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The rain gently pattered on the concrete at their feet as Itrapped stared at Chance. The gambler was leaning against the wall, his deep golden eyes looking at nothing in particular. He wasn’t his usual cheery self, and somewhere inside Trap, it bothered him. He doesn’t particularly care for the reckless man, who always relied on his so-called ‘luck’. Luck can only get you so far in life. And yet, no matter how much he told himself that Chance was foolish, and that this whole plan almost seemed like a waste of time, something deep inside his cold body was warmed at the thought of his face. With a sigh, Trap dropped whatever he was holding, the clang echoing slightly, causing him to wince at the volume. And he stepped towards Chance, where the gambler’s eyes slowly looked up at him, tiredly. Trap held out his hand, inviting the younger to stand with him. Yet even after a few seconds of silence, Chance did not take his hand. Trap huffed, annoyed, before impatiently taking his hand and pulling him close. He cleared his slightly raspy throat before he hummed.
The tune was bouncy and quick, yet still had a slight hint of sadness. Trap gently held Chance’s hand in one of his own, with Chance’s hip in the other. He gently draped Chance’s other arm over his shoulder, simply letting the fool drape against him. So he was going to be difficult. No matter. Trap can easily lead in a dance, no matter how incompetent his partner was. With how close they were, even with the cold rain soaking their clothes, the warmth they shared was enough to keep him from shivering. He gently picked up Chance every once in a while, matching the rhythm of the song he sang. And yet, all the while, Chance did not smile once. If anything, he seemed even sadder. The half-closed eyes, staring deep into Trap, made him slightly uncomfortable. Eyes are the windows to the soul after all. Whatever the gambler saw, Trap was sure that he didn’t want it to be seen. So he looked away—Chance’s red suit with the white undershirt. It was different from his usual outfit, but tonight was certainly not a usual night by any means.
A few hours ago, they were playing in Chance’s casino, their usual Wednesday activities. Trap couldn’t remember what happened in the last few hours that led to now, only remembering that he wasn’t having fun indoors. Perhaps he invited Chance out for a smoke. Maybe they got kicked out of the casino, even though this was technically their establishment. Trap wouldn’t put it past them. Didn’t they say something was happening tonight? Trap couldn’t bother to remember. Maybe it was an esteemed guest visiting. Maybe Chnce had something to say. Who knows. It doesn’t matter, not when they danced here without a care in the world. Chance weakly slipped from Trap’s grasp, but he was quick to catch them and reposition them in his arms. Although the song was interrupted, Trap couldn’t say he minded all that much. It was strange, really. Sometimes the smallest things ticked him off, his anger being cold and swift to come and go. But he didn’t care too much about this. The moment perhaps softened his heart. As they danced, his foot bumped into something metal. And when he looked down, he paused.
A sword. The Darkheart.
And all his memories flooded back.
The laughter. The drinks. The gamble.
He looked back at Chance as the realization set in. His hands were cold. Colder than normal. The only warmth from Chance that was feeding into his own was the blood slowly seeping into his clothes. He looked down at their wound, the red dark and sickly. He looked to where Chance had been earlier, and all he saw was a splatter of dark scarlet. Chance slipped from him again. Trap caught him, but the weakness in his legs had him falling to his knees from the momentum. He laid Chance down as gently as he could, despite the crime he had committed not 20 minutes ago.
And as the rain now violently fell on them, all he saw in Chance’s eyes was a deep emptiness.