𝑫evotion | Identity V Oneshots 2

♡ Andrew Kreiss

𝑭𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓
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The thought of a silent match sounded so off. An echo of wind drifting through branches of leaves, a creak of rusted hinges of doors; none were from the expected hunter of flames. At times the wood of the shack would burn, ashes sizzling as the heat erupts into a frenzy, or the ground left murky and hardened a path that only the hunter left. But all were silent, and the ashes that used to speak and whisper every now and then ceased as if it submerged in the frigid cold of the shore.

Andrew could feel the calluses of his fingers stiffen at the touch of the cipher. It is cold as always, dirty and dusty. The small light it created generated only a fraction of what it would be compared to it finished and popped a spark. It shakes, trembling as he takes in the familiar environment. The scent of sea salt fills his nostrils, exhaling as the wind in his lungs came out with same worries. Shoulders tense, the feeling of dispersing winds swayed with the strands of his hair. Like snow it follows along the hymn of the air, kissing his skin and nipped at his chapped lips. Lakeshore, the place where the presence of a tortured flame maiden first set afire in his heart.

Your presence had warmed everything around you, eating away the cold as the heat melted a path. Like the sun, your flares attract themselves on soil, mowing and leaving not even ashes. The life that touched upon your fingers dissipated without saying goodbyes, and the ghost that follows leaves nothing but a sand of guilt. The silence that pass your lips overwhelm the roar of whispers, drowning your ears in a vast ocean of burning souls.

Andrew awaited your arrival, finding himself wandering through the muck of the shore. Water pulls itself onto the land, as if it yearned beyond corals and distinct species of fish. For a moment it grasps upon the wet sand before it lets go, white foam trailing behind with the sound like rain. It drowns in his ears.

Grains of sand tumble beneath his feet as he comes closer to the wrecked ship, and it was then that his eyes landed most terrifyingly onto what seemed to be someone's body. Laid into the darkness of the ship, rinsed of life and warmth - it was the maiden of flames. He could not fathom what became your fate as he could not feel your fire that were always so fueling with life. Your feet ached and drenched itself of water, the burning steps on soaking wood could only show of dying light. You were awake, but he could not tell what expression you made. Lips thinned blue, lashes curled whilst drops of water appeared like tears, the tips of your fingertips still barely felt heat. It was as if you were still drowning, lungs filled with an ocean of terror.

"W-What happened?" Andrew heaved a sigh, tongue twisted as if holding back in saying anymore. Did he need to know what happened? Did he want to know? The answer is yes, yes for both questions. His worry shown itself through the knot of his eyebrows, lips thinned and droopy at the ends. The expression he made would make anyone else yank away from his hold, terrified, perhaps disgusted to some. But not to you. Even as your eyelids weighed itself like boulders, even as the cold and dry breeze captured your scars, you could see clearly his perfect imperfections. It wasn't so long ago where you admitted you found him beautiful, where the pinkish flush of your cheeks melted to the sound of his voice. People are clouded in judgement, you say, and none look beyond that storm to see the beauty outside the dusk.

Those pale and scarred fingers he held up to your forehead burned in your skin like a tattoo. It felt comfortable, in place with your skin. He winced, feeling your temperature as cool as the shore. It did not feel right at all, never were you at the brink of feeling icy.

Andrew had then and there surrendered, leaving teammates bewildered and confused at the otherside of a salty and ruined village. He hadn't realised what he'd done, the sinking crevice in his heart felt so bitter at the moment he didn't consider his actions were out of character. Gripping you close go his body for warmth, the run towards Emily's dorm felt short.