May’s Writing Challenge: Day 25

Here’s the post for today. I was doing some exploring and character histories last night, so as brutal as this one may be, I had to get it out of my system so that I could stop thinking about it.

She held him tightly, tears flowing down her blood stained cheeks. She thought it would be different this time. That somehow she could stop his death from happening. But she hadn’t.

Here they were again, the same as they had been the day before. His heart was slowing, his breathing scarce, and those brilliant grey eyes of his were staring up at her, urging her to be strong just one more time for him. Begging her to give him that smile that would tell him everything was going to be okay, even if they both knew better.

He clung to her hands with his, squeezing them as hard as his weak body would allow, trying to hold onto his own life for as long as possible just to spend a few more moments with her.

She felt his shift slightly, and her heart stopped, scared that was the moment. Looking down at him, she could see he was still present. He had not looked away from her for a second, his eyes wet with tears and the pool of blood underneath him only growing with each passing minute.

She whispered to him as she held him, begging him to hold on a little longer, but knowing that it was a waste of her own breath. She knew what was coming. This was how it always happened. There was no stopping it, there was only watching and waiting, praying for the end to come fast to lessen his suffering even just a little.

Seconds felt like hours to her, and she watched him as his breaths became even more spaced, more ragged and laboured. She cried harder, knowing the end was coming soon.

He released one of her hands, bringing his free hand up to wipe the tears away, smiling sweetly up at her. She smiled back at him, unable to stop herself.

That smile was the world to her, the reason she woke every morning. The reason she was so willing to sit with him and torture herself with watching his death over and over again. He was her life. Without him, she was nothing, and with every death she watched him suffer, a small piece of her died with him.

With every death he was made to endure, that she was made to watch, more and more of her left with him. Larger pieces of her soul were taken from her to try to help him find his way home again. And it seemed that after this, there wouldn’t be much of her left to help guide him home. It had happened so many times, his death was so frequent, that she had all but exhausted her entire soul in the quest to bring him back home to her.

This time, she wondered if she would even be there when he got back.

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