Just an artistic Asexual BPD gal...

You shook your head, giving him as warm a smile as you could muster. The sound of your leather shoes was soft beneath that of Lohen’s steel-toed boots, clinking against the stone pavement of Dornman Port as you both ambled along the main path. Today, you had chosen to abandon the wheelchair that you typically took with you on long trips, a routine safety precaution. When you were with Lohen, you knew losing that chair was no issue. He gave you far more endurance than you had on your lonesome, and you knew that he never minded carrying you when you needed it. So you could leave those wheels behind, and pretend to yourself when you were with him, that you were just an ordinary girl.

You wanted to push yourself. After all, this was the last day you’d be able to spend with him before he left for a foreign nation, miles away from you. For as long as you could, you wanted to stand by his side like he always stood by yours.

“...Why don’t we take a break?” Lohen asked, his fingers squeezing your hand. “I don’t mind.”

“No,” you replied, shaking your head. “I want to make it to Millhaven first. Then we can stop.”

“The flowers aren’t going anywhere,” he said, his pace slowing considerably. “We’ve got time, Bun.”

As soon as those words left his lips, he seemed to regret them. He glanced at you, opened his mouth, then awkwardly, clamped it shut again.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

You smiled. Your heart ached, but you didn’t let it show on your face.

“We’ll stop in Millhaven,” you murmured.

He looked into your eyes, hesitating at first; but eventually, he nodded.

He had asked if you wanted him to stay.

“Don’t limit yourself on my account, Lohen. I know how much you enjoy fighting. The expedition will be a great chance for you to do what you love while also growing as a knight.”

He had asked if that would make you happy.

“Of course it would.”

He had his suspicions that you were lying.

“Lohen,” you said, holding a pink Windrest Flower to your chin, “aren’t they beautiful?”

He smirked, nodding in assent. You brought the flower to your nose, and with the most angelic of smiles, took in a deep inhale. Your eyes pressed closed, and with a long, exhaling sigh, you cradled the flower closer. A breeze swept by, sending pink and purple petals along the wind above your heads.

He had finally encouraged you to sit down. With his cape beneath you, shielding your skirt from the grass, you sat with your legs folded at your side. It was a serene feeling, being able to watch you enjoy the outdoors for once, rather than staying cooped inside due to your illness.

The flare-ups had been difficult for you recently. He knew you wanted to spend as much time as possible with him before he left, but he couldn’t stand to interject himself when you needed to focus on healing. Theodore was far better with medical words than he was, and far more adept at assessing your symptoms. Lohen always tried his best to emulate the mannerisms of his old friend, but he could rarely see through your facades. Not until it was too late, and you were either doubled over in pain or passing out in his arms.

He didn’t like bringing it up. You hated your physical weakness more than anything. Even if you smiled and told him it was no big deal, the darkness in your eyes persisted. You didn’t like to rely on anyone. You especially hated being perceived as a burden.

You were no burden to Lohen.

“I wish I could tolerate perfumes better,” you murmured. “These flowers smell lovely. I’m sure they’d make a good fragrance.”

Lohen shuffled across the grass, sitting closer to you. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Bun. You smell plenty good to me.”

You laughed, and with a playful smile, he buried his nose in your hair. Letting out a loud, audible sniff, Lohen subsequently released his breath with an exaggerated, refreshed exhale. Curling his arm around your shoulders, he murmured, “I think this fragrance is my favorite one.”

Your giggles were uncontrollable. He saw how your eyes glanced around, probably making sure that no one else in the flower field was privy to his displays of affection. He delighted in the way you turned to him, and with the shyest of movements, kissed his cheek.

Lohen bit into his grinning lower lip. Squeezing you tighter, he murmured, “Just one?”

You kissed him again, your lips lingering against his skin a touch longer this time. He almost wanted to grab your face and press those lips of yours against his, roll you onto the grass and pepper you with his affections, but he didn’t want to stress you out. When you were overstimulated, your fickle heart gave you problems. You’d get light-headed, and even though you often denied it, he could tell that it caused you pain.

He wished there was more he could do for you. Months ago, when he had finally gathered the courage to tell you his feelings, you had initially rejected him. Your reasoning had broken him.

“I’m so, so happy to hear that, Lohen…I really am…but I don’t think it’d be fair to you.”

You had lamented that you had been afflicted with a heart condition since birth. It wasn’t common enough for there to be a standard cure, and because of that, you were forced to live every day with the knowledge that any could be your last. Your prognosis wasn’t set in stone, but neither was your future.

He had told you that it didn’t matter to him. That you mattered to him.

“…Are you taking pity on me?”

How his stomach had turned when you asked that. He could still recall the way you stroked the arm of your wheelchair, and how desolate that face of yours had become. It hadn’t been the first time a man confessed his feelings to you, but it was the first time that they were genuine.

It made Lohen seethe, thinking that anyone would want to play with that delicate heart of yours.

“Lohen,” you said, your voice softer than the petals of a Windrest Flower.

“Bun,” he replied with a smirk.

You beamed from ear-to-ear, and with the pink flower held to your face, you were ethereal. Those honey-sweet lips of yours moved in perfect harmony when you said, “After you come back, will you take me to Millhaven again?”

His heart throbbed. Kissing the top of your head, he nodded rapidly. He liked when you talked that way—like the future was set in stone. Like you would be there, even if you thought you might not be.

His throat was tight with a dull pain.

“Of course, Bun,” he murmured, trying desperately to ward off his own tears. “I’ll take you to Millhaven. Hell, I’ll take you anywhere.”

“Thank you,” you replied, softer than the morning breeze. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

A tear rolled down his cheek. He hid it in the fluff of your hair.

“Yeah, Bun,” he whispered. “I know you will.”

Oftentimes, you felt like you weren’t enough for him.

“It’s okay,” he had said to you, on that night you thought you could handle. “We don’t have to do it. I don’t wanna stress you out.”

Your flesh craved his. And yet, your body could not handle the weight of your turbulent mind. The last thing you wanted was to flare-up when he touched you, to make him feel guilty for trying to show you his love. You crumbled under the weight of your fears, and Lohen suffered because of it.

He deserved someone stronger. Someone who could keep up with him, join him on those battles of his that he loved so much. Someone who could handle the touch of his palm against their bare skin, without devolving into tears because of it.

Someone who could give him what he wanted.

“Hey, you alright? You look like you’re in pain.”

Theodore, who had visited you once a week for the past few months, set a glass of water at your bedside. Lohen had asked him to keep an eye on you, and you hadn’t realized how much you would come to need it. Your heart had been vile to you lately, making it so that you could hardly go five steps without needing to retreat indoors. For once, you were happy that Lohen was gone. If he were with you, he’d give you those sad, worried eyes again. You hated seeing him so upset over you.

“I’m fine,” you told Theodore. “Thank you for asking.”

Theodore glanced at you. He rummaged through the drawer of your nightstand, pulling out one of your strongest anti-inflammatories, and said, “I think you should take one.”

Your throat tightened, suppressing the dismissive words that you could not say. The ache in your chest was gnawing, and if you continued to let it fester, it would bind you to that bed again.

Theodore passed you the medicine in one hand, a glass of water in the other. You accepted both, giving him an appreciative nod.

“I think that’ll be enough for now,” he told you. “Just make sure you don’t push through the pain, okay? Pain is often a sign of inflammation, which can cause damage if not treated quickly.”

You knew that, but you nodded like you didn’t. Your voice was hoarse. “Thank you, Theodore.”

He nodded. “I’ll be back next week. I’ll bring you Lohen’s letter, too, whenever it comes through.”

Lohen wrote to you once a month. Whenever you cried yourself to sleep, you clung to those letters of his, wishing for nothing more than the comfort of his voice.

Your pain was growing worse. Your fears were growing vaster. But you couldn’t go yet. Not before you saw him again, took his hand in yours, and visited the flowers in Millhaven.

If even for one last time.

“If you need anything,” Theodore said, “just let me or one of the knights know. Don’t try to take it all on your own.”

You smiled. When he spoke like that, you could hear Lohen’s influence in his words.

“I won’t,” you lied. “Thank you again, Theo.”

“No problem. Feel better.”

He waved, and with that, departed. You let out a shaky breath, curling your fingers over your panging heart.

“I’m fine,” you whispered to yourself. “It’s just anxiety. I can get through this.”

For Lohen’s sake, you could get through anything.

Months turned to years. The years stretched on because of his terrible fucking weakness—the way he crumbled beneath the Racher of Solnari—the way he failed you.

“Vice Captain Lohen! You shouldn’t be getting out of bed yet—!”

No, he wouldn’t go a second longer without seeing you. He didn’t care if he was half-conscious, rendered so by the devastating blows he had acquired in Nod-Krai. If pain was his only obstacle, then he would be a coward to stay in that medic bay. You faced pains he couldn’t imagine every day of your life, and you never once complained about them.

When he burst through your front door, shoulders heaving with breathlessness, he saw Theodore on his knees at your bedside, his head turned to the floor.

Ice cold hands gripped at his beating heart. When he looked at you, your eyes were closed, your hand laid to your chest.

“No,” he said, crossing the room, shoving Theodore out of the way, taking your hand in his. “No, no, no. Bun, it’s me. I’m back.”

Your brows twitched. The relief that flooded him made his breath quiver.

“Lohen,” you said, your eyes fluttering open. You smiled at him with those sugar-sweet lips of yours, lips he had dreamed about every night straight for the last five years. “I’m so happy you’re back.”

He smiled, nodding at you. Squeezing your hand, he said, “I’m happy too. I missed you so much, Bun.”

Your eyes closed. Smiling still, you said, “I’m glad. I wanted to see you one more time.”

Relief was replaced by cold, gripping fear. Standing to his feet, he quickly asked, “What are you talking about? You’re fine, Bun, you’re—.” He shot a look at Theodore, barking, “She’s fine, right?!”

Theodore’s eyes were glassy with tears. He brushed his wrist under them, muttering, “I don’t know what to do, Lohen.”

“What the fuck do you…what do you mean?!” Lohen barked, his brows furrowing. “I thought you were taking care of her!”

“Lohen, I—.”

“I fucking trusted you! Fuck, I should have never fucking left—!”

“Lohen.”

Your voice was soft, cutting through his like a knife through a warm slab of butter. The way you smiled at him made his stomach churn, made his knees weak, made him fall to the ground before you, hot tears pouring down his face, and weep.

“Bun,” he cried, squeezing your hand. “Bun, don’t talk like that. You’re fine.”

“I…I’m sorry,” you whimpered, your voice soft and strangled. “I don’t think…I can do it anymore.”

“The flowers,” he sobbed. “I didn’t even take you see the flowers. I got here so fucking late ‘cause I’m—.” His breath hitched. “I’m so fucking weak, Bun. If I had just been stronger—.”

“Lohen,” you said. “This was inevitable. Please, just…just smile for me. Okay?”

“I can’t,” he whimpered, shaking his head, wringing your hand between his palms, hoping he could keep you tethered. “Bun, please stop talking like that. We can go to Millhaven tomorrow. You can pick a flower, and make a perfume. And I’ll carry you if you get tired, and I—I’ll do anything for you, Bun. Please don’t—.” He inhaled a sharp, sobbing breath. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m so sorry,” you croaked, your smile falling to a pained grimace. “I don’t want to hurt you like this. But I can’t do it anymore, Lohen.”

“Yes you can!” he yelled, his voice hoarse with anguish. “You did it for five years, Bun! What’s five more?!”

“Please, Lohen. Please just smile at me.”

He couldn’t accept this. To accede to you, to smile for you, would be accepting this.

“Lohen—.” Theodore tried to say.

“Fucking do something!” he snarled, his throat raw, salty tears and loose snot dripping into his mouth. “Don’t just sit there and look at her!”

Theodore’s teeth grit together, his eyes pressing shut. Slowly, he shook his head.

Rage broiled in Lohen’s chest, his lips loosing his words faster than the sharpest of arrows. “I’ll fucking kill you! Theo, I swear I’ll murder you—!”

“—it’s not his fault!”

Lohen’s head snapped back to yours. Your chest heaved and fell with rapid breaths, your brows knit tightly together. When your eyes met, that expression of yours melted away, your teeth digging into your trembling lower lip.

“Please, Lohen,” you repeated. “Please. Just smile for me.”

Your lips curled up into a grin of your own. You smiled like an angel, and he hated it, because he didn’t want you to become an angel, you were his fucking angel, and he—.

“Okay,” he sputtered, lips twitching into a smile. “But if I do this, you have to stay.”

You lifted your hand to his cheek. He felt the brush of your thumb along his eye, right along that mole of his that you loved to kiss first thing in the morning. He had spent five years waiting for you to kiss it again, and he wasn’t about to go five minutes more without it.

“Kiss me,” he begged.

You nodded. He leaned closer, you kissed his eye, and with your hand tucked to his chin, you tilted his face up.

Your kiss tasted like his tears.

You couldn’t let that be his last memory of you.

“I’m tired,” you said weakly.

“Then sleep,” he answered, sniffling through his smile. “I’ll stay with you. I’ll hold you, if you want me to.”

You smiled. “I think I’d like that, Lohen.”

You were fine. You’d be fine. You had waited five years for him, and you wouldn’t look him in the eye and tell him that all that time was wasted, that instead of fighting stupid monsters across Teyvat, he could have been here with you.

He should have been here with you. He should have never fucking left you.

“I’m here,” he whispered, nursing your hand between his. “Let’s go to bed, Bun.”

Theodore slipped out, the front door clicking shut behind him. Lohen rose to his feet and clambered onto the mattress. You rolled onto your side, allowing him to tuck himself against your back, and with a sniffle, he reached over to grasp your hand tightly in his.

“I love you,” he said with a smile.

You let out a soft laugh. “I love you, too, Lohen.”

Your eyes fell closed.

Lohen weeped.

The call of the morning songbirds cut through the glass windows. There was a stillness in the air, one that was stifling and morose.

You woke up.

“Oh, God,” Lohen gasped behind you, his voice sounding strained and hoarse. “Fuck, Bun, don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“I…” you trailed off, your eyes catching the light of the sun through your bedroom window. Outside, you saw a pair of birds sitting along the branch of an old tree, staring at you with their heads cocked in opposite directions. As soon as their beady eyes met yours, they flew away.

“I’m…sorry,” you said slowly. “I thought I…I really didn’t think…”

Lohen turned your face back, crushing his mouth to yours. You tasted the salt on his tongue, felt those hot tears of his drip onto your face. Your heart was hammering, but it wasn’t pain that drove it into your chest. For reasons unbeknownst to you, you felt as though you could handle anything and everything, right then and there.

Was it the fact that you thought you couldn’t, but you did? Were your fears of death and dying unfounded? Did you really stand a chance?

Could you continue to be there for him?

“I love you,” Lohen said between kisses, sloppy and warm. “I love you so much. I’m so fucking happy you woke up.”

When he pulled away from you, you noticed the gaunt bags under his puffy red eyes. You had made him suffer over you again.

Your lower lip trembled. Feeling a tear roll down your face, you whimpered, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He smiled, pressing his forehead to yours. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. Except…maybe one thing.”

“One thing…?”

He grinned with his teeth, closing his eyes, which dark circles sat beneath. When he moved his head, the metal emblem dangling from his ear swayed, and in the most endearing voice you had ever heard, he said, “You didn’t kiss my mole yet.”

Your heart was fit to burst, but for the first time in a long time, that feeling did not paralyze you with fear.

“Come here,” you crooned, batting your eyelashes at him. “Let me kiss you all over.”

He let out a cheeky sounding giggle, and when your lips touched the birthmark studding his cheek, he squeezed your hand harder.

“Kiss me all over, huh?” he asked playfully.

You laughed.

“Yes, Lohen. I’m gonna kiss you all over.”

Slowly, Nicole sits at her kitchen table. With a fond smile, she stirs her tea, letting the sugar dissolve into the hot liquid within.

“Sweet child,” she thinks aloud. “It is not yet your time to become an angel.”