epilogue

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"we were never meant to be together

we were never meant to love one and other

we never meant to begin to care

regretting all my decisions feels like a burden

but treasuring it feels too shameful

i don't want to trust the lie but i don't want to believe the truth

but the truth is

we don't belong in the same world"

his knees fell to the ground, his heart sliced right through the middle. it was a dangerous world out there when you only began to see the blood. it was scary how everything zoned out as her body hit the floor, her eyes rolling to the back of her head

suddenly, everything felt as if it was an illusion, a mere hallucination

when they first met

when they first argued

when they first kissed

when they first loved

it was all a strange feeling. perhaps it all felt too painful for the blonde to even feel it. everything was an intense combination of a delusion; without the fuel the flame can never be lit, without the night there can never be day, without the rain there can never be a rainbow.

they say everything happened for a reason

but what is the reason for a death?

revenge or was it a deserving decision?

the worse feeling was to feel nothing, and chenle knew that a drowning feeling had come over his body. he didn't know wether he should cry or whether he should stare blankly at the deceased body

the heavy footsteps of his approaching gang didn't even make the slightest noise in his ear, only the gushing of blood clear to him. the men around him released his arms from around chenle, his limp body falling forward. no one could fix a scar that lay fresh in the heart, and no one knew if it could ever be mended

he pulled himself over to her, his hands running over the pale skin, her body laying in his arm. shaking was an underestimate, instead, his fingers were trembling as it hovered over her neck that leaked with the thick liquid.

if fate was real, why would he be kneeling there, staring hopelessly at a body without a soul.

he could form any words despite his mouth moving in waves of despair, his finger brushing over her cheek and it made its way to gently scrape along her lips

the lips only he has ever touched

"hyejin" his voice shook so violently that even he couldn't believe such noise was coming out of his mouth

"you're not dead..." he flickered his soulless eyes over her face "...wake up and tell me you're not dead!" his eyes were squeezed shut, hollows if resentment and regret leaving his mouth. his hand grasped her shoulder, his head bowed down against her face so that her skin scraped along his neck. he held a piece of decay so close to him, as if one single touch could bring her back to life.

alexithymia | zhong chenle √ Where stories live. Discover now