[ for bu chonghua, there is a certain ache and a certain aggravation that comes from not knowing. that persistence of his had been branded into him since he was very young, since he was nine, since the night he learned what blood, fire, and fate looked like. if there is something he seeks, there is no staying him while he pursues it. dedication, some had called it. others might call it an obsession, if they were to see it in motion. those thoughts lie cyclical at the bottom of his mind, its acuity unaffected by the deep exhaustion weighing against his bones.
memory presses down on those sedimentary thoughts like watery beams of light, frustratingly obscured. heavy. there is a bigger mystery at hand but its edges are blurred. he sits in this apartment that is not his own in this place that is not his home and there is the deathly chill of something waiting at this strange precipice.
yet he cannot concentrate on it.
bu chonghua sits on one side of the empty bed, gaze unfocused on his own hands. one thumb pushes against the shimmering platinum of the ring on his finger, turning it over and over against his own skin just like the words keep replaying in his mind. "I will love him, cherish him, and be loyal to him..."
"Forever."
exhaling, his chest tightens and he clasps his hands together, pressing them to his creased brow and willing clarity to this unfamiliar helplessness. is this really the edge of forever? this abandoned town with the scent of blood seeping from its every brick, cradled by the sounds of sobbing? every memory of those last moments with wu yu drips into the growing chasm where his gut should be. the pain, the blood, the exhaustion, the turbulent waters full of debris. yet what he remembers most is wu yu's hand clamped to the back of his neck as if he held there anything that was keeping him alive, the melted temperature of his body as it leaked out into that abyss, what little warmth either of them had left in whatever kisses the oxygen left would afford. when he swallows, it feels like lead slides down the back of his throat.
where is wu yu?
Where are you? — that singular thought pounds through him with a strength so profound it makes his muscles hurt. it's that singular thought that draws him to stand, to put on his shoes that he hadn't remembered being in this apartment before to head out into the narrow cobblestone alley leading back towards the plaza. the cream brick and emerald vegetation have been tinted blue by twilight, but even if darkness were to engulf this place, the mounting urgency of go right now consumes any misgivings he might have. he refuses to accept that he has gone somewhere wu yu can't follow and if he has to turn every stone over to prove it...
he would, but his footsteps slow at the mouth to the plaza, the brick still warm with residual daylight. a familiar silhouette plays against it, sharp and dark and so imprinted on his soul that he realizes it wasn't just a hunch, or a chance.
bu chonghua came here knowing who he would find.
and despite how he would chase him to the edge of his earth if he needed to, something in him makes him reach his left hand out instead, voice tight as it carries with a startled, commanding, desperate clarity. ]
semi-arrival semi-wildcard
memory presses down on those sedimentary thoughts like watery beams of light, frustratingly obscured. heavy. there is a bigger mystery at hand but its edges are blurred. he sits in this apartment that is not his own in this place that is not his home and there is the deathly chill of something waiting at this strange precipice.
yet he cannot concentrate on it.
bu chonghua sits on one side of the empty bed, gaze unfocused on his own hands. one thumb pushes against the shimmering platinum of the ring on his finger, turning it over and over against his own skin just like the words keep replaying in his mind. "I will love him, cherish him, and be loyal to him..."
"Forever."
exhaling, his chest tightens and he clasps his hands together, pressing them to his creased brow and willing clarity to this unfamiliar helplessness. is this really the edge of forever? this abandoned town with the scent of blood seeping from its every brick, cradled by the sounds of sobbing? every memory of those last moments with wu yu drips into the growing chasm where his gut should be. the pain, the blood, the exhaustion, the turbulent waters full of debris. yet what he remembers most is wu yu's hand clamped to the back of his neck as if he held there anything that was keeping him alive, the melted temperature of his body as it leaked out into that abyss, what little warmth either of them had left in whatever kisses the oxygen left would afford. when he swallows, it feels like lead slides down the back of his throat.
where is wu yu?
Where are you? — that singular thought pounds through him with a strength so profound it makes his muscles hurt. it's that singular thought that draws him to stand, to put on his shoes that he hadn't remembered being in this apartment before to head out into the narrow cobblestone alley leading back towards the plaza. the cream brick and emerald vegetation have been tinted blue by twilight, but even if darkness were to engulf this place, the mounting urgency of go right now consumes any misgivings he might have. he refuses to accept that he has gone somewhere wu yu can't follow and if he has to turn every stone over to prove it...
he would, but his footsteps slow at the mouth to the plaza, the brick still warm with residual daylight. a familiar silhouette plays against it, sharp and dark and so imprinted on his soul that he realizes it wasn't just a hunch, or a chance.
bu chonghua came here knowing who he would find.
and despite how he would chase him to the edge of his earth if he needed to, something in him makes him reach his left hand out instead, voice tight as it carries with a startled, commanding, desperate clarity. ]
Wu Yu. Come here.