𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐑  — 𝐇.𝐑𝐉

𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐑  — 𝐇.𝐑𝐉

requested: #5 - “Oh. I see” 

Avenior ~ (n.) the desire that memory could flow backward

Huang Renjun is famous for his portraits. Every brushstroke is said to tell a story, every colour believed to show emotion, and every detail thought to symbolise parts of his own life. Well, the life he once had with you. 

As he looks up to the ceiling, his eyes gloss over the white plaster beams and the arching glass windows letting in golden light. A tapestry adorned with angels and gods flows overhead, and he’s familiar with every single stroke, every lump in the fabric. He lets out a disparaging sigh and shakes his head, eyes immediately blinking away any tears. If only… If only he could go back. 

…

Renjun sits amongst the grass as butterflies and ladybugs fly around him, the warm light hitting his face as he squints and tries to look at you. Through the sunlight, he manages to make out a few details: you have flowers in your hand and a comforting smile on your face.

“I love you so much.” you mutter, laying down on his chest and pressing a quick kiss to his temple.

“As do I, angel.”

He plucks another wildflower from beside him and intertwines it through your hair, stroking your cheek and laughing. Bells echo in the background and crickets chirp, Renjun couldn’t be happier. His life with you is perfect. It always would be, like destiny. And you’d be together until the end of time, right?

…

And so just as he’s ready to begin his next portrait of you, Renjun truly starts to cry. Tears cascade down his cheeks as a wail echoes through the palace. His brush is ready on the canvas, waiting for the next stroke but his fingers are reluctant to move, stuttering.  

He doesn’t know what to do.

Because after all this time, Huang Renjun — the love of your life — is finally beginning to forget you. 

The memory begins to fade once more and Renjun pushes away the easel, tripping over the paint as he runs out of the hall. Messy maroon footsteps leave a trail after him on the slick marble floor while paintbrushes clatter against the cold tiles with every step. The fear begins seeping in, lord he can barely focus… Desperately clinging onto the memory of you smiling. He stumbles into the grand hall and frantically searches for the portraits, dragging down curtains, throwing away tarps and leaving everything around him in disarray.

Finally, a hand gently taps his shoulder, effectively stopping Renjun from doing any more damage.  One of the palace groundkeepers timidly begins to speak, the uneasy expression on his face giving away too much as he fiddles with the broom beside him. 

“Sir… If you’re looking for the portraits of Miss Y/N, I regret to inform you that some of them were lost in the fire last spring. The king thought it would be best not to advise anyone… Greatest apologies.“ 

And just like that, it feels like Renjun’s world is collapsing in on himself, his vision turning blurry as he through constricts withe very breath.  It’s happening again. Through short gasps, he finally manages to speak:

"Oh. I see.”

Renjun takes off his beret and runs a calloused hand through his hair, his joints giving way as he finds himself kneeling underneath the tainted glass window, looking down at the rainbow of light at his feet. 

They’re gone. 

And now you’re gone. Forever. 

…

“Renjun, my love…” you croak out, clinging onto his hand as you let out another ragged exhale. 

“Shh, I promise you will be okay, please… They’re only a few days away, we will have the cure soon enough. Please just… Stay for a few more days angel.”

“Of course, I-I’ll try.” You offer him a small smile, lifting his hand and pressing it against your cold cheek. 

A silence settles in the air as the two of you stare at each other, a despondent plea shining through your eyes. You don’t know what to tell him… You’re not going to make it. But before you can open your mouth once more, Renjun slides something up beside him, something covered in a silken tarp. 

He gently places it in front of you before tearing away the fabric to reveal a portrait. It’s you and him. You’re both smiling under the midsummer sun, in the fields. 

You shift closer to inspect it in more detail. Every stroke is full of love and desire. You can even see the wrinkles in the fabric of your clothes, the feathery wings of the birds and soft texture of wildflower petals. It is undoubtedly his best work yet, and you know that within months, people from all over the kingdom will come to see it in all its glory; hanging in the great hall, under the golden glow of the sun. 

Renjun sees your expression and grins, pressing a kiss to your lips. You were ethereal. 

His love. His muse. His everything. 

Yet, just days later, you smile and let out your last breath while staring out towards the green fields, hand in hand with Renjun. And eventually, a whisper echoes through the halls as everything turns cold. The birds stop singing as the sun hides behind the clouds. A rough breeze flows through the fields below as the words fall from your lips. 

“Please don’t forget me.”

…

Renjun slams his fits down and staggers up, wiping his red eyes and running back to his unfinished portrait. How he wishes he could go back in time, back to those memories and back to you. He wishes he could have made at least one more and now Renjun prays that he can paint your face one more time and show it to the world. 

With that, he picks up his brushes and the pallet, fixing his beret and breathing in slowly. 

One more time. He had to paint again, for you. Just one more time. 

The strokes of colour flow once more on the canvas, covering the dull beige fabric and creating a world of emotions. With every flick of his wrist, Renjun begins to feel the warmth again. 

But… He never finishes it. 

The portrait is hung up in the grand hall, and people from all over rush in, immediately pointing towards the ceiling. Half of your face hasn’t been completed, the painting only showing a dissolving figure. And Renjun knows that is exactly the way it should have been. He was alright. You were still there, together again with him, for eternity. 

The villagers all stare upwards, some even able to make out the gold inscription on the frame. 

‘My love you may disappear forever yet I will be okay for as long as this portrait hangs above,  I know you are beside me for another day’