Cold and affectionate attack x gentle and cheerful reception
Just a cliche redemption story
——————
My love is dead.
... It's a cliché metaphor, but... He really, really, really...
He rescued me time and time again from the dark, despairing, suffocating abyss.
Watching him fall on the snow, stroking his pulse that was no longer beating warmly.
... I was just sure that he was dead.
I heard his last, last words to me.
——Get out of here.
... Get out of here?
I made the decision I regret most in my life... Whether it was the fear of death in my mind or the ridiculous survival instinct - it was unforgivable.
I took a step back.
…Then the mountains shook and I took a few steps back.
... I watched helplessly as he was buried in the falling snow just one step away from me.
...
When the rescue team arrived, it took us half an hour to find him.
His hands were cold, his face was cold, and his chest was cold.
I hugged him, but it didn't warm him even if I covered him.
They asked me if I knew the deceased.
... Deceased? No, he's not.
He is my lover.
This is my lover.
Intention: To be determined