Lucian couldn't tear his gaze away. There she was—Rosa—smiling in a way he hadn't seen in years, maybe ever.
The sight pierced him like sunlight through winter clouds. Her laughter, light and musical, vibrated somewhere deep in his heart. Every small gesture, even the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the playful tilt of her head felt unbearably precious, as if the universe had conspired to craft perfection and then handed it to him, unworthy as he was.
Compared to her, he was born average in every aspect of his life: a normal household, a normal facial structure, a normal physique, a normal job, a normal life.
The only thing that left a lasting impression about him was his hair; it was as white as snow, as beautiful as the moon dancing in the darkness.
His eyes always looked tired, as if they were yearning for a thousand years of slumber. Dark circles painted his pale face like a grown beard under his eyes;
Despite his tired complexion, he had a fine, shaved beard. People may have judged him to be a little malnourished, but the fact was that he could never gain any muscle, or he never even tried.
"Lucian!" she called out, "Stop standing there grinning like an idiot and come help me!"
'An idiot. Perhaps that's exactly what I am—an idiot who would gladly trade every remaining second of his life just to watch her like this forever. If only time would oblige.'
Just as he was lost in his thoughts, a sudden throb of pain invaded his delicate heart, wrenching every remnant of it, squeezing every bit of life out of his mortal remains. The pain grew unbearable.
THUD!
He never heard the crash of his body hitting the floor.
The world narrowed to a crushing weight on his chest, as though an anvil had settled there and decided to stay. Colors bled away. He felt the cold fingers slowly cradle his face into a deep embrace; soft lips pressed desperately against his, trying to pour life back into a vessel that was already leaking.
He had a faint idea of what was happening; emotions swirled all over his body, he had never felt more alive and conscious than at that moment.
Tears slipped down his temples. All of it—the endless nights hunched over textbooks, the skipped meals, the pills forgotten on the counter, the overtime, the apologies he never quite managed to say—crashed over him like a debt finally called in. Just when he thought he could start repaying it, fate laughed and tore up the contract.
With the last of his strength, he forced words through his mouth, a voice filled with sadness.
"Rosa… I'm really sorry. I don't deser….[ARGH!]... "
He felt those cold hands dribbling down his chest ferociously, up and down, trying desperately to make me breathe even for a few more moments.
"Shut up," she choked, tears rained down her chubby cheeks, "Just stay with me, Lucian. I can't li..... You are too naive; you cannot survive without me."
He almost smiled at that—women do cry easily—before another wave of agony erased the thought. The pain sharpened, white-hot, as if his ribs were being pried apart by iron hands. Darkness swallowed the edges of his vision, but the torment remained, loyal to the end.
'Come on, you coward. A few more words. Is that all she gets from you.'
"Erik…" The name scraped out like gravel.
He clawed air into his lungs; every syllable felt like a mountain.
"Darling… protect your mom…ARGH!"
Suddenly, he felt like his body was being shredded into thousands of pieces, every corner of his body was screaming in pain.
Before he could utter another word, the space was drowned in a soundless scream. The pain crested, ferociously shredding muscle and mind alike until even suffering grew tired. Then, mercifully, it ebbed.
The world slipped away. No light, no sound, no touch. Only silence remained in his condolences.
Monday, 1:36 pm, Hawaii
Lucian was gone. He ceased to exist amidst the chaos of this world. Dying with a lot of regret in the arms of his beloved.
****
Time had no meaning here.
There was no heartbeat to count, no breath to measure, no rising or setting sun; only an endless void of nothingness. Lucian floated, if floating was even the word in here, a consciousness without shape or weight. He tried to lift a hand, to clench a fist, to feel anything at all, but the concept of limbs had already begun to dissolve.
Lucian was dissolved into this state of absolute nothingness; he knew he had died, rather, he was sure that he had. He was slowly losing himself in this nothingness. Forgetting all worldly desires.
Still, memory clung to him like the last stubborn ember in a dead fire.
'Rosaline.'
The name alone sent a tremor through the void, the closest thing to sensation he had felt since arriving.
Memories began to rewind in front of his eyes, happy or sad, bitter or sweet. He saw her clearly: twenty-one years old, standing at the edge of the college lake, wind tugging at the hem of her yellow sundress, laughing because he had just proposed to her with a cheap ring and a speech that stumbled over itself. She had said yes before he finished the sentence, then kissed him so hard they both nearly fell into the water.
Then another found memory resonated in the depths of the abyss, Erik: a tiny, red-faced, impossibly fragile slept in the crook of his arm. Lucian remembered the terror of holding something so breakable that if he let go even for a second, the world would shatter the boy into pieces. He had pressed his lips to that downy head and made a thousand silent promises he was never truly able to keep.
Everything after those two moments blurred into a single, grinding ache.
Endless office lights that never dimmed. Trains he slept upright on. Missed birthdays. Erik's first steps while he was on a conference call. Rosaline's quiet "It's okay, we understand," which grew thinner with every passing year. The promotion that finally came, the chance to make everything right, and the fruits of his sacrifice.
He had told himself it was temporary. Just a few more years, just one more milestone, then he would slow down, make it right, be the husband and father they deserved.
Rather, it seems like it was fate that was in love with me.
'How long have I been here? A minute? A century? The void offered no clues, no ticking clock, no fading echo of Rosaline's sobbing. Only the slow, relentless replay of every moment I had traded for a future that never arrived.'
He had all the time the world could offer. It felt like the gods had intentionally put him in this prison of timelessness, waiting for him to confess his crimes.
The agony of losing everything weighed him down, made him drown in despair and anger.
He cursed the god, but the gods did not answer.
He cursed his fate, but the fate remained silent.
He cursed the time; the time was nowhere.
He cursed the absoluteness; it remained motionless.
He cursed himself, and a growl escaped from his mouth, " At the end, I am pathetic."
Suddenly, he heard a voice. It echoed the entirety of the abyss
"Truly pathetic"
BHOOM!
He was shunned by a sudden flash of light that surrounded him. Slowly, he heard hundreds of silent whispers around him. His vision seemed to return; he was surrounded by bright lights in a cranky wooden room. The room was big, like real real big, it was like a giant's abode. Beautiful men and women surrounded him, which faintly blocked the rays of light enveloping him in a graceful spotlight of shadows.
'Perhaps by any chance am I captured by demons or something?'
As he was about to call out for help, he heard an unbearable cry of a baby nearby. He truly wanted to see where it had come from, but he was unable to move his body.
By the time he had realised where he was, a beautiful young lady picked him up and caressed him in her arms.
' WTH! Have I truly become weightless? Of course! It must be the afterlife. How else could a young woman lift a man twice her age?
He slowly stretched his hand in embarrassment to ask her to let him down. Just as he stretched his hand, a sudden shockwave ran throughout his body
'No. No, no, no—'
Fate had not merely killed him.
It had unmade him completely, then handed him back as someone else's beginning.
And the woman holding him pressed a kiss to his damp forehead and slowly embraced him in her hands.
"Welcome to the world, little one."
Lucian's first breath in this second life tasted of milk, smoke, and the bitterest irony the gods could devise.
'WTF!, I am a married man, you b**'