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Khunbam Week 2020

Chapter Text

He turns his head.

When the sun rises and when the sun sets.

He turns his head.

When there is blue, azure, cobalt, and sapphire.

He turns his head.

When he is loved, requested and confessed.

He turns his head.

To stone, to engraved words, to memories.


When he turned his head, it was the last time. The last topaz shine, the last glittering hue. If he knew, he would have whispered, I love you.

When he turned his head, it was true. The smile, the wonder, the adoration. If he was honest, he would have yelled in exclamation.

When he turned his head, blue framed his face. It showered like a curtain and folded like felt. It shone and filtered the moonlight like water and each reflection made him melt. The fair skin is tempered, The blue was bright, honest, and quicker.

When he turned his head, he watched him lose that precious blue. He watched it smile with feelings true, he watched it as it saw his last topaz shine. It crushed and shattered under blocks of rock and he fears the red that spatters with a whine.

When he turned his head, the sky blossomed with roses as dark as night and blurred between lights of red and blue, red and blue.

He turns his head.

When it’s the last time, the last sky, the last breath, the last dream, the last second.

He turns his head.

When he smiles it’s a reminiscence of the blue that forever haunted his mind.

He turns his head.

He thanks the heavens for his last chance.

He turns his head.

And takes his final breath.


5 years ago there was an accident where building blocks fell from their cradles and smashed a body whole. Officially the death was only one, but to those who saw it say there were two. One for the body that gave its own and one for the survivor whose heart cracked with its soul.

They say underneath the rock, laid a lovely blue. Brilliant, precious, and new. Priceless in comparison to jewels with hue and priceless in comparison to the one who loved him true. They say beneath the blue was red that vored like beasts, skinning and prowling and extending out of reach. It would search for its love, search for its gold. They say it stained the hand of the one he yearned to hold.