Re:Lyra-Starting Life in Another World (Re:Reader-Lyra Edition)

Chapter 30: R. M. T

Feeling the tingle of light on her closed eyes, Lyra began to slowly wake up.The sensation she felt was very familiar. The smell of fresh, laundered bed sheets and cut flowers filled Lyra's nose as she took a breath in. She could feel just how high-quality the sheets on the bed were from how soft and smooth they were.

Opening her eyes, Lyra saw the familiar ornately-designed ceiling she was familiar with when she would wake up, but only on the first day in the mansion. Her room's ceiling was not as ornate as the one in the guest room. Seeing the ceiling, feeling the bed that was not her, and feeling the same sensation and smells as her first mornings, a squall of fear and sorrow filled Lyra.As if originating from her heart, she could feel the sensation be pumped around all of her body with each heartbeat. Fear, regret, frustration, sorrow, the cocktail of emotions mixed with her blood and spread above his body. All the things she had done right...was it all gone?

Her legs began to shiver slightly and a cold sweat began to develop on her forehead. Shutting her eyes, Lyra fought to keep tears from forming. Lyra just wanted to roll up into a ball and comfort herself, the only thing she could think to cope with the coming dread that felt as if it were diffusing into her very soul. Going to move her hands, Lyra first felt her left hand. Her fingers quivered as she pulled the sheets it held into a loose fist.Her right hand was something completely different. Her fingers didn't quiver in the least, and it was as if the dread in her blood was not reaching that hand at all. Instead, it felt as if her hand was warm. A feeling of compassion and love was present in her hand, keeping the dread from taking over her body entirely. In Lyra's hand, she could feel a softness and smoothness not unlike the sheets, but better, and warmth not produced by herself, but from its own volition. Turning her head, Lyra then opened her eyes more, eager to see what her hand held.

Before her, laid her hand, holding another hand. Their fingers were woven together, tight like a cloth stitch. Eight fingers in total, one of hera, one of the other's, one of hers, one of the other's. In her dread-filled drowsiness, Lyra mustered the strength to try and look up from the owner of the hand she held. Trying to raise her eyes up, up to see just who was being kind enough to show her pity like this, she was stopped before she could fully see for herself.

?: Lyra-chan? Are you awake?

Lyra's body up to that point had been a still puddle, one that had been slowly but surely been turning more and more murky as the dread expanded and took over everything, but at the sound of the voice that spoke to her, a single drop from high above fell onto the puddle, creating a ripple that cleared away all the murky dread that filled Lyra.Looking up at the voice, Lyra's answer to whose voice it was by sight alone was unanswered by the silhouette the person was in, created by themselves from the intense morning light being cast in from the open window behind them. Like an angel, this person was there when Lyra needed them most, at what felt like could be her lowest.

The warmth from the hand she held quickly continued up her arm and purified the rest of her body from the dread that threatened to drown hef in fear and regret. Regardless of what hef eyes couldn't tell her, Lyra knew EXACTLY who it was that was here with her. No one else could ever hope to make her dread disappear as it had. No one else could speak to her in such a calm and reassuring way. No one else could hold her hand this way. No one could look as much as an angel as she did, even if she was a "demon." Looking up to the maid that held her hand, Lyra let het morning voice croak out the name of the person she owed the most to in this new world she found himself still in.

Lyra: Rem.

With the light behind her blue hair subsiding, and Lyra's eyes adjusting, Rem came into full view for her, her warm expression still holding the brightness of the light that was there no more.