his head on his arms, admiring your tensed face. “Good night, sweetheart.” He whispered as he brought a strand of hair to his mouth, kissing it lightly before dropping them and resting his arms around your body.
[ … ]
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The sound of the clock's hands went through your ears, the ticking sound being repeated in the room. You groaned lowly, making sure that your sounds won’t wake up the giant man behind you. That giant man being Wriothesley, his arms loosely wrapped around you.
The clock showed its hands at around two in the morning, the light of the moon and streetlights illuminating a subtle shadow of the clock, enough to depict the time.
You noticed the dryness of your mouth, and so you wiggled slowly out of Wriothesley’s arms.
You made quick strides to the door, opening it gently, so damn gently with no creeks, and closed it. You slowly walked towards the kitchen, opening the dim lights to light your way through.
As you stood on your tiptoes to grab a cup from the cupboards, there was a slight noise as you opened it. You winced, hoping that the sound isn’t loud enough to reach your bedroom. Then you opened the fridge, wanting a cold drink to rehydrate the arid feel of your throat.
You went and placed the cup down on the counter, your eyes lingering towards the batches of knives on the knife rack. You thought to yourself, how sharp are these?
While you were about to grab the biggest one, you hesitantly glazed over the edges of the knife. It reflected the light perfectly, but the very pointy end was quite dull. You pointed it at yourself, examining it further until you felt the urge to gauge your eyes out.
You gave an airy gasp, realizing the thoughts gnawing on your consciousness. The knife was dropped immediately back on the counter, your hands rushing to quickly place it back on the rack.
Heavy, short footsteps were taken as you backed away slowly, then you found yourself in the living room. You rushed once again to open the lights, the darkness frightening you.
Then you comprehended, where did Wriothesley put your gun? You might need it again for another heist around the city.
There it is. On the coffee table. Your husband must’ve trusted you enough to display the gun once again to your reach, and you were already fast asleep when he wanted to give it back to you.
You sighed, your heartbeat getting faster as you sat back down on the couch and held the gun.
While you held it, your eyes scanned on the faint stain of blood on the grip and trigger. Come to think of it, you’ve never pointed a gun to yourself before.
The barrel is facing you.
You let out a shaggy, nervous laughter as you realized the sudden change of direction the gun is facing, and it felt like you weren’t the one who turned it around to you.
No, you were about to put it down and run away, but the last trigger hit your forehead before you even placed it down.
Hah. You felt bad. You know when they say, you have seven minutes left to live before your mind shuts down completely? You recalled your first encounter with your demise, the very person and reason why you turned out this way. Yourself.
Then, you recalled your first encounter with your rebirth, Wriothesley. You remembered how hesitant you were when he proposed, crying to yourself that night when you said ‘yes’. The insufferable feeling of having to trap him forever in your upcoming marriage, or how you two weren’t a normal couple yet, in fact, was such a complex one that you were gaining humanity through him once again as he was losing his.
Oh, how you wish you were different. You pray to whatever god or Archon there is listening to you to forgive you for turning out this way, but it wouldn’t make any difference if you were forgiven. In the end, you were still a murder taking away lives of others before you took your own.
As you drew your final breaths, you heard faint sounds coming towards you in the form of screaming and crying. That’s when you knew that it was over. A tear ran down your eyes, your vision getting blurry. Was it really tears? Or was it blood?
Oh my dear Wriothesley, I’m sorry for ever daring to love you in the first place.