Herobrine X Reader - Love's Wither Rose (COMPLETE)

18 - Frozen Moments

A/N:
Right so let's play a lil game called "Guess Where Rex Started Writing After Reading A Victorian Era Novel"!

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The glowing image disappeared as Blythe nodded to Johnny. "Have this one taken to the mines; I can deal with him later."

One of the iron golems grabbed Johnny and began dragging him towards the doorway.

In the time it had taken Herobrine to blink, (Y/N) leapt up and shoved something (Herobrine couldn't make out what) into Johnny's coat. Frantically, they whispered a few words to him before another golem dragged them back and threw them to the ground.

At a nod from Blythe, the iron golem once again took hold of Johnny's arm and tugged him along.

"And have these two sent to the cells."

A cold, metallic hand closed around Herobrine's shoulder as he was hoisted onto his feet. He was just about able to keeps his legs underneath him as he and (Y/N) were escorted none-too-gently out of the mural room and past the obsidian cube. Alden followed along behind.

They were led to another doorway that opened up into a winding staircase burrowing downwards. The only light came in the form of redstone torches - bright enough to let someoneone see, but offerung little to nothing in the way of warmth. Herobrine's breath rose before him in small, foggy whisps.

At the bottom of the staircase, they were met with a row of six or seven cells embedded into the left-hand wall. A guttural snarl echoed from one of the further cells.

Herobrine exhaled shakily as he tried flexing his fingers. His Withered arm burned with the cold, and most of the heat he had managed to build up in his handcuffs was by now all but lost to the jaws of the biting chill.

He cast a glance over his shoulder, noticing the blue tint to (Y/N)'s lips despite the dim red glow from the torches. Their (E/C) eyes met his and a wave of guilt crashed into him, threatening to drown him where he stood. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. (Y/N) silently lowered their head to instead focus on the ground. It didn't escape Herobrine's notice, though, the way their eyes lingered on his arm for a moment longer.

A little ways ahead, a door opened with a loud clang and a dragged-out squeak. Alden stood beside the open door, gesturing for Herobrine and (Y/N) to go inside; this was...reiterated by the iron golems all but throwing them both in as the door slammed shut behind them.

It was even darker in here than the stairwell, Herobrine acknowledged. He could just make out the red-splashed outline of (Y/N)'s face as they glared at Alden through the tiny window of the door. Alden disappeared from view for a moment, and a small metal key slid under the gap between the door and the floor.

"For the handcuffs," he said quickly as he turned and marched back to the stairwell with the iron golems in tow.

(Y/N) moved forward to pick up the key, and Herobrine realised for the fist time that they weren't wearing handcuffs - or any restraints, for that matter. Then again, when he took into account their broken arm, it made sense.

They turned back to him, and made their way behind his back. Herobrine heard the faint tapping of metal on metal as (Y/N) struggled to keep their hand steady enough to unlock the handcuffs. Eventually the now-barely-lukewarm circlets fell away and Herobrine found himself subconsciously massaging his wrists where the metal had pinched.

Herobrine lifted his head and was immediately met by (Y/N)'s stare. They held out their good hand (seemingly unaware of the way it shook), and Herobrine haltingly complied to their wordless demands; he placed this Withered hand in theirs, finding a moment's relief from the cooling warmth of their touch.

"You fought a wither skeleton?" (Y/N)'s teeth chattered as they spoke. Then they muttered something else, more to themselves than to Herobrine. "But there's no wound…?"

Herobrine flipped his hand over so his open palm became washed in the redstone torches' light, leaving a dark shadow over where the thorn had sat. "There," he said.

The corner of his mouth curled upwards. "And as much as I'd love to tell you that I fought a valiant battle against a hoard of wither skeletons, I'm afraid I must dissappoint."

(Y/N) said nothing, only raising an eyebrow in prompt.

"Would you believe me if I said Alden pricked me with a thorn from a Wither Rose?"

"Knowing you -" (Y/N)'s tone became quiet, "or, at least, the you I thought I knew - I wouldn't second guess it." They paused, and Herobrine could see just how much they were shivering.

Carefully, he took each of their hands in his, focusing whatever heat he could draw from the torches into his palms. Something would was better than nothing, right?

Suddenly, Herobrine found that (Y/N) had shuffled closer and closer and they were now leaning against him, with his arms wrapped around their shoulders. Their faces were so close now. It would be so simple, so easy, to just lean forward and…

No. He had let his feelings get the better of him for too long, and just look at where they both sat now because of it.

He turned his head, and yet he couldn't bring himself to push (Y/N) away; their trembling form seemed so small and helpless in his arms.

There was so much he wanted to say, but the words hung in the air, frozen. He wanted to find a way to make up for everything he had done, but would they even want to forgive him? He didn't want to think about it.

Herobrine rested his lips atop (Y/N)'s head, and for a brief moment, he no longer felt the chill. He wished he could remain frozen in that moment forever.

Eventually, his eyelids grew heavy, and he - albeit reluctantly - let sleep take over.