Dream ♠ oo4
[First half of the payment for the City Pass]
A pink-haired girl stood, scars littered all over her body and her face blank. Dominic sat on the ground behind her, in a position that indicated he'd been pushed just a while ago. His hands clenched into fists, one holding onto an injector, before he cried:
"But all the scab pieces were removed, so, in all probability, those scars will heal too!"
He paused, before adding quietly: "... I won't leave you alone anymore. I'll protect you..."
The girl was silent for a moment, before her mouth turned upward, and she began laughing.
"What can you do?" she shouted, still laughing. "What, buy me a cake?"
Recognizing this as a bad sign, Dominic stood up. "Ane--"
Before he could finish his sentence, the girl's arm lashed out, clutching his neck, and she shoved him to the ground. The injector slipped from his hand, the glass tube shattering when it hit floor and spilling the dark liquid inside it. She straddled him, glaring.
"What am I...? What is that injector filled with? What kind of body has scab growing out of it?"
Flashbacks of finding her, surrounded by the scab, ran through Dominic's head, but he stayed quiet. Good thing too, because the girl wasn't done yet, apparently.
"What does he mean by imitation?" she continued. "You know the answer, yet you won't tell me, right?"
What she said next struck the hardest: "You're the worst..."
Dominic didn't know what to say to that--it was all true, after all--so he settled for protesting futilely. "... Anemone, I..."
Once again, she interrupted him, and gave him an almost curious look.
"Why don't you just die, Dominic? Everytime I see you, I feel like vomiting."
He stared at her, his eyes wide, although whether it was because he couldn't find the right words or simply because he couldn't remember how to speak, he didn't know. All he could think was, I'm sorry, but he knew such words would mean nothing to her. In the end, there wasn't anything he could say that would make a difference. She'd always hate him, and that was what hurt the most.
It was times like these that he knew what they meant, when they said that being in love was painful.
------
[Dominic wakes up, again with a frown. It's not the dream that really bothers him, but... he just misses her, badly.]
A pink-haired girl stood, scars littered all over her body and her face blank. Dominic sat on the ground behind her, in a position that indicated he'd been pushed just a while ago. His hands clenched into fists, one holding onto an injector, before he cried:
"But all the scab pieces were removed, so, in all probability, those scars will heal too!"
He paused, before adding quietly: "... I won't leave you alone anymore. I'll protect you..."
The girl was silent for a moment, before her mouth turned upward, and she began laughing.
"What can you do?" she shouted, still laughing. "What, buy me a cake?"
Recognizing this as a bad sign, Dominic stood up. "Ane--"
Before he could finish his sentence, the girl's arm lashed out, clutching his neck, and she shoved him to the ground. The injector slipped from his hand, the glass tube shattering when it hit floor and spilling the dark liquid inside it. She straddled him, glaring.
"What am I...? What is that injector filled with? What kind of body has scab growing out of it?"
Flashbacks of finding her, surrounded by the scab, ran through Dominic's head, but he stayed quiet. Good thing too, because the girl wasn't done yet, apparently.
"What does he mean by imitation?" she continued. "You know the answer, yet you won't tell me, right?"
What she said next struck the hardest: "You're the worst..."
Dominic didn't know what to say to that--it was all true, after all--so he settled for protesting futilely. "... Anemone, I..."
Once again, she interrupted him, and gave him an almost curious look.
"Why don't you just die, Dominic? Everytime I see you, I feel like vomiting."
He stared at her, his eyes wide, although whether it was because he couldn't find the right words or simply because he couldn't remember how to speak, he didn't know. All he could think was, I'm sorry, but he knew such words would mean nothing to her. In the end, there wasn't anything he could say that would make a difference. She'd always hate him, and that was what hurt the most.
It was times like these that he knew what they meant, when they said that being in love was painful.
------
[Dominic wakes up, again with a frown. It's not the dream that really bothers him, but... he just misses her, badly.]