The man's eyes grew glassy and lifeless like some kind of horrible, demented doll. James hadn't meant to do it, but now, he could never take it back.
His heartbeat quickened, pounding in his chest, robbing him of the cold gasps of air he yearned for. His eyes burned with crystalline tears that threatened to spill, cascading down his pale cheeks, stinging from the knifelike winds.
<em>I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.</em>
The moon was hanging in the sky eerily, reminding him of brighter days, better days where it was Apollo, not Artemis that smiled down, sun-kissed rays covering them both.
Better days where he laughed clear, transcendent laughs, so godly James could've sworn it was ichor that flowed through his bloodstream, not blood. Pure gold flowing from his fingertips, painting with the world as his canvas.
He remembered the saccharine nectar that brought back the taste of peaches, bursting with sweet juice that coated their cheeks.
Love was an odd thing, so convoluted, clouded with invisible particles, obscuring your vision. It was constricting at times, tying him down whilst he yearned for freedom, tethered by his own heartstrings. He'd clawed his way out of its confines, but his captor? It was none other than himself.
<em>Oh.</em>
A burning resentment filled his throat, all the words they'd left unspoken, years of memories, his lingering touch.
Why, why, <em>why, </em>did he let it happen? He knew of the betrayal that James would partake in. Yet his face had remained merry, his smile nothing short of sincere.
He knew, and yet he smiled his divine smile, his voice barely able to conceal the hurt the resonated within his soul, echoing through the chambers of his diaphragm.
He knew and he let it happen.
He let the dagger impale his abdomen, the scarlet red blood that should've been ichor blooming, like a flower, opening its petals to the welcome of the sun.
James stared at his stained hands, then back at the cold, empty corpse.
His eyes, they were still open.
Once upon a time, there had been a boy, his heart full of golden dreams and eyes made to match. Light amber brown, like toasted caramels and wheat fields.
Once upon a time, two boys had promised, their pinkies locking in an all-omniscient gesture of forever.
But as James knelt forward, gently touching his fingers to the pallid lids, he supposed he should've known that his golden boy would be the one to make the ultimate sacrifice for his greed.
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