Thread: Nothing Can Keep Us Apart. [angelicxdream and shinyka]

The next few moments danced by Eric in mere eye blinks. He was not sure of he blacked out or not, but could not quite tell what kind of state he was in. He felt like there was something welling up inside him, like his grief, sorrow and anger had become physical bodies and were now ravaging him slowly from the inside. He writhed a bit, his agony soon replaced by grief, and then by longing, longing to see Emily again. He found himself lightly murmuring her name to himself, his tone soon becoming hushed under his now heavy breathing. Soon, he found himself quieting down and slumping to the floor, a near lifeless mess of emotion and thought. It can't be her. She's dead. But I'm dead. Can it be her? he found himself thinking unintelligibly over and over again in his mind. Finally, his breathing slowed as he regained control of his now stress weakened body. He turned his head slightly to observe where Emily had vanished to. Much to his relief, he saw her feet reappear, stepping over the broken glass like it was of no concern at all. He let out a small sigh of relief, taking solace in the fact she, or at least her look-alike, was still there, and had no ran off upon seeing him loose control of himself. A warm feeling soon seized control of his consciousness. Eric breathed out a small sigh of content as he felt the warm feeling of a damp cloth grace his forehead, wiping away some of his loosely applied white makeup. Eric paid no attention to this, but instead opted only to focus on the warm feeling, and he soon found control of his previously limp body returning to him. With a bit of a grunt, he wriggled his left hand to ensure he had indeed regained control of himself, and breathed a sigh of relief when he confirmed he still could move, and had not yet once again fallen into the cold abyss of death that he had been pulled out of once before. With another sigh, he turned to face the girl, the one who looked so very much like his dead love to the point he could have sworn it was her, and not some impostor or the like. Impossible, he let out slowly, his breathing now controlled and on tempo yet shallow and reserved, betraying his newly squired weak spell. Y-you died.., he managed to let out before turning slightly, to ensure he got a better look at her. The moment her eyes met his, he felt another wave of uncontrolled thought wash over him, ripping through his every being. Those eyes were the exact same as Emily's the day she died. Full of fear and contempt for passing to the next world, yet still full of her normal liveliness and love, a trait Eric had always found himself adoring in her. Those eyes, the ones that stared at him from bathe the mangled wreck of his car, the ones that stared at him with a sense of impending loss and doom. Yet those eyes, which also carried awe inspiring love and grace, those eyes that Eric would find himself near transfixed by. Those eyes, which had been the last thing he had seen on that fateful day. Just thinking about the day brought back all sorts of erratic memories the screeching of car tires, the one second where it seemed he had an entire world pressed against him. Although it was cold outside, Eric could feel the warm tarmac road and the slightly hot metal fragments of his car burning against his pale skin. With a howl, he threw himself at the ground, striking it with his fists in rage. Yet, even then, the memories continued to haunt him. The light instructional conversation carried between the paramedics, the feel of his limp body being lifted onto a cushioned stretcher. The pale mummer of Trista... that managed to escape his lips before his mind faded to black a final time. Then came newer memories. The memories of just three days ago when he had felt a slight jot of warmth again. The memory of opening his eyes again for the first time in almost three and a half years. The strange feeling that laying on the cold ground at the foot of his gravestone had given him, shortly followed by the odd sensation of separating his fingers from the stitched binding that held them together. He let out a tiny whimper before pushing himself back to his back again, resuming his silent mourning while staring at the deteriorating ceiling. With one last sigh, he turned to face the girl again. I-in the closet, you'll find a w-wedding dress..., he manged to let out, feeling some of his former strength return to him. P-please l-let me see you in I-it, he let out slowly. He wondered if this person was indeed Emily, in the same condition he was in, cursed and reborn. With another series of raspy breaths, he wondered if it was indeed Emily, as seemingly no other person would ever cause him to go into an emotional and physical wreck like he had.