#imk

SpeedPaint

It is inspired by this song :^

🥀would you look at me like before again?🥀

Night had fallen over the city, but it wasn't just any darkness. The sky was tinged with heavy clouds, and the moon barely managed to peek through them, shedding a dim, cold light that filtered through the alleys. The distant sound of the still-busy streets was muffled by the echo of her own footsteps.

(Y/n) walked alone, wrapped in a silence that seemed to drown out every thought. She hadn't expected to see him there...she wasn't even sure she wanted him. And yet, something had guided her to this point.

At the end of the alley, among the shadows, was him. Macaque.

Not as she remembered him...or perhaps too similar. His figure was partially covered by his red cloak, his gaze fixed on her, motionless, as if time had stood still. The wind barely moved the strands of his hair, and for a moment, it seemed like an illusion.

(Y/n) stopped a few steps away, still not getting closer.

The silence stretched, heavy, uncomfortable. Neither of them spoke, but there was an entire conversation in the exchange of their gazes. Anger, sadness, longing…all mixed together in an instant.

Macaque:…I didn't think you'd come – he finally said, his deep, low voice piercing the air –.

(Y/n) took a deep breath, but didn't respond immediately. She took a step, and then another, slowly, as if each movement might break something fragile between them.

(Y/n): I didn't think you'd still be here – she finally replied, her tone trying to be firm, but still hinting at a hint of doubt –.

Macaque smiled faintly, without joy. Her eyes shone for a second, not with light, but with something deeper…perhaps recognition, perhaps regret.

Macaque: The world is big…but not big enough to avoid you.

(Y/n) lowered her gaze for a moment, her fingers curling into a fist. It wasn't fair that he sounded so calm, not after so much. Not after the distance, the wounds, the words never spoken.

Another silence, this time more charged than the last. Neither of them knew whether to take the next step or back down.

(Y/n) looked at him more closely: his hands were marked, his posture tense. He looked more tired...or maybe more broken.

(Y/n):...You look different – she murmured, not realizing she had said it out loud –.

Macaque: You too – he replied, without hesitation – But you're still you.

And that phrase, simple and direct, struck her like a sudden memory of everything they had been. A part of her wanted to get closer, to touch his face, confirm that he was real... but the other clung to the distance, to the distrust that the years had left behind.

Their gazes met again, more intense than before. The world around them seemed to fade away, and though neither of them said so, they both knew they were weighing every word, every breath.

(Y/n) took another step closer. He didn't move, but his gaze followed her as if he feared she would disappear again.

This wasn't a moment yet for questions or reproaches. It was a moment to acknowledge that, despite everything, they were there...face to face.

🌑-🌑-🌑-🌑-🌑-🌑🌑-🌑-🌑-🌑-🌑-🌑

The silence between them seemed to weigh more than the air itself. The murmur of the wind barely stirred the leaves, and in the background, the distant sound of the sea was a reminder that the world kept turning...although for both of them, in that moment, everything seemed to stand still.

(Y/n) said nothing at first. Her gaze scanned Macaque's face, as if wanting to reassure herself that he was really there and not a mirage. He had changed...his gaze harder, his demeanor more tired, but there was still something undeniably familiar about him.

Macaque, on the other hand, avoided looking at her directly. His eyes wandered over the ground, the shadows around him, anything but those eyes that reminded her of everything she had left behind.

Macaque: I didn't think that...– she began, but her voice trailed off, as if the words were stuck in her throat –.

(Y/n) didn't advance toward him, but she didn't retreat either.

(Y/n): You didn't think you'd see me again...– she finished in a whisper, with no trace of anger, just a strange mix of disbelief and forced calm –.

The wind blew harder, lifting strands of her hair. Macaque finally looked up, and it was like opening an old wound that never healed.

Macaque: I didn't want you to see me like this.

(Y/n): Like how? – she asked, with a slight arch of her eyebrow –.

He swallowed.

Macaque: Changed...with...scars you shouldn't have known about.

(Y/n) watched him for a moment longer.

(Y/n): I never asked for you to leave, Macaque – Her words were gentle, but they hurt like a precise blow – Nor did I ask to stay with questions that were never answered.

There was a moment when he wanted to answer, but all he did was close his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, there was a hint of pain in his eyes.

Macaque: If I had stayed, I would have dragged you into something you didn't deserve.

(Y/n) took a step toward him, slowly, as if she didn't want to break the fragile, invisible line that kept them calm.

(Y/n): That...you should have let me decide.

Silence fell again, but it wasn't so cold anymore. There was something latent in the air, a thread pulling at both of them, forcing them to face the inevitable. Macaque wanted to say so many things—why she left, what he felt seeing her from afar, the weight of everything that had happened with Wukong and the brotherhood—but he couldn't find the right words.

(Y/n) looked at him straight on, without looking away.

(Y/n): I don't know what you did or why... but if you disappear again, at least...— he swallowed — at least say goodbye.

Macaque nodded slowly.

Macaque: I'm not leaving this time.

And even though they didn't move closer, even though they didn't touch, the mere fact that he said it…made the weight on (Y/n)'s chest feel a little lighter for the first time in years.

He looked at her straight on, and for the first time in years, he let the vulnerability show in his eyes.

Until, finally, he broke the stillness. He took a step closer, and his voice sounded low, almost like a whisper that feared an answer: