-1A/N Yet another rewrite...again! Feedback greatly appreciated - this chapter was really hard to write! Sorry for any inconsistencies with the 'one week' timing here. I searched, and couldn't find anywhere I'd written it down differently but, as it's just been added, it's probably wrong! Thank you so much for all the constructive criticism I've used to make this better!

The Most Wonderful Thing in the World

Taegil’s first rule: Emotional people are stupid people, stupid people are caught people, caught people are dead people, and dead people are useless people. Therefore, emotional people are useless people.

Lassimad, One week until the Purge

She had no face.

Silu could taste the blood and vomit that clung to his teeth, and tried to gulp in the smell of the morning, but the air was laced with the stink of sweat, bile and worse. As he wretched emptily, he tried to clasp at his aching, fragile stomach, but was too exhausted; his arms were unnaturally heavy and his shoulders trembled and crunched with a deep, swollen pain.

He rolled over, panting madly, and rubbed his hot face in the wet, dewy grass. His forehead thumped, and his body strained to be sick again, but he slipped out his tongue and licked the cool water instead, drawing it into his sore, dry throat and marvelling at how much it tasted like Heaven.

Her soft voice purred in his mind, pouring out sweet, intoxicating words, like honey saturated with charming cruelty. "Who do you think you are, Silu, my dear? Sweetheart, you're a mess." Her voice was so beautiful, she might have been singing, her every word strung with indescribable dark melodies.

She reached down to touch him, her movements so graceful that she seemed to float. Silu smiled without meaning to as he watched her white-blonde hair fall over the place where her face should have been, and the way that her silk dress clung to every part of her body and outlined it perfectly.

"There's no way you can beat this," she said.

His skin burned as her cold, soft fingers pressed into it, and time seemed to crack open as the feeling raced through his nerves and plunged deep into his mind. His body contorted automatically, straining to break contact with her perfectly manicured fingertips while his brain boiled, and barbed wire dragged its way through his veins.

She was right; he couldn't beat this - her touch was killing him.

He might have been screaming, he wasn’t sure, but one moment his mouth was open, and the next it was clamped shut so hard that his teeth squeaked against each other.

She'd stopped, but the pain lingered in his shattered body. He couldn't take much more of this, but longed to cling on to consciousness for as long as possible; he needed to be with her for as long as he could. Being with her was magical - the terrible pain and nausea were worth it.

He strained to focus on the place where her face should have been, and felt that she was looking back at him. He wondered what she saw, what the past hour since they'd met must have done to his appearance. He wondered what she’d look like bleeding, pale and sweaty. She’d still be beautiful, he thought. Even with her blonde hair black with mud, she’d always be beautiful to him.

“Please tell me who you told,” she said. She had the most amazing voice. He could curl up in that voice and sleep forever, Silu thought, and he’d never needed to sleep more.

“It’s important that I know,” she said, casually wiping a fleck of dirt off her chest.

Silu’s head fell into the grass again and the back of it sunk into the cool, soft mud. He licked his lips and felt sticky lumps of blood pushing against his tongue. His mouth was so dry; the dew did so little to satisfy him.

She bent over and touched him again. Her rose-scented fingers pulled gently at his rough, bruised ones.

“Come on,” she said, every word perfect and musical.

Silu had no choice but to obey; he was so weak and she was so strong and enchanting. He doubled over, his body wrecked with the sickness again. He moaned and clawed at his chest, trying to stop his heart from bursting open, and hot tears ran down his face and into his mouth. His knees buckled, but she held him up.

He looked at her with wild eyes, wondering if she could see what she was doing to him, wondering if she loved watching it as much as he loved her. His mouth twitched, trying to form words, but his brain was too wrapped up in the strange pain to think of any. He moaned, but was unable to pull away from her, both because of lack of strength and the complete desire to be this close to her forever.

“I need to know who you told,” she said.

She took her hand away and, without her support, he fell into the grass again. His nose crunched and he felt the blood slide out of it. She turned him over with her foot so that he was on his back, and laughed.

Her laughter was the loveliest thing he’d ever heard. He’d like to make her laugh like that for the rest of her life. He smiled groggily at the thought.

“I love seeing you so helpless,” she said.

He laughed and tried to move his lips to form words. “I…”

His voice was hoarse and barely audible. She leant closer. “Yes?”

“I...” He coughed suddenly, his chest tight and painful.

“What is it?” she asked eagerly. “You what? Who did you tell, Silu?”

Silu closed his eyes and smiled. “Lo…love…you.”

She screamed in frustration and slapped him hard across the face. Silu barely noticed the pain, but he winced anyway. He didn’t want to make her scream; he wanted to love her and hold her and kiss her.

“If you loved me, you’d tell me!”

Silu gave a gurgled laugh as the blood from his nose spilled freely into his mouth.

“H…how do y..you…” He’d forgotten the right word. He puckered his blood-stained lips and hoped that she’d understand. “N…no…mouth…”

She slapped him again and clasped his wrist with her free hand. Deep and dark and pulsating, the evil feeling spread out from her beautiful palm, snapping his bones, scouring his flesh, bringing him closer to her.

He clenched his eyes shut and grinned.

“More,” he choked, tasting metal. “More.”

She stopped immediately and stepped away from him, as if disgusted.

“Focus, Silu, my dear,” she demanded, regaining herself almost immediately. “I need to know if you told anyone. Did you?”

Silu swallowed as blood ran down the back of his throat. “Am I…nearly…dead?”

She laughed lightly. “Oh yes,” she said. “But before you go, please tell me whether you told anyone what you saw. You have to. You’d do it if you loved me. You know you would, darling.”

Silu smiled. Of course he’d tell her; if he was about to die, the rest of his life should be devoted to helping her. “Yes.”

She leant close to him. She smelt of butterscotch and strawberries. His chest heaved upwards as he tried to breathe her in. “Who, Silu, my darling, who?”

Silu opened his eyes and looked up at where her face should have been. It was shining so brightly with intense power that it made his eyes sting, but he continued to look. He wanted her to be the last thing he ever saw so that he could capture the image in his mind and look at it whenever he wanted. Maybe Heaven worked like that, maybe that was Heaven.

She looked behind her urgently, before returning her attention to him. Silu guessed that maybe she’d sensed something. She was so clever like that.

“Silu, quick! Focus! Who was it?”

“M…my…” He swallowed, frustrated that he couldn’t get the words out quick enough.

"Yes? Yes? Hurry, Silu!"

“My….sis….” He started coughing madly again, spraying out little bits of blood.

“Your sister? Is that it?”

Silu smiled as he continued to cough, he didn’t have the breath to talk yet.

“What’s her name, Silu?” she asked. Silu could tell how happy he was making her, and it filled him with delight. “What’s her name?”

“S…Sigo…man…thea.”

“Sigomanthea,” she breathed harmoniously. “Thank you, Silu, thank you. You’ve done all that you can now.”

And she leant over him. Silu’s insides raced as she drew near. He had the wonderful feeling that he was going to find out how she managed to kiss without a mouth after all. She was so good to him. He closed his eyes and waited for her invisible petal-soft lips to touch his and kiss away all the blood that was caked there. He felt them there for a moment, as gentle as the slightest warm breeze, and he was in ecstasy.

A sudden blast of pain tore through him and his eyes forced themselves open. He could see only gold flecks, fanning out like fiery peacock tails, but he couldn’t close them. At the same time, his body jerked upwards so that his spine felt as if it was about to twang and snap. He could hear himself screaming now, but couldn't remember when he'd started.

When the pain numbed, Silu shut his eyes and knew that he must have been dead. He could sense her above him, leaning down to pick him up, wrapping her slender arms around his aching chest, and her touch was no longer accompanied by pain. She said something - he wasn't sure what - and sounded uncharacteristically scared, so he comforted her, leaning over to where her face should have been and kissing it gently. But something was different.

He thought that he heard her scream then, so he kissed her over and over again, eyes still shut to retain her image, hoping that this would take her fear away.

"These your glasses?"

“I lo…”

“Shh,” she said, her voice nervous, confused even. “Shh. You -you need to rest now, I think. Don’t speak, okay?”

Silu smiled, and mouthed the words instead. He liked the way they felt and tasted in his mouth, and wanted to keep on saying them forever. Well, he had forever now.

She led him away. Maybe they were going to Heaven together. Maybe he could hold her cool body close to him and feel the silk of her dress against his hands. He’d ask her her name and she’d laugh and whisper it into his ear. He’d be able to feel her soft, fragrant breath against his cheek then, and would hear her mesmerising voice again. That, Silu thought, would be the most wonderful thing in the world.