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wandering_vanguardFandom: Blood Blockade Battlefront
Rating: G
Length: 469 Words
Content notes: Features siblings Leonardo and Michella.
Author notes: A character study of sorts.
Warnings: Thoughts of self-harm and mutilation.
Summary: He can't stop looking at the photographs he took that fateful day.
"Hold still, Michella," Leo bids his sister as he lifts his camera once more. "I just wanna a few shots of you in front of the railing."
His sister laughs at him. "You should be photographing the city, not me! It's not every day that we make a special trip like this."
Leo immediately flips to the next photo in the gallery.
"Seriously, Leo," she scolds him gently, shaking her head all the while. "You see me every single day."
She's actually smiling at him in the next picture with her hand raised and her fingers forming a peace sign. Her blue eyes glitter in the sunlight.
"I'll always be here, but the world is constantly changing around us!" she finishes at length, smiling in spite of lecturing him. "That's precisely why you should be taking photos of this amazing city and not me. You'll never land a professional job if all you have is photos of your sister in your portfolio! You should --"
The next photo in the slide is blurry and reddish, the color of the brick and cobblestone.
Choose.
His fingers start to tremble but he swipes again.
The next picture is a great deal brighter and, in spite of how close the lens is to the ground, he can make out a few ants and some specks of ash from a discarded cigarette.
Who will bear witness?
Nothing but a blinding white.
The camera finally tumbles from Leo's quivering hands and hits the mattress.
"Why?" he pleads with that unseen unknown. "Why couldn't it have been me?"
So shall it be.
Tears fall thick from his eyes as he scrambles to grab hold of his pillow, already soiled from similar encounters as he screams into it to avoid disturbing his neighbors. His fingers claw against the back of it where his eyes are on the other side, and he's tempted, oh so tempted, to snatch that leaky ballpoint pen off his nightstand to gouge them out.
A loud clatter alerts him and he jolts in bed, tearing his face from the pillow. Peering over the side of the bed, he spots the camera in the floor and curses as he struggles to reach it from this height.
"Fuck," he rasps and checks it over for any cracks or abrasions. "I hope it isn't damaged."
As he taps the screen, the photo he took just before that thing showed up and ruined his life appears; Michella sits in her wheelchair with her hands folded in her lap and a breeze is sweeping gently through her hair. Her eyes are narrower than usual, but she's looking so fondly at him that Leo can't help crying again. Only he doesn't drop the camera this time.
He holds it against his cheek as he shivers and sobs.
I'm sorry.
