Izabella was afraid of the cold, but she passed away during a snowy winter. She was afraid of pain, but she endured two hours in a raging fire.
Brett's face was icy cold from the chilly wind. He knelt on the ground, tightly gripping his charred wrist. His body trembling violently as he choked out Izabella's name over and over again. Tears mixed with the blood in his mouth and throat.
He once heard Izabella say that blood and tears tasted bitter when they mixed in the mouth. He didn't believe it, but now he knew the taste of it and cried even harder. However, Izabella had tasted this bitterness for seven years.
Izabella, Izabella...
No matter how much he called out, she who lay on the ground would never respond again.
Brett pulled his hand away from the cat that was biting it. Niki tumbled to the ground as it ran out of energy. Its beautiful eyes were half-closed, and it gasped weakly, trying to stand but collapsing repeatedly, with all four limbs no longer functioning.
Covered in blood, Niki lay limp and burnt, like a scorched toy. It weakly watched Brett try to clean Izabella's face with trembling hands.
The once neat and beautiful Izabella now had half her face ruined. No matter how much Brett tried to clean her face, the burnt part was like a rotten piece of flesh.
Izabella liked snowfall. On the day she died, it snowed heavily in J City for the first time in six years. Brett's head was suddenly covered with snowflakes like feathers.
Blood from Izabella seeped into the snow, making it red like a sea of fire. The contrast between white and red was striking.
Brett choked on his words, unsure how to hold Izabella, and knelt down to hug her while crying bitterly.
Tears dripped on Izabella's face, which Brett wiped away before bending down to kiss her cold lips. Izabella's lips used to be warm and soft but were now dry and cold.
Brett's throat tasted sweet and metallic, and blood from the corner of his mouth tainted Izabella's pale lips. He held her for a long time, kissed her, and kept saying "I'm sorry." But Izabella remained quiet, no longer able to respond.
The firefighters on the scene watched the man kneel on the ground, heartbroken at Izabella's death. Although they had seen many sad farewells, the sight before them still brought tears to their eyes.
A kind-hearted paramedic gently reminded, "Sir, she's gone. Let her go."
Brett clung tightly to her, holding her as if she were a delicate, fragile item that might disappear if he let go.
How could he let go of Izabella, his greatest love? He knew that once he let go, he would never see her again.
In extreme fear and despair, people lose their senses and their bodies go into self-protection mode, as if trapped in a room with mirrors reflecting Izabella's face.
A sweet-smiling Izabella, a tearful Izabella, an angry Izabella, an Izabella who called him Brett. Every memory of her seemed so vivid and real to him.
It was as if his soul had split in two. One part told him that Izabella was dead because he had broken her legs, trapping her in the fire.
The other part told him that maybe Izabella wasn't dead, just asleep, or perhaps in a vegetative state like a year ago, or maybe the person in his arms wasn't her.
"The snow is heavy this Christmas, colder than usual. I'll take you to see the snow when your body gets better. The flowers in Quiet Forest Estates will bloom by then, and you might like them." Brett whispered.
The snow outside continued to fall, and Izabella's body had long lost its warmth.
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