Work Text:
Drip, drop, cold…,
Drip, drop, red…,
Drip, DROP…,
You can’t escape your end,
Drip, drop,
May you, oh dear curse one,
May you, the one who shall forever dream,
Sleep tight!
.
.
.
.
“Shizun!” a voice brightly called, “This husband of yours is back!”
Silence.
“Shizun?” he calls again.
Silence was still consumed.
Why?
Why is Shizun not responding?
Where is his Shizun?
He checked the main room.
Shizun is not there.
The kitchen?
He then speedily went there.
Shizun is still not here.
“Huh… Is Shizun in his room then?”
Maybe he is sleeping, Shizun does work hard every day so for sure he is taking a nap right now. If he is, this husband will wake him up then!
He now walks to his Shizun’s room, but something doesn’t feel right. Why does he feel like this right now? He breathed heavily, and the steps he took creak, taking someplace within this silence.
He opens the door, opening wide like a present.
Well, this “present” is the work of art but to his eyes, this “present” shall be his nightmares instead.
He swiftly goes to his master’s side.
“Shizun?”
It was cold.
Shizun was cold.
Cold… cold… COLD!
No- no… No… NO NO NO!
This- NO!
He then cradles the body…
“Shizun…WHY?!” agony howls.
Silence is filled more.
Shizun feels cold, Shizun please move, SHIZUN-
He was red… crimson red…
His Shizun is now a flower in red…
Shizun… Shizun… Shizun…
“Hah…” he dedicatedly places down his Shizun, as if he was a porcelain doll.
He reaches his back, unsheathing Xin Mo.
Xin Mo rages.
He doesn’t care.
Lifting his sword, he sends it through his chest, through his own heart.
Now, Xin Mo is covered in crimson; it's spilling it everywhere.
His eyes are now heavy, his mind in chaos.
He collapses, but it does not matter.
May he, Luo Binghe, go to eternal rest, as he dreams.
Dreams, dreams, dreams… He and Shizun shall always be together, no matter what the cost.