✨️ Heartless Dress 💄KimChay Au 🗡 ✨️

Devilish angel

(Hi <3 Have the greatest time possible <3 hope you are feeling great <3 )

It turned out that Kim really didn't mind losing his hand if it was to reach Porchay quickly, he didn't mind to not be able to hold his hand anymore with his left hand, if it was to ensure that he would still be able to do it with his right one, grabbing a warm and not deadly cold skin. He only had one purpose for now, taking those stairs, but this man was annoying him and had no idea of what Kim could do for love. He rejected it, when he needed it, too much, to let it go this easily now that he could dive in it. Feel it. Cherish it. 

He felt so much more calm and at ease since he felt loved. Unconditionally loved. And he also could witness and find soft feelings where he couldn't before. All of Kinn's and Porsche's actions were clearer for Kim now. He saw their care and felt their love. He even liked it even if he was still a little uncomfortable with those emotions. The only one not making him feel bad about sharing those feelings was out there, above him, fighting, when he wasn't the better in a battle, and whatever the costs of it, he wouldn't let anyone anymore take away this part of him.

The trained soldier was also surprised. He knew about people ready to die for their purpose, but he wasn't ready for this. In his logical world, Kim would have withdrawn and began the fight, but he just stared at him. And smiled. It dumbfounded him, his reaction wasn't rational at all. Humans against fear would often renounce, death was a real one, terrifying, but for Kim, Porchay dying was more atrocious than losing one hand or his own death. He was determined to open that damn door.

He used the laps of time he confused the soldier to take his own knife, the movements crossed paths. One put the sword down in a defensive reflex, the second one threw the knife in his heart, making both of them fall.

He should have reached the heart. The other one didn't talk or move anymore.

Only Kim's own distress could be heard. His voice pierced the void of that room, his hand replaced by a fountain of blood. The pain destroyed his rationality, sliding in all of his cells and muscles, and his own screams couldn't be heard by his ears, too focused on the blood, the red liquid. Dying. He knew that he was dying, but he couldn't die. Porchay was near. He needed to reach him. Dying wasn't what they planned and Kim always followed his plans, always.

What made him move wasn't the lessening of pain, but the mental needs to survive. To walk, to find Porchay, help him, hug him, again, and he needed to kiss him and- the tears falling down on his cheeks were now full of his love, a mix of that slashing pain and of his desperate thoughts, his skin panting through all of its pores and blood still flowing, it needed to stop, he needed to keep all of what makes his life possible, though his heart and veins to stay inside, inside because his emotions were also thriving in it, he needed to keep it. He needed!

Kim reached his belt, struggling a little before putting it above the cut, to stop the flow the more he could. He bit his lips to blood, letting some go out from another wound but it should be worth it, it would, a little more for he hoped, a less from his deadly one.

Kim was sweating a lot, his brain wasn't moving, only his heart was making his legs crawl on the ground. Kim couldn't let time flow away, he couldn't, even if he had to die after those stairs, he needed to at least, see Porchay a last time. He needed to know that he was alive, he needed to witness his gorgeous face, he hoped, smiling at him. Porchay would smile. He really would, he was sure, that even in such a terror, the boy would want to let Kim see his smile for one last time.