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Cold. Cheng Xiaoshi’s hand felt so cold, so rigid and still in the heat of his own palm. Lu Guang shook uncontrollably, even though Xiaoshi held him so tightly.
Blood. Blood spilled out from the wound in Cheng Xiaoshi’s stomach, pooling onto the floor as smoothly as wine, creating a puddle of red at Lu Guang’s feet.
The red surrounded Xiaoshi’s body, soaked through his clothing, staining the spotless white of his shirt, drenching the black of his trousers. The dark hair that framed his face was damp, sticking to his forehead with sweat. His breathing became erratic, pants exhaled in an unsteady rhythm.
With great effort, he managed to verbalize words from his throat, voice cracking in between syllables, though it was almost inaudible to Lu Guang. He had heard the words too many times, all from the same soft, pale lips, seen the same pair of light brown eyes looking directly into his fill with tears too many times. He watched the last drop of life in them fade, watched as Xiaoshi used the last of his energy to blink wearily, watched as his trembling breaths slowly came to an end. Then his wet lashes gave one last flutter and his eyelids dropped.
The last sentence he had attempted to form remained unfinished in his mouth as he became limp in Lu Guang’s arms. The hand that Lu Guang had been desperately clutching at lost its pulse. Unconscious, Xiaoshi’s head rolled to the side, lips slightly apart.
Without the significant amount of blood beneath him, it would look like he was just in a peaceful, deep sleep, perhaps dreaming about something cheerful, like living a happy life with his lover. That was what Lu Guang kept trying to convince himself as he stared down, unspeaking, at the body he held.
Warmth. The droplet of water from his eye that had just landed on his knuckle felt so warm. It made his fingers instinctively wrap tighter around Cheng Xiaoshi’s, as if they knew how afraid he was of losing him. As if the man before him was some precious jem that gave him life. Maybe it really wasn’t far from the truth.
Lu Guang briefly shut his eyes.
Too many times. This had happened too many times. Uncountable. The amount of times the scene before him unfolded was uncountable. How many times had he relived this moment, just to go back and relive it again? Too many times. Practically uncountable.
Lu Guang had established he couldn’t live without Cheng Xiaoshi. Just like how a flower cannot exist without its stem, how petals cannot blossom without sunshine, how light will not appear without darkness.
He had tried living on without him before, in another timeline that had been long lost to the tides now. But it had ended in drawn out nights, loud sobbing, and excessive alcohol consumption. It made him realise just how weak he truly was on the inside, despite his calm composition. How vulnerable he could be without his protective shell that was Cheng Xiaoshi, helping him through any sort of discomfort, from big to small.
So his conclusion was, he could not live without his Xiaoshi. At the start, Lu Guang’s goal had been to revive Cheng Xioashi, to break all rules and bring the dead back to living, to live with him happily ever after, for them to grow old together.
Though as his attempts went on in failure, he began to realise that all he really wanted was to spend as much time with Xiaoshi as possible. The times when they were together brought him happiness. And when that would end, all it brought was pain. He let out a heavy sigh, and rested his forehead on his palm.
Pain. Pain was all he felt these days.
Vein had long left, and the house was quiet, aside from his own light breathing. Eventually, with a wavering exhale, he let Cheng Xiaoshi’s fingers go. They had turned white with how hard Lu Guang had squeezed them.
Shaking, he pushed open the door of the small room he had locked them in, and took a tentative step out. Splotches of blood blemished the marble tiles, an evident reminder of the previous events.
Vein’s gun was left discarded on the floor, thrown down near the counter. The same gun that had killed Cheng Xiaoshi. Enraged at the memory, a feeling unburied from inside of him, something that was somewhere in between anger and guilt, giving him the urge to burn the gun, to destroy the cursed object that had stolen his lover’s life. Fueled purely by fury, he hobbled towards the gun to pick it up.
Though he originally had the intent of disposing it, seeing it up close now, he couldn’t help inspecting it. The steel made it seem like an expensive model, with a decent structure. His fingertips traced the shape, following its dips and curves, observing how heavy it felt in his hand. Before he knew what he was doing, he opened the cartridge case, and saw there was one bullet left.
So Vein had miscalculated. There was still one bullet left. How lucky for him that Vein had made such a stupid mistake, otherwise he might've ended up with the same fate as Xiaoshi.
But wouldn’t that be better? All suffering would end there after all.
Lu Guang couldn’t live without Cheng Xiaoshi, he figured that out a long time ago. But then again, it seemed as though it was impossible for Cheng Xioashi to live.
Did he want to keep chasing after him? More importantly would Cheng Xiaoshi want him to?
One bullet left. There was still one bullet left , screamed a thought in the back of his mind.
Still holding the gun, he slowly walked back to where Xiaoshi’s dead body was, slamming the door behind him, and securing the lock. Thoughts hazy, Lu Guang knelt down beside him, ignoring the sudden stickiness of his trousers as the still warm blood soaked through.
Laying the gun down, he brought Cheng Xiaoshi’s hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss to his knuckles, before frowning in disdain at the metallic taste that filled his mouth.
For a while, he sat there, staring at the somewhat tranquil expression on Cheng Xiaoshi’s face, his mind trying to blur out the blood that was so clearly there, so bright it seemed as if it was trying to tauntingly tease him about how obvious it was that death was unavoidable. And yet he kept trying.
Trembling hands picked up the gun again, feeling the solid weight in his palm. A hand left to ruffle Xiaoshi’s hair, brushing through his locks, untangling any knots.
A part of him wished that he would wake up from that, for him to suddenly sit up and laugh, to say it was all a joke. Oh, to hear his laugh again.
Lu Guang smiled at the thought, replaying the many times Cheng Xiaoshi had laughed, every chuckle when he heard a funny joke, every little giggle he would let out when he found something amusing. Holding the notion still in his mind, the gun he had been clenching in his lap lifted to his stomach, searching for the spot Xiaoshi had been shot in. The barrel prodded his skin through his thin clothing, cold and solid. If he were to die, he wanted to do it in the same way as Cheng Xioashi.
Thank you Cheng Xiaoshi, for bringing me joy.
His breathing quickened, the realisation of what he was about to do suddenly becoming clear.
Thank you Cheng Xiaoshi, for bringing me pain.
His heart beat faster against his chest, his ears automatically amplifying the pounding.
Thank you Cheng Xioashi, for always being there, and letting me live out my life to the fullest.
His hands became clammy, causing his grip on the gun to slightly loosened.
I love you so much, Cheng Xioashi.
A finger found its way to the trigger, and tears obscured his vision.
Goodbye. Will we not meet again in this lifetime?
And then he pulled. The sudden impact provoked a gasp from his mouth, the sharp pain that hit his stomach caused him to lean forwards. The loud explosion attacked his eardrums, the noise sending ripples through his ears. Red leaked from the wound, flowing freely around his body. His surroundings felt as if they were spinning, his head clouded and everything in his sight seemed to have doubled.
Losing the energy to support himself up, he lay down, settling next to Cheng Xiaoshi, the blow to his middle creating extreme discomfort. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he casted one last glance at the man beside him to store in his memories for when he would fall into an eternal slumber, before his eyelids closed themselves.
Lu Guang’s lips curved into a small smile at seeing his loved one’s face constantly in his mind, like a song that you keep singing but have no idea why. Satisfied, he let his consciousness slip away.
Soon, his own pile of blood would form on the floor, mingling with Cheng Xiaoshi’s, their hands resting on each others, fingers intertwined and lost in forever’s embrace. And then eventually, his own breathing would stop, along with the beating of his heart.
Goodbye. Will we meet again in another lifetime?