The hand on her face is gentle and cool. She feels like she might shiver, but her body doesn't react. She's colder, too--or at least she feels that way. She focuses on what she can still smell of him between her shallows gasps for air. Her mind wanders.
She remembers the Race Arena. She had been stabbed through the stomach in that one, but he found her. Just like he did now. He carried her to the finish line, at the cost of his own life. She remembers turning around in that last moment and smelling a flash of green come down around him.
Green like the paint that they used in the training center. Greens and purples and blues and reds... There were so many colors, and she loved them all. She loved the way that he blended them and the emotion found in their depths. It was breath-taking and inspiring all in one. She remember the paint fight--her and Initiate and Signless. The way they laughed, even amid his makeshift Carnival.
She remembers his laugh the best, and the way that he would smile at her. She remembers winding braids into his hair, tucking them around a crown of flowers. Her chest had been so full back then, she thought she would burst. She could have kissed him right there. She should have. Then maybe she would have had more time together with him.
He mouths words at her, and all she manages to catch is the word stay. Such a simple word, and yet it's defined so much of their time together. She remembers the first time she said that to him. She hadn't expected the look on his face to be so surprised. Did she ever ask him why? She doesn't remember if she did or not, and suddenly she wants to know, even if she distantly knows that there's no time for him to tell her. Even so, the words that come to her are different.
"Pity you," she tries to say, but she's not sure if the words make it past her lips. She doesn't hear the sound of her own voice, and she's too tired to try again. Her grip on him loosens completely. Darkness folds over her like a wave, sweeping her consciousness away.
She exhales, but there's no inhale that follows this time. Her chest is still and silent; her eyes remain half-lidded, staring blindly out at the world that she tried to cling to. Blood still coats her front and back, but the pace of the flow has slowed considerably. It only oozes now, creeping slowly across the fabric of her shirt without any force behind it.
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She remembers the Race Arena. She had been stabbed through the stomach in that one, but he found her. Just like he did now. He carried her to the finish line, at the cost of his own life. She remembers turning around in that last moment and smelling a flash of green come down around him.
Green like the paint that they used in the training center. Greens and purples and blues and reds... There were so many colors, and she loved them all. She loved the way that he blended them and the emotion found in their depths. It was breath-taking and inspiring all in one. She remember the paint fight--her and Initiate and Signless. The way they laughed, even amid his makeshift Carnival.
She remembers his laugh the best, and the way that he would smile at her. She remembers winding braids into his hair, tucking them around a crown of flowers. Her chest had been so full back then, she thought she would burst. She could have kissed him right there. She should have. Then maybe she would have had more time together with him.
He mouths words at her, and all she manages to catch is the word stay. Such a simple word, and yet it's defined so much of their time together. She remembers the first time she said that to him. She hadn't expected the look on his face to be so surprised. Did she ever ask him why? She doesn't remember if she did or not, and suddenly she wants to know, even if she distantly knows that there's no time for him to tell her. Even so, the words that come to her are different.
"Pity you," she tries to say, but she's not sure if the words make it past her lips. She doesn't hear the sound of her own voice, and she's too tired to try again. Her grip on him loosens completely. Darkness folds over her like a wave, sweeping her consciousness away.
She exhales, but there's no inhale that follows this time. Her chest is still and silent; her eyes remain half-lidded, staring blindly out at the world that she tried to cling to. Blood still coats her front and back, but the pace of the flow has slowed considerably. It only oozes now, creeping slowly across the fabric of her shirt without any force behind it.