?? | Chishiya x OC | ??
*Currently editing*
"I've always have that thought about you, that I don't want to remember you longer, than I have ever known you."
Seina was never ordinary
unpredictable, an emotional rollercoaster, heartbreakingly beautif...
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE Some thing can't be spoken with words
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♤♡♢♧ Silence.
But not the kind that soothes—not the quiet of peace, but the quiet of something undone. A silence thick with death, with the scent of blood clinging to the air, with the tremor that lingers in weary limbs.
Silence, and death, and the inescapable thought of it. Silence, and death and the thought of how easily it comes. How meaningless it is. How swiftly it can take everything.
For a fleeting moment, it almost felt like something normal—like a quiet evening untouched by blood and fear.
Just the two of them, sitting side by side, Seina's head rising and falling with the steady rhythm of Chishiya's breathing, his fingers threading through her hair.
If she closed her eyes, she could almost trick herself into believing it. Into believing that this was just another night, that the world outside wasn't burning, that death wasn't waiting just beyond the next heartbeat.
But the silence was not peace. It was the silence of absence. Of emptied streets and bodies that would never move again. A silence thick with the weight of everything they had seen and everything they could not outrun.
Chishiya's touch was warm against her hair, almost soothing. Almost. Because beneath it, there was something else.
A hesitation. A quiet kind of urgency.
As if some part of him knew—knew that this moment was borrowed time, knew that if he let go, she might slip away like so many others before her.
The thought sat heavy in his chest, pressing against his ribs like a phantom hand.
Silence, and death, and the cruel inevitability of it.
The way it could come without reason, without fairness, without warning. The way it almost had.
She exhaled slowly, feeling the way his hand stilled against her hair, the way he barely breathed. And then, just as quickly as he realized what he was doing, he stopped.
He pushed her away—not roughly, but firm enough that she blinked up at him, confused.
"The wound," he said simply.
Seina frowned slightly. "Huh?"
Chishiya's gaze dropped to her side, and he reached for the hem of her shirt, lifting it just enough to inspect the bloodstained bandage.
Of course, it had torn open. What the hell did he expect after she jumped out of a moving car?
"Bleeding. Again," he stated, his tone flat. His eyes then flickered downward, taking in her scraped hands, the raw skin on her legs where the pavement had bitten into her.
