𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, Inumaki Toge

VIII, i want to come home for christmas.

————————————————————————

MESSAGE TO: <3

INUMAKI
hey
(message not sent!)

how are you?
(message not sent!)

i know we haven't talked in a while , but i think we should talk about this
(message not sent!)

are you doing well?
(message not sent!)

are you happy without me?
(message not sent!)

i hope you're doing as badly as i am
(message not sent!)

have you found a guy?
(message not sent!)

hey have you told your mum about us?
(message not sent!)

can we talk?
(message mot sent!)

————————————————————————

WAITING FOR HEARTBREAK IS a peculiar feeling, Inumaki thinks.

It's that feeling of anticipation, where you're dreading what's going to happen soon but you want it to happen and you're looking forward to it, and yet at the same time trying to find a way out of it despite already know how everything will end and every line after this that fate has already planned for.

To wait for heartbreak is to open up your heart to the one person you know can hurt you the most and let your emotions seep out in blood-red gushes. It is loving someone enough to put your heart, your fragile, still-beating heart, in their hands, and oh, how cruel, how destructive their hands are.

Waiting for heartbreak is a painter expressing their best work and sleepless nights, letting it spill onto the canvas, only to present it to someone for them to rip apart the next day and not lifting a finger to stop it. It is a sculptor pouring blood, swear and tears into a piece, just to give it to someone for them to smash it into a million splintering pieces.

Waiting for heartbreak is a peculiar feeling, indeed.

Perhaps heartbreak is inevitably the cause of all tragedies. Perhaps all great stories, all heroes, all villains, stem for heartbreak, and there is no true line between the two, just as there is no true line between the two sides of a knife, because someone always bleeds. This is merely a drop in the ocean of great suffering.

But there is a moment, just a moment, before you drown, where all is quiet.

There is a moment, just a moment, before a heart breaks that you can hear it holdings its breath.

Because no matter how much a person claims to prefer dying or living, they will hold their breath of they are thrown into water, and it is from there that you will know their claims are false.

Waiting for heartbreak is no different.

There will be some part of the beating heart that still resists from its imminent breaking, and that is the heart holding its breath right before it breaks.

Because it knows that when you reach that moment of silence right before you drown, no one lives to tell the tale. Because no one lives.

And knowing your fate is never better than not.

PERHAPS INUMAKI IS NOT waiting for heartbreak.

Perhaps his heart is already broken, but that in turn begs the question: How many times can a broken heart break?

Because he knows his heart broke when she walked out. He could practically hear it splintering as the door slammed behind her, dealing yet another blow to his weak chest. He knows his heart broke when he woke up and she wasn't there. He could practically see it cracking, the only thing visible in the dark as he lay, hopelessly alone. He knows his heart breaks every time he thinks about her and what should have been — so when will he stop being able to pick up the pieces and hold them close to his hollow chest?

Everything has a breaking point.

She is his.

HE PUT UP THE Christmas tree all by himself today.

The baubles don't shine. Not anymore.

————————————————————————