#ajdgsksj thank u again!! <3

[florvinhara]

❣ !! :D (😘❤❤)

agskdgsks thank you SO much!!! 💖💖💖 (both for the prompt AND for screenshotting/resending ahjdhdjs) hope you enjoy!

a dying kiss (the detective dies pre-love confession)

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There's so much blood.

Enough that it paints the air with a misty red haze, enough that Adam can taste it there, metallic and cloying, making his head spin from the sheer quantity.

It belongs to both his team and their enemies, and now that the battle is won- of course it is- he will go around to each member of the unit, assess their injuries and memorize each one as if he had borne it himself, watch the wounds heal. It is a sequence of events he is all too familiar with, but he is not overly fearful for the safety of his companions; they are strong, protected by experience and the nature of their existence. Except for-

As he scans the battleground, searching, an entirely different scent surrounds him, an intoxicating, heady smell that makes dread weigh his heart down like an anchor. And then he sees her, fallen in a halo of her own blood, and any vestiges of pride he had felt at their victory freeze into icy terror.

He's at Luna's side in an instant, hands hovering uselessly before he pulls her closer, into his arms like he can belatedly shield her from harm. 

Her eyes flicker open, breathing shallow as if it takes enormous effort for her to focus her gaze on his face. Relief battles everything he knows about mortal wounds; a foolish hope that eclipses reason cascades over him, and he allows it. 

Luna looks at him, eyes sorrowful but accepting, full of an emotion he cannot bear to name in this moment. "Adam," she says weakly, "I-", and a fit of coughing overtakes her before she tries again.

He knows what she intends to say, the words that have been filling the space between them for months. But to hear them now, of all times- “Don’t say it,” he pleads, begging for the first time in hundreds of years. “Not like this.”

"Adam," she murmurs.

"You can tell me later," he promises. An unspoken just stay alive hangs in the air.

“Okay,” Luna whispers. “Later, then.” It is a final kindness that she allows them both, to imagine a world where there will be a later, to briefly escape the heinous reality of these last moments in a place where the force of Adam’s will is enough to save her. And god, if it were- if it were.

As in, it is not.

As in, he is helpless, and he feels the sickening noose of it tightly around his throat.

As in, each slowing beat of her heart is mercilessly counting down the minutes, the seconds they have left, and after 900 years he never envisioned having too little time.

"Hey. Come here?" Luna asks, reaching up to him. Anything, he thinks, leaning closer into her space, relishing the feel of her hand on his cheek, though his heart wrenches at how cold her fingers are. Tilting up, she presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, softer than he deserves and unbearable in its brevity. "Later," she starts, then pauses with a wince. "Later, when I tell you-" her words are hurried, gasped out as if each one costs her immeasurably. "I'm gonna go all out. Fireworks, doves. It's gonna blow your mind." 

She is trying to make him laugh, even now, and he cannot bear it, pressing his forehead to hers and closing his eyes so he does not have to confront the future that has been torn from them. Distantly, he hears a quiet exhale, feels her hand slip from his cheek, recognizes the heavy absence of her heartbeat in his ears, and when he pulls back to look at her, she is gone.

"No," he demands, orders, implores. "No, come back!" But his words, too loud in a world that is so horribly quiet without her, fall on unhearing ears. A familiar darkness encloses his heart like iron chains, but it is so much worse now that he has known the light.