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The boy stared ahead at the white scenery before his eyes. The white snow falling on him and sending cold shivers down his body. His clothes weren't made for this. They were obnoxiously warm during summer but didn't do much to protect him from the cold. Not like he cared. He didn't care. He couldn't. He wish he would care. Complain like always and be irritating to others.
Tears rolled down his cheeks and fell on the snow beneath his feet. The coffin he'd usually have in his back was now shattered on the floor. Wood painted black now on the floor stained with red. So were his black clothes. His face. Despite the overwhelming cold the sensation he felt the most was the warm blood in his clothes, his face, his hands.
It lingers there like a kiss. But a kiss he didn't ask for. A kiss he's disgusted he even received to begin with. And no one is to blame but him.
His hand goes towards his bleeding side and presses it against it. His legs can no longer support his weight with how much they're shaking, so he collapses to the floor. He cries, how much he wished none of this happened. He should have known, he's a servant after all! Servants are supposed to be smart yet here he is. He's so stupid no wonder Lazarus hates him so much. He's young and naive compared to the other servants. He never asked to be a servant to begin with!! Yet he's stuck in that place because he can not bear the thought of leaving them.
Staring at the carcass of his friend lying in front of him, blood seeping through clothes and snow.
How easy it is to paint white red.
He wasn't suicidal or anything, but he wished he could die in that same moment. To stab himself until he bleed out with the knife that was in hid pocket. But as usual, he went against his desires. No one would miss him, who could miss an arrogant and obnoxious teenager who insults everyone the moment he sees them and brings nothing to this world? He's pathetic yet he acts like he isn't
Oh, Servant of the Void. Acting like you got more rights than the average human being despite internally knowing that you got no rights to take your place in the human race
Lying on the freezing ground he hugged himself tightly, stained with blood, the feeling will never truly leave despite how many times he washes his hands, how many times he takes a shower
He'll never forget this.
He'd probably die of hypothermia here! Considering how cold the streets could get during winter.
At least the death would fit someone as cold and gloomy as him. Pushing someone's warmth away so many times he ended up freezing, him being the only one standing to blame.
The place was dead silent, except for his cries which slowly died as he lost consciousness.