𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐍 [18+] (#0.5)✔️

21: Wafting Memories

"No day shall erase you from the memory of time"

― Virgil, Aeneid

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Kairos' POV:

The keys feel heavy under my fingertips as I glide through them effortlessly, the gravelly melody of Gymnopédie cascades into a cacophony of deep timbre and folds within itself. The shrill ring of the B key joins the D. It reverberates through the serene piano room. The soulful tunes wallow and cry in mourning as they blend in together, like a canvas of colours. They fit like puzzle pieces, constructing a melancholic tune as it dissipates into the depths of the night.

Svetlana's blood weighs heavily on my hands, my conscience weighing down heavier and heavier by passing moments.

A soft creak resonates, I feel her presence filling up the room. Heels clicking against the marble floor, and cautious steps. Flames devour me, my fingers pirouette over the keys, over and over again until I make it cry in agony.

Stone walls surround me, the soft melody of the pouring fountain water dances on them. She halts, but I feel her lingering warmth over my back.

"I asked them to escort you to your home," I say, the blood on my fingers staining the keys red.

Her hand on my shoulder and my fingers stop. Something begs to be unleashed, something devious and depraved.

"Go home, Lunaire," I grit out, "Get the fuck out."

Her grip firms.

I slowly turn and meet her gaze. Her red tinged eyes widen, "Lunaire, I swear to god-"

She takes a step back, her eyes trained over the drying blood streaks on my skin. For a moment, I see a flash of fear in her eyes, it brings a sense of satisfaction in me, I can't quite put my finger around it.

"Why did you kill her?" Her fingers tremble as she signs, I can see that she is afraid of me.

I roll up my sleeves, her eyes following the movement. Dried blood covers the skin of my arms.