"I do", he says as I'm about to take a sip of the glass he just handed me. It all happens in a flash. I see something blue flying past me with unbelievable speed. I see his surprised look. The tears in his eyes. I see the life drain out of him as he tries to reach for the arrow in his chest. I see him fall to his knees. I kneel down next to him, crying. Not caring about the glass of champagne I dropped. Not caring about the broken glass I sit in. Warm tears well up in my eyes. They roll over my cheeks as I take him into my arms.
"Why you?" I whisper in his ear.
His head on my shoulder. His blood on my clothes. His blood in my hair. "Why?" My tears roll over his face as he breathes in for the last time. "I love you, forgive me."
The last words of the person destined to kill me. "I forgive you", I whisper, knowing he heard me before he let go, I sit there. I just sit still. His head on my shoulder. His beautiful blue eyes looking up at the sky. Empty. A dribble of deep red blood running out of the corner of his mouth. The light of the stars made the pool of blood around us shimmer. But that could've been the reflection of the broken glass. My tears and his blood collide, making his the thick puddle a small, almost unnoticeable shade lighter. The ice cold wind tries to drive away the smell of blood and death, but it doesn't work. The smell just got intenser.
I see my hand move. From his side where it held him in place, to his face. His eyes. His blue eyes that stare into nothingness. I close them. I let my head rest on his. I close my eyes. Warm tears still rolling over my cheeks. I'm freezing, but I don't care.
My white blouse has now completely turned red. It absorbed his blood. A small part of it. My black pants stick to my legs. However I'm dressed lightly, my clothes feel so heavy. I don't know how long I'm already sitting here but afterward, it would take about another five hours before my upstairs neighbour would come up to the roof to water his plants. He would find me, call help and grab a blanket from the little shed on the rooftop. He would take me away from the body. He would try to calm me down and take care of me. I wouldn't react to anything. I would just be in a trance. I would be wishing I never fired that arrow.
YOU ARE READING
The Arrow
FanfictionOn my eighteenth birthday I shot a mystic bow that's said to kill whoever is destined to kill me three seconds before they do. Eight years later, it does. The arrow strikes his heart, right when he says "I do."
