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BROWN IS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL COLOR.
It's rich and steady, like the roots of a tree that stretch deep into the earth, giving life to all that grows above.
His chestnut brown eyes are so beautiful, they often shine with warmth and laughter, but now? Now his eyes just look sad, desperate and scared.
I hate this look.
I want to keep standing, I want to comfort him, I want to reassure him that we'll be fine. But I am too weak. My legs give out and I start falling to the floor.
Kenji catches me before I can even register that I am falling.
He whispers words, low and urgent. "Stay with me. Stay with me, please." His voice trembles with fear, but there is a kind of fierce hope in it too. "Your too damn stubborn to die."
I nod at him, "It is okay, Archer." He raises an eyebrow at the nickname, but his hands keep putting pressure on the wound. "What? Am I not allowed to give you nicknames?" I mock.
He lets out a breathy laugh, "This is the time you think about stuff like that?" He says, clearly trying to distract me from the pain.
I look away from his burning gaze, "Yes, this is the time I think about stuff like that." I let out a shaky breath, "Moments like this are the only time all the voices in my head go quiet."
It's true, all the voices, all the shadows in my head I normally drown in are quiet.
I can feel his eyes on me, a weight on my shoulders that I didn't ask for, but one I can't ignore. His gaze is filled with guilt, sorrow and an overwhelming sense of helplessness. He cradles me in his arms, resting my head on his shoulders.
He's so warm.
"It's okay, it's peaceful." I whisper. It is okay, I have accepted it. It's not like I was planning on living any longer, anyway.
"NO, no, no!" He yells, as soon as he realises he's yelling, does he whisper again. "Don't talk like that, please. You will be okay."
I just nod at him, it's so cold. He sits me down against a wall, his hands on the rim of my shirt. He looks up at me, asking for permission to lift my shirt.
I nod, he lifts my T-shirt. His breath catches in his throat, he grabs his jacket and ties it tightly on the wound.
And as the minutes pass, Kenji keeps working on my wound. I can hear soft begs and prayers come out of his mouth, like his words can defy the worlds cruelty. It isn't perfect, but it stops most blood from flowing out.
"Okay," he mumbles under his breath, he looks around, scanning the area for soldiers. "Do you think you can walk?"
I breath in and out heavily and nod at him. He helps me get up, as soon as I stand, he gently grabs my arm and pulls it over his shoulder for my support.
