How could this happen? Why did this happen?

Nothing makes sense.

One minute it was all hope, everything seemed to be over and, before he knew it, nothing was worth it anymore.

In a bed of multiple Sindrian flowers lays a single female, her (h/c) hair gracefully adorning her face, some locks testing over her shoulders. Her (e/c) eyes long ago closed, (s/c) paler than never and her body is wrapped in beautiful typical clothing.

Next to the coffin stand various people, those who loved her more than they can possibly explain.

Yamraiha sniffles as she cries in her hands, Sharrkan hugging her in comforting manner.

Pisti was kneeling in the floor while sobbing, Spartos quietly standing next to her while presenting his respects to the deceased.

Masrur stands by the casket, solemn expression hinted with pain, Drakon and his wife both place flower bouquets and Hinahoho stands with his children.

Sinbad was standing in the oposite side from Masrur, his eyes red and puffy from crying, you were his best friend after all.

The purplette king turns from you to his now main concern: Ja'far

The advisor for the first time in years didn't seem to care enough to wear his kaffiye, his tangled and messy white hair at the sight of everyone. His already pale face was ghostly by this point, almost the same as the one you now had, and his eyes where dull to say the least.

Why did this happen? How? It was too fast... It all happened too fast for him to stop it...

Sindria had been attacked, war had broken loose and everyone who knew how to joined the fight.

"Sin! We have to move the citizens somewhere safe! The buildings are falling apart!" Yelled Ja'far, his darts falling from a recently killed man's back. War was over by now, the only problem left was safety.

The king turns to him, nodding, "Start telling them to head back to the palace! We'll take in as many as we can" he instructs.

Ja'far nods and runs off, heading to the closest group of refugees to explain the situation.

"Ja'far!"

The white haired turns around, stopping as he spots a certain (h/c) haired.

"(Y/n)! We have to move the refugees" he says, the (e/c) eyed nodding slightly.

Then, it all happened too fast...

Ja'far's eyes widened, hearing the sound of a gun being fired and, before he could turn to the source, (y/n)'s eyes widened.

The white haired felt dizzy, his mind was spinning faster than he could process and, before he realized what had just happened you where falling.

Everything seemed to a blur starting from when he kneeled by your side, holding you and telling you to hold on. He couldn't hear his own voice but somehow knew you did.

Blood.

His hands where covered in blood, your blood.

His eyes widened as he screamed at you to stay awake, but you just smiled at him, your lips moving but he couldn't hear your voice over the loud shriek in his ears.

The funeral was beautiful and sad, many tears where cried and many words spoken, by everyone but Ja'far.

The white haired said nothing, he just sat by a chair next to your coffin, his eyes blank and dull as he stared at the ground for hours.

When people would step closer to him and give him their condolences it was nothing but a shriek in his ears, he heard nothing, it felt as if he was the deceased.

Why did this happen?

The same question hunted his mind,the image of you being held by him playing over and over in his head, the image of you moving your lips but he heard nothing.

A few days had gone by, everyone was back to their work, Sindria was still pulling itself back to before the war but the progress was undeniable.

In a dark room Ja'far lays in his bed, Sinbad sitting in a chair next to it.

"Ja'far, please... I- I need to know..." Begs the king.

In the days that had gone by since your dead Ja'far hadn't moved a single finger, he barely ate and just drank water because he was forced to. Sinbad had offered him to drown his sorrow in alcohol out of pure despair. He refused with the usual silence.

//There's nothing to tell...//

"Ja'far..." Calls the purplette, the white haired, who was facing away, not even flinching in reply.

"Ja'far!" Yells the king, getting ahold of his shoulders and forcing him to turn around and look at him.

"You need to snap out of this! She- she's gone!" Cries the amber eyed.

For the first time Ja'far's lips crack, "My hands..." He whispers, Sinbad looking at him in confusion.

"My hands are covered in her blood..."

It was true, he had forgotten how hard it is to get blood off his hands, he had washed them desperately but the blood was still visible in his pale skin.

Sinbad's eyes widen, hugging his general closely.

"I know" he cries, Ja'far simply letting him do as he pleased with no reply whatsoever.

"I need to know, Ja'far... I need to know... Did she say anything before she died?" Shakily asks the tan skinned.

The scene of your lips moving replays in his mind. He shakes his head no.

A couple more days went by, the white haired advisor would still not leave his room, instead, he had managed to get a servant to bring him endless piles of paperwork to do.

The advisor had mentally refused to cry, he had locked his feelings deep inside himself and would talk and do nothing but work. Grieving wasn't in his schedule.

Every night the scene of your final moments would hunt his dreams, preventing him from any sort of rest. He was going crazy.

Two months had gone by. Ja'far had passed out because of exhaustion and malnutrition, he was currently out cold in an infirmary bed.

Even now Ja'far can say without a doubt that passing out was the best thing that could have happened to him, he regretted nothing, that's because while unconscious he had a dream. More like a memory actually.

The same old scene of your death only that, this time, he could hear it cristal clear.

It was closure for him and, finally, he let himself cry until he couldn't anymore.

"(Y/n)! Don't close your eyes, okay?!" He pleads while holding you closely, struggling to apply pressure in the sound in your chest that the bullet had caused. You smile.

"Ja'far... Look at me" you basically wheeze, you knew you where dying.

The desperate albino looks at you, his and your eyes locking.

"Ja'far, I love you, okay? You have to promise me something" you say, struggling to spit out the words as your vision slowly starts to darken.

"No! You're not going to die so don't talk like-"

"Ja'far, you have to promise me something"

"..."

"Promise me you'll live... That you'll be happy, okay? I- find someone else to love, live Ja'far, promise me you'll live"

"I can't find someone else! (Y/n)! Don't close your eyes!"

"Promise me, Ja'far, okay? I need you to live... You'll be fine, I promise"

"I won't! Don't leave me!"

"I love you"

"I love you too, so, please! Hold on-"

"Please promise me..."

"...I promise... I love you..."

"I love you too... goodbye, Ja'far... Live

Until we meet again"

💠💠💠

Shiro:... Don't kill me please XD

I'm sorry, Kay? ;-;

I've just been reading too much fanfic recently and... I felt dark...

But, come on, we all can see it clear as daylight:

I suck at writing sad and dark stuff

I suck writing in general but this stuff isn't my strength XD at least I tried!

Thank you guys for everything!

SEE YAA!!!