[Metal Tsubasa]: 95.The Story of Paris Legal.Almost there

He was almost there, almost there. He could see the door swinging in the breeze, knowing that she never closed it due to her rapid moving life. He was only a few feet away, almost there. His feet moved faster now, faster than he had even willed them too. The door blew to the side just as he rushed up onto the porch, then into the house.
“Lucia!” he shouted, half panting. “Lucia! Where are you?!”
There was silence, and it caused him to continue into the rest of the house. His forest green eyes turned about him. Every window open, every curtain pushed aside to allow the dusty afternoon to flood in. The boards below his feet creaked under his weight. Again he called out her name, which was again followed by silence, and again, and again. Slowly, he continued through the house, hoping that he had missed something, hoping that she was in another room he hadn’t checked. However, as he moved towards the back of the house the boards no longer creaked under his feet, or if they did he had only heard a wet sound instead. Those same green eyes turned towards the ground and found blood, blood that was fresh and had been drawn through the house by someone else’s feet, bare feet.
Cautious steps quickened as they followed the bloody footprints to the back door, which was open. Those green eyes widened as they found bloody handprints about the doorframe and on the doorknob as he exited the house. His eyes would have followed the prints, but there was no need, for he had found Lucia, he had found what he had been searching for. At first he forced himself to stop. It had to be a dream, it had to be, how could it be possible. He forced his eyes to close and opened them again, still there was that same figure, her bloodied dress dancing in the wind, taunting it to claim her.
“Lucia!” he shouted as his feet began to move under him again. “Lucia! What happened!?”
The woman’s gentle blue eyes turned towards him, coming from a face that, perhaps was once innocent, but now completely covered in blood, in her blood. She was smiling, but it was not a smile of joy, it was a smile of lost reason, of that moment that had been too late. Her eyes were empty, her soul already running along with the wind towards that ever-setting sun. “I had to do it,” she told him, moving only her blood drenched lips. “I can’t live… not like this…”
Something rattled at her side and he had to look at what it was. There was her weapon, what she had used to shoot herself before. “No!” he cried. “Stop it Lucia! I told you! We don’t have to do this! We can get out of here! We’ll go someplace where we won’t be bothered!”
“No Paris,” Lucia told him, the gun still held in her hand, “there is no world like that… not here… not for me.”
He didn’t stop her. The gun was fired, the body dropped, the gun dropped, blood splattered the dusty earth. “No…” came through his lips, “no…” then tears, “no…!!!”
There was a sudden jolt and Paris was awake. He looked about to find darkness still, he had forgotten his own blindness. Nonetheless, there was a feminine hand on his shoulder, one he knew to belong to her. “Are you all right?” she questioned, holding Paris’ shoulder tightly. “Did you have another nightmare?”
“A nightmare?” he questioned, half asking himself. He paused and took in a deep breath before speaking again. “Yes,” he told her, “it was just a nightmare. I’m sorry Lilly, you can go back to sleep.”
Still the hand held to his shoulder, as if she were waiting for something more, something else that she had to hear him say. He knew what she wanted to hear, and she knew that he was not all right. His hand found hers in his constant darkness and held it tight, but still he said nothing. “Was it her again?” Lilly questioned. “Did you see her in your dream?”
“Yes,” Paris replied sharply, “she was there… I saw her again.” There was silence so Paris continued. “Since I went blind… all my dreams… my nightmares… they’re all of her.”
How he hated telling Lilly such things, but she always quietly listened, as if it didn’t bother her, when Paris knew it did.