Lips painted in rouge, soundlessly whispering words that he could not hear.

Wine of the most luscious, undiluted hue, spilling over the brim of its glass like a waterfall.

Hundreds of rose petals, fluttering to and fro in a beautifully terrible chaos.

Red, red, red, in all of its glory.

The imposing color seized and conquered over all of his senses like masses of earth pressing down on a corpse buried in its grave.

But a shallow, ragged breath fled his dry lips and the exhalation detonated excruciating pain in his lung, violently pulling him out of his morbid oblivion. The strength in his body dissipated, all popping and vanishing bubbles of sea foam. A pair of hands grasped tightly around his shoulders, but his body slowly slid down to the ground.

Wet. Warm. Slippery. Heavy.

Eyes wide in shock and disbelief, Sehun cradled the limp figure in his arms, feeling the warm fluid coat his hands and seep through the fabric of his clothes. The sickening stench of blood warped his senses to the point that he just wanted to sprint away from this horrible scene of destruction; everything in his vision glistened crimson in the paradoxically cheerful sunlight, and it was just all too appalling, all too cruel.

“L-Luhan…” His voice was taut with devastation and alarm.

The said man blinked slowly, his eyelids closing and opening tiredly. Every cell of his body ached agonizingly like those dreadful mornings after a severe beating and the searing, splitting pain in his chest was all too excruciating for him to register what he was seeing. But he glanced down at himself and recognized the dagger plunged into the center of his chest, heaving up and down with his uneven breathing. Rivers of red gushed generously from the ugly wound, Sehun and his bodies just a lonely island in the glossy, scarlet sea.

Sehun.

Luhan gazed up at him with hazy eyes. Sehun’s handsome face was freckled with red droplets and his regal attire was drenched crimson.

Oh.

Mei hated that color.

Oh.

All this red, was all his blood.

He gazed at Sehun, his face as hard as granite stone as he tried to lessen the bleeding with his free hand that wasn’t supporting Luhan’s upper body. Luhan wondered if he was mad; mad that he was being covered by this horrid color that Mei hated, mad that Luhan couldn’t save her enough on time. (In reality, Sehun couldn’t forgive himself for not being able to protect her and preventing Luhan’s death.) Luhan watched his blood gush out from between Sehun’s fingers and listened to his distant voice call for a doctor, but Luhan knew it was useless---he knew he was dying.

He coughed. Thick blood erupted from the back of his throat and dribbled down the corner of his lips. With that, hot tears also tumbled down from his eyes. Death---it was so dreadful and terrifying and devastating and regretful, looming right over him and limiting the number of seconds he had left on the clock.

Luhan didn’t want to die; he wanted to see Mei smile once more. He was sorry to Sehun that he had always been the disruptive nuisance between them and was shameful that even his last wish was of his girl that rightfully belonged to Sehun by law and by heart, but was this not his last wish?---the last gem of hope that would shine through the pitch-black gloom of death before he would return to dust, be forgotten by the ones that kept him in their memories, be wiped clean from this wicked universe’s slate of history.  

With the realization, Luhan chose to see this color of red not as the courier of expiry and the visible manifestation of sin that it inevitably was, but instead as the beautiful hue of love and passion. His decision to fight against Kris was fatal and pathetically blinded by his one-sided devotion to her, but Luhan didn’t regret it at all. Mei---she deserved a chance to taste happiness and she deserved to see more of the beauty that bloomed from her and Sehun’s intertwined hands, and all of that was more than worth the price of his own life. Despite the numbing, overwhelming pain that tugged him back and forth between reality and delirium, the corner of his lips tugged into a small smile.

“Luhan---Luhan…”

Sehun watched him wheeze desperately for each breath, choking on his own blood that gurgled up his throat. The partisan was dumbfounded---devastated by this overwhelming scarlet, pooling around his knees and violently painting their bodies, but he understood the reason behind the dying man’s smile painfully well in his own aching heart.

Because he loved her too.

“I-I’m sorry, I-I couldn’t save her on t-time,” Luhan sputtered.

Sehun shook his head fervently, the words stuck to the walls of his throat like tar. Thank you. Thank you so much. She means the world to me. I’m sorry I failed to protect her. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you either. I-I really am,  he wanted to say, but his mouth was as immobile as dead weight.

He owed so much to this fallen angel who had bravely sacrificed himself for the sake of another exquisite, broken angel that he knew was not his, but Sehun’s, by law and by heart.

If love were a game competing which man loved her most, Sehun would certainly never lose or back down. But with his opponent dying---horribly soaked in his own blood and staring up at him with doe eyes filled with fear, pain, and so many uncountable emotions that would never be given the chance to be spoken---there was no relief nor triumph in being the one last standing, but only the added weightiness of Luhan’s wishes entrusted on his shoulders. There was only the shared pain, understanding and respect for this man who had loved her as much as he did.

“Luhan…”

“M-Master Sehun, you---” With a horrible cough, droplets of blood splattered across Sehun’s face as Luhan gagged and struggled not to drown in his own blood. The crimson fluid ran down the sides of his mouth as he barely managed to wheeze, “P-Please, please take c-care of her. D-Don’t l-l-let her go.”

Sehun nodded, a red bead of blood dripping from his chin.

“She---she really loves you.”

And Luhan smiled. A crooked, torn, beautiful smile.

His love for Mei was as pure as fresh fallen snow, untainted by lust or vanity. Luhan had yielded his own desires because he had glimpsed how exquisite and substantial their love was---a miracle borne amidst the most cruel of fate’s devilry. True love was like the diamond of Hortensia to Luhan, showcased beyond his reach and too majestic for him to dare touch it with his dirt-caked hands. He adored it and desired it, but above all, respected it, so he had taken the only duty that he could bear and had sworn to protect it---he had become the guardian angel.

When he had caught news that Kris had taken her, Luhan hadn’t thought twice; he had an unignorable feeling that this would end up as the final straw for them---both Sehun and Mei. And he was right, because when he had barged into that forbidden room, he had found her being devoured by that damned demon, weeping and and vulnerable and broken and holding the sharp tip of a fountain pen against . Her silent screams had shattered his bones, and Luhan had known right then and there that he could not allow them to be massacred by such sinful claws.

And now with the icy, foul fingers of death encircling his drained heart, Luhan was full of a wistful bliss, because he prayed, hoped, believed that Mei and Sehun would find their happy ending together.

Death was a cruel, cruel thing for all. But for Luhan, it was a gift, because he did not have to witness their ending that was so terribly far away from happy.

He smiled and closed his eyes. 

Hello~ I am very sorry that I hadn't updated for such a long time, and also that this chapter is quite short

But I am very curious to everyone's reactions to Luhan's death: are you guys happy that the nuisance is finally gone, or do you guys actually feel sad :'( like me...poor LuLu...

Thank you so much for reading & I hope you enjoyed!

And if it's not asking for too much, please spare just another 30 seconds to drop by a comment? :D I would greatly appreciate it<333

thanks!