Ｈｏｕｓｅ Ｏｆ Ａｌｔｅｒａ || 【ᴀᴏʙᴀ ᴥ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀ】

XI. Passing

After Clear and I had propped furniture against the door frame, sanitized as much as we could manage, and done what we could to put limitation against the door's accessibility, hesitantly we sunk down onto the bed. The House was awfully unhappy, it continued to creak with agony and Clear look over to me with a brief fleeting smile. I buried myself under the blankets, and stuffed my head into the pillows. I wanted to believe that everything that just happened was a bad dream. But in the corner of my mind the crimson tint to the floor told me otherwise. I breathed out a cloud of vapor, the previous events making me unaware of the deathly temperature supplied by the House. Clear nestled down behind me, and wrapped his arms securely around my stomach, pulling me to his chest.
"Mph.."
"Please get some rest, Aoba-san. You've had a terrible day."
I pursed my lips in a pouted expression, and I felt him smile lightly against the back of my neck.
It gave me a sense of relief, and I placed a shaking hand against his arm. His chest rose and fell against me, his muffled heartbeat letting me know he was still there. It hurt knowing that I couldn't do anything for Clear. He was slowly fading away. Even if I failed to notice it, his faltering features sent me a grim reminder. My fingers slowly intertwined with his, and my exhaustion caught up with me.
When I thought morning had stricken me to reality, I realized I had fallen into another dream. My fingers reached out to gather fragments of wallpaper, as I looked around the room, I was alone. Clear was nowhere to be found. Getting to my feet, I looked down to see the floor was maliciously destroyed, barely any planks remained. Carefully stepping out of the room, I could barely breathe. The dust parching my breath craned around me, and I had entered an entirely different location. It was something reminding me of a wine cellar, but upon entry I realized otherwise. These were catacombs.
Brushing my fingers against the mold tainted stone, I looked up to admire the ancient designs. But I could hardly feel any relief over the presence of the dead. Turning, I read names printed above caved in corridors on the right side.
'Meloni Altera'
'Cartano Altera'
'Alpha Altera'
'Alphan Altera'
I stopped at the last name, my throat awfully dry. I traced my fingers against the name tag.
The tomb was empty. But oddly enough, it had two places for burial in one room. Above it, it read 'Clear Altera.' I had guessed that these at been prepared at the announcement of birth, which was saddening. As a child you would know your funeral was already booked. You'd have to pick out your clothing you'd wear when you would be buried five feet under. It seemed all gloomy to me. Footsteps reverberating from behind me caused me to jump, and I whirled around to the unexpected. A lamb. It stared back at me intently, and my vision began to blur.
Sleep had never been satisfying anymore, dreams were never welcoming. The only thing that truly kept me awake to this House were these arms pressed possessively around my waist. The daylight peeked curiously into the room, and shone dully against the crested windows. I felt Clear shutter in his sleep, and the House let out a soft whir in return. He truly was mysterious, for even this House stopped to listen when he spoke. It made me giddy knowing this, knowing Clear was special. Yet the pain stirring in my mind did not subside, for I knew I had little time to appreciate him. I laid awake, staring at the wall and thinking of Clear. It was all this House had to offer to waste my time away, even if it held a hefty grudge against me. Living so long in the city has taken a toll, and I start to imagine the swift breeze as cars shimmer by, the bright ringing of the passing lights. It really feels like I've been gone for so long, away from everything I knew. But maybe I've just been so occupied on making every day count, with Clear. If I hadn't met him, I'd still be some no life spitting my time on bets and pointless experiences. I was a nobody. I lived with my Granny, who seemed gruff at heart but she truly did care. She sent me here hoping I'd find an interest in the job field, but nothing had came to mind. All I can think of now is making everything last. While Clear can still speak with me, while I can still hear his vibrant true heartbeat. He was always like that.

Clear has always been..
Someone important to me.