THE INFERNAL FEE

CHAPTER NINETEEN: CLOSURE

WARNINGS:ANGST(HURT/COMFORT)

This is the final chapter, but there will be side stories posted on here, so it's not completely over yet!!

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Your head laid gently against a flush pillow, your wrinkled hand was sandwiched in between two, soft, pale hands. The large hands were untouched by the cruel arrow of time, unlike yours. You didn't mind, you were delighted that your time had come.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this, my love?", Corson's half pulled up hair gently swayed as a soft breeze flew through the room's window. A crinkled smile appeared on your lips at the lovely scene

"I'm...", you paused once the white haired male brought your creased hand up to his lips, placing a small kiss upon your knuckles, looking at you through his brows with loving eyes.

"...How could you still kiss me when I'm old and practically withered?", you turned your head, closing your eyes in slight shame. You looked back to the devil when you heard his chuckle, he lowered your hand and clasped it within his. "Though you've aged, your beauty hasn't wilted one bit.", he tilted his head with a smile.

Your laugh was raspy, full of self pity and a sense of self depreciating comedy. "Yeah, right.", you shook your head. Corson's lips formed a thin line.

"I could—"

"No.", you cut him off with a stern tone. You took in a deep breath, "No.", you stated more calmly. He acknowledged your answer with a nod, brows furrowing as his eyes dulled with sorrow.

You felt your heart skip a beat for a second, and not in a good way. Your expression saddened, but you forced a smile, for Corson.

"Corson?", you called.

"Yes?", he arched a brow innocently.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Y/n."

It stopped.

You drifted into peace with one last breath.
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Your head was pressed against something warm and soft, you couldn't help but snuggle into it, murmuring a string of incoherent words.

"Y/n?", a soft voice spoke, a light touch brushing against your forehead. "Hmm...?", you tiredly hummed, opening your eyes. "You awake?", he asked. "Yeah...", you looked over at the tv that was playing 'Ghosts UK', you scoffed quietly. A few memories coursed through your mind.

"So...what happened with Anselm?", you felt Corson's figure freeze at the question. "What do you mean? I don't think I know an 'Anselm'...", he muttered. You rolled your eyes, "I know what's you're trying to do.", you sat up.

"C'mon, just tell me.", you gently pounced on the sofa cushion. Corson bit down on his lip, "Well...", your face lit up. "What kinda freaky stuff did that Eiden guy try to do with my body? Oh, what happened to him?", Corson's lips formed into a thin line, a small flash of the earlier vision passing through.

You shook it off, "Well?", you repeated. "Anselm...tried, tried—", he emphasized the 'tried' before continuing. "—to um, posses your body...", his voice screeched as his head careened, wincing, eyes squinting. Your brows knitted and as you gawked at the response.