The grey sky filled the air with a cold indifference—chilling the bones of anyone who dared to walk through the violent snowstorm raging across the usually idyllic city. Throughout the city, the sounds of emergency services echoed as people were increasingly injured in the quickly fading daylight. Not even the most adventurous of children were playing out in the shifting walls of white snow.
In the quiet empty streets, an old woman pulled her shawl tighter around herself as she stepped out of her house to get the mail. Buffeted by the snowflakes, she picked up the mail quickly and walked back inside, leaving the area once again in silence.
The blade thrust through her purple coat and into her abdomen. She opened her eyes wide in a mixture of terror and shock, grasping the handle of the blade and trying to push back against him. His hand pressed hard into the small of her back; the grip was no longer comforting as he held her close. The snow falling from above mixed with the tears running down her face, falling onto the white blanket below her blue wellington boots.
The sky showed no sign of stopping its snowfall and he showed no sign of removing the blade. His fierce grimace gave her one question but she felt too weak to verbalise and instead mouthed 'why?'.
The corners of his mouth twitched into a brief snarl. "I hate you," he growled.
She gasped, partly due to the pain, and partly because of her punctured lung. Blood trickled down the corner of her mouth as she felt her lungs filling with fluid and breathing becoming harder. "A- Ah- I- I'm so—" She choked on a blood clot, having to spit it from her mouth. Her head hung limp while she gathered the energy to lift it again. "Sorry, Matt," she whispered. She allowed her head to fall back as she breathed out and the pink beanie that had been hugging her head so tightly and warmly fell off. Her auburn hair whipped about in the wind and began to become speckled with the tiny dots of winter.
Matt looked at her with his eyes ablaze; they reflected a polar opposite of the temperature. The shoulders of his black coat were caked with snow and his blond hair flittered about in the gusts of wind. "Why did you have to do it?" He nearly choked on the words.
"I'm so—" His grip loosened on her back and she felt herself slip off the blade. There was no way she could keep standing. Pain tore through her abdomen as she fell into the red snow that was quickly looking like it would become her icy grave.
He crouched down next to her, looking her over.
She reached up to touch his face. He was still the one that gave her butterflies.
With a look of disgust, he moved his face away. "We could have been great." His fists were balled up but he didn't hit her. He never had.
The feeling of drowning began to become almost all she could think about. Sora gasped for air and grasped at Matt aimlessly but he stood up and ignored her without a word. He gave her one last look and then walked back into the blizzard.
"Matt!" she wheezed, trying desperately to tug the blade free from her body. If she took this out, maybe they could forget all this. "Please," she begged. He turned and looked back and she felt her cheeks become flush, hot tears rolling down them.
Briefly, she saw the contempt vanish and that same look he used to give her reappear but it was fleeting.
"I—" She tried to breathe, gulping the air greedily into her damaged lungs, and said, "Still love you, Matt." Her head was now swimming and she allowed it to fall. It was up to him now, all she could do is feel her blood spreading through the once pure substance.
It was now tainted with hate.
Matt reappeared into her view as he knelt at her side and rubbed her cheek with his knuckle. "No, you didn't. Or you wouldn't have said that we need to put a pin in it," he whispered. His singsong voice made the rage all the more terrifying.
She knew why it had annoyed him. There had been lots of talk of her seeing other people behind his back and with the problems he had been having and the therapy he was going through… she shouldn't have pushed him. "I just needed to—" She clenched her fingers into the snow as the pain returned. She had forgotten about it, noting only the ghastly hue that was spreading across her clothes. "Work on my career."
Matt's lip trembled. "Why would you break my heart?" His voice was shaky and it hurt her.
"I'm sorry. Matt, I mean it. I lo- lo—" She felt her eyes glaze over and a strange comforting warmth. It was nice, something that she easily allowed her body to embrace and begin to fade away.
"Sora!" he exclaimed, rousing her from her sleep. He shook her. "Sora! I didn't mean it! It was an accident!" Matt began to shake his head.
She smiled and whispered gently. "Bye, Matt." Stroking his arm feebly, she closed her eyes gently and allowed herself to disappear into the wintery embrace.
"No, No, No!" He looked around. "Help!" Pulling at his hair, he called out "Someone help, please! I need some help!" He placed his hands around the wound, trying to force the blood back in. "Please!" he wailed.
No one ever did come to help him, or her, until they finally took him away. They called it a crime of passion, but how much passion was between the two was questionable as nature performed her burial service that day. His feelings for her were buried with her in the snow that day and he spent the rest of his life wishing she was there.
A little dark but I wanted to also try and make Matt a little sympathetic. Let me know what you thought :)