Eccendentesiast

Eccendentesiast is someone who hides his/her pain behind his/her smile. Or fakes his/her smile in front of everyone. Victor Valieva was that kind of person. Or he was certainly trying to be one.

6:30 A.M

The smell of medicine permeating the room, seeping into the furniture and the fabrics, staining everything with the distinct smell of sickness and sadness and grief. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the otherwise silent room, save for the ragged breathing coming in infrequent intervals from the body lying on the bed. The odd coolness of the room despite the thermostat set to a warm 30° Celsius. 

Victor inhaled deeply and sharply, slowly closing the door to his bedroom behind him and walking towards the large, lavish bed in the centre. His footsteps on the matress were soft, almost inconceivable. The woman on the bed took a shuddering breath, the oxygen tank beside her releasing a whirring noise as she breathed through the mask.

*Vic..tor?*

Victor shut his eyes and squeezed them tightly, sitting on the chair next to the bed and grabbing Yuurika's hand in his own. He brought the weak appendage closer to him, leaning down to press a long kiss to the back of the hand.

"Yes. It's me." he said tried to keep the tears on the bay.

Yuurika smiled weakly, her eyes closed, face pale and skin tinged with the colors of yellow and grey. Her vibrant green eyes opened weakly as she stared at her husband of 9 years. 

"Where were you?" she asked in a weak voice.

Victor remained silent, his eyes red-rimmed and holding back tears. He could not tell his wife that he was with their friends, discussing the arrangements for her funeral. He could not tell her that the doctor had come and examined her without her noticing. He could not tell her that they were all told to brace for her passing tonight. He was not that heartless.

"I was getting something to eat." He rubbed the back of Yuurika's hand gently, his thumb moving across the expanse of skin in slow circles. 

"That's good…" her voice trailed off into a pained groan.

Victor reacted quickly, using his free arm to stabilize her head and murmuring sweet-nothings. There was nothing else left they could do.

"Sorry," she coughed once she had calmed.

Victor held back the sob that was threatening to leap out of his chest and splatter onto the sheets. 

"Please don't apologize."

"I wish...I didn't have to burden you...this way," his wife muttered between gasps for air.

Victor's eyebrows furrowed and he leaned over to press a kiss to her forehead.

"Please. Don't talk anymore."

She nodded, closing her eyes. She sought blindly for victor's hand despite hardly being able to move her own. Victor allowed their pinkies to intertwine, exercising great caution to move her body as little as possible, not wanting to set off another attack.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice a weak whisper.

Victor startled, glancing over to the clock. "7:55PM. Why?"

Her raspy voice did not provide him with an answer.

Sighing softly, victor hunched over, resting his head against the edge of the mattress. Yuurika's now much more even breathing signified her state of slumber, and victor took the moment to let down his guard.

"Why did it have to be you? Of everyone it could have been…" His breath caught in his throat, "Why you?"

It didn't make sense to any of them. What did this woman, a wonderful human being like her, do to deserve this pain? This disease that could not be cured. This illness that spread into the hearts of everyone around them. 

As he sat in the chair beside the bed, all he could remember the day they met, in Moscow. It was like 13 years ago, but it felt like yesterday. They were just students, studying in university together, when they fell in love with eachother. He remembered the time when Yuurika's eyes sparkled, the time when she blushed heavily as he  confessed his love to her. 

He remembered their marriage. Their marriage vows, where they promised their faithfulness and undying love to eachother, in the presence of their family. Well, mostly her family and their friends. His parents were not there, well his father died when he was 13 and his mother didn't even bothered to attend the wedding for some unknown reason. His mother had been like that, she didn't really cared for him. He was eccendentesiast, even before he knew the meaning of the word, because of his childhood. But Yuurika was the first person who brought, love, light and brightness into his life. 

His mood darkened as he remembered their current situation. She had been dealing with heart conditions for the past year, but for the past few months it had been severe and intense. Especially after she suffered from that sudden seizure few months ago.

He knew there was nothing more he could do for his wife. He flew in the best doctors, bought the best medicines available, sought out every possible treatment. Some part of him knew from the start that it was a useless endeavor. Some part of him urged him to just let go. Some part of him was already aware of what the outcome would be. For the last few months, all he'd done was praying. Praying to God, to save his love. To not take her away from him. He didn't wanted to become a eccendentesiast again, like he was once, before he met Yuurika.

He was Russian, not a god or immortal, or someone who was powerful, that he can do everything. But there was a part of him, that wanted him to do anything and everything for his wife. But there was nothing he could do.

But he could not dare to give up.

11:02PM

Yuurika's intervals of consciousness were getting shorter and shorter. Her breathing grew unsteady, the medication no longer providing her with any relief.

"What time is it?" she asked once more

Victor frowned, looking at the clock once more. "It's 11:02 at night. Is something wrong?"

"No."

Victor got up from his chair to smooth back her bangs. 

"I love you, Vic."

"I love you too, Yuu. More than anything."

1:57AM

"Someone call a doctor!! Hurry!"

Yuurika's head shook in worrying trembles, her breathing changing from short and gasping, to minute long periods of nothing.

"Happy Birthday Vic. I love you" she whispered to her husband, who was holding her hand so tightly.

Tears streamed down victor's cheek.

The footsteps running towards the room grew louder, the shouting stronger. Victor was pushed aside as the doctors ran forward, fingers on her neck and clipboard ready.

4:00AM

It was long, painful. Their family and friends sat in varying positions around the room, waiting for the doctor's call. They have said their final good byes. 

Beep.

Beep.

Be..ep...

Be......eep....

Victor lay next to his love in the large bed, brushing back her hair and arranging the strands in a halo-like position around her head. Yuurika's breathing patterns continued to switch between gasping breaths and apnea. With each interval, the period of apnea grew seconds longer. And longer. It's was horrifying and frightening. Victor was scared.

Beep...beep...be.....eep..beep...beep....beep..beep..beee.p...be.......eeeepppppppp.........

The beeping of the emergency heart monitor flat-lined. The yelling of the people to restart her heart, the urging of the doctors to please step back. The 'Do Not Resuscitate' bracelet on her wrist seeming to glow in the situation.

"Yuurika Valieva Age: 30. Time of Death: February 3rd, 4:28AM."

Victor let himself cry, holding Yuurika's still warm body close to his own. He pressed kisses to her face—her forehead, her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, her lips. He put his ear to her chest, desperately trying to search for a heartbeat despite knowing there was none, and letting out a gruesome wail in response to his fruitless search. A wail that even started to hurt his own ears.

Tears streaming down his face, victor caressed Yuurika's cheek. The droplets of water falling down and splattering onto her lifeless face like the blessings of the stars.  He was an eccendentesiast now, because the sole reason of his very smile, was gone. He'd have to fake his smile, because with every smile he would remember his wife's loving face. Her soft and loving smile. Because she was the only person who could bring an instant smile to his face. 

The only thing he could remember was Yuurika's last words. The last breath which she used to wish him a happy birthday. Yes, it was his birthday today, and today was the day he lost his Love. The reason, for whom he was alive until now. Her last words rang in his ears.

"Happy Birthday Vic. I Love you"

Hearing her last words brought fresh tears to his already red and swollen eyes, as he wailed, and desperately wished for his wife to come back to him. He could remember their cuddles and snuggles on the sofa, arguments about their favourite movies. Her soft laughter. Her funny and loving nature. Their days where they spent lazily in their beds, those lazy weekends where they only snuggled and cuddled into each other's warmth.

This was the birthday Victor would always remember, till his dying breathe. 

The world was silent, the Earth mourned. The sun did not rise and the sky cried. As they all mourned and grieved for such a wonderful human being. Finally he could understand the true meaning of what being a Eccendentesiast meant. But he didn't cared, as he grieved for his lost Love.