Angst work 1(258 words)
The gunshot echoed, the impact hurling him backward onto the cold concrete. Blood spread beneath him, crimson seeping into the fabric of his shirt.
Seven minutes.
His vision blurred at the edges, the pain distant—secondary—to the images flooding his mind.
Her.
Her, grinning as she wrestled with dough, flour smudged on her nose. Her, laughing while her brother groaned about their "disgusting" flirting. Her, alive, her eyes bright with defiance even as she bled in his arms.
The rooftop door slammed open—shouting, footsteps, hands pressing against his wound—but he barely noticed. His lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk. Worth it. To see her one last time. Then— Darkness. Silence. Peace.
His eyes permanently closed, eternally memorizing the feel of her lips against his. Then.. He blinked—once, twice—his hands flexing at his sides. The pain was gone. The blood, the rooftop, the wind—all gone. Instead, there was light, warm and golden, and a path ahead lined with towering oaks, their leaves rustling in a breeze he couldn’t feel.
And then— Her.
She stood a few feet away, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, that damn smirk playing at her lips. "Took you long enough," she teased, tilting her head. His breath caught. "...It—.. You..?" She rolled her eyes, holding out her hand. "Who else, dummy?" No anger. No hatred. Just her. Always her.
His fingers brushed hers— And for the first time in months, He smiled. "Missed you." Her laugh was music. "Yeah, yeah. C’mon." Hand in hand, they stepped forward—toward the light, toward peace, toward forever.