[ His breath rattles, thin and uneven, his lungs trying their hardest to keep working despite the fact they don't have the power to do it anymore. His chest feels tight, like he's being compressed slowly; but it's a distant sort of discomfort. Mostly, it's that lightness— and the feeling of Riku's arms around him. The fading out sensation of a heartbeat not his own.
Riku is speaking. He can hear it as the sound, but not the words. His palm comes up under Vanitas' head and that feeling of being held carries him through.
Even being here, with this physical body, he's still everything that he had been before. The Darkness is his chemical make up, and for as swiftly as he bleeds out to nothing, the rest of him starts to crumble around the edges, too. On the brink of consciousness he thinks of the relief Sora had felt, right on the edge, when all the fighting was done— when he gave himself up to his fate. The memory melts into another, like the fingers of dusk reaching covering up the daylight, into that brief moment he'd been complete.
Welcome back. I'm home. We'll never be apart again.
Vanitas exhales one last time and his body goes limp in the cradle of Riku's arms. ]
cw: death
Riku is speaking. He can hear it as the sound, but not the words. His palm comes up under Vanitas' head and that feeling of being held carries him through.
Even being here, with this physical body, he's still everything that he had been before. The Darkness is his chemical make up, and for as swiftly as he bleeds out to nothing, the rest of him starts to crumble around the edges, too. On the brink of consciousness he thinks of the relief Sora had felt, right on the edge, when all the fighting was done— when he gave himself up to his fate. The memory melts into another, like the fingers of dusk reaching covering up the daylight, into that brief moment he'd been complete.
Welcome back.
I'm home.
We'll never be apart again.
Vanitas exhales one last time and his body goes limp in the cradle of Riku's arms. ]