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INUMAKI IS LYING FACE down on his bed, his glowing phone screen in front of him.
His eyes stare unseeingly at the text bubbles on the screen, nothing registering in his numb mind despite being able to feel his corneas being cut by the glaring light from the screen and the mocking judgement of the blue-and-grey text bubbles, only one of each.
He doesn't have the energy to move.
He hasn't left his bed in a day, not even to eat. Eating is meaningless to him at this point — what is the point of shoving food down your throat if demise of the fate humanity eventually, one way or another? It does not matter if he lives to the next day, the next year, the next decade or the next breath; he will still die. Perhaps it would be better that he died now, so that it wouldn't hurt so much. Perhaps it would hurt less of she'd been more tactful in her response — perhaps she could have been more polite, more thoughtful than a mere, i don't think we should.
He knows that nothing will change on the screen from him just staring at it, but he can't help it. Perhaps, by some miracle, the will text. Perhaps, by some miracle, she will say she's sorry.
He knows she won't. She's not coming back to him. The situation isn't going to change.
He rips the earbuds out of his ears in a burst of anger, the music still playing through the minuscule speakers — but the songs he likes don't sound as good any more. They're off-key, too high, pitched, ugly. They no longer sound like they once did. They no longer sound like him.
He just wants her to hear one song, one song, without thinking of her, without thinking of them.
He wasn't ready to let go yet. But she was so eager to leave.
He doesn't know of he'll ever be ready to let go — his roots still trying their best to cling on to her even as she's ripping them off her, damaging them with her cruel hands as she desperately pulls away. That part of him still loves her, and even now, he wonders whether she ever loved him as much he did her. He wonders if some part of her is still devoted to him wholeheartedly as he still is to her, so willing to let her walk all over him, so willing to do anything she asked because he was stupid and he was in love.
And then there's the part that fucking hates her.
She tore his entire world down, the threads holding it together splintering apart and pieces being ripped from it as it crashed. He doesn't have the will to do anything anymore; the food he used to love doesn't taste right and he's stopped trying to force it down after he retched his guts out the other day. He's never liked going outside, but even the thought of sunlight repulses him now.
It scares him, how much power she holds over him.
It scares him, how much power she holds over his world.
It scares him, how she's pulling all his strings but she's not even here anymore.
Maybe one day it'll get better. But his future without her is just an endless black hole of... nothing. He can't see past tomorrow, can't see anything happening in the future except this. He's distanced himself from his friends, distanced himself from his online life, distances himself from his career — he's just regretful he didn't do it earlier. Maybe she would've stayed.
Maybe they would've been celebrating their White Christmas, where the treetops glisten and the children listen to hear sleigh bells in the snow. Just like the ones he used to know.
Maybe he wouldn't be having such a blue one.
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YOU ARE READING
𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, Inumaki Toge
Action"Those christmas lights, light up the street." 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 he loses her in a time of merriment. - INUMAKI X OC
