The Sims: Heartbroken

Yang Li looked at the drawing board.

Blank.

He fondled the paper cherishingly, imagining the desired curve.

The world is extremely quiet, it hasn't been this quiet for a long time.

He was very relaxed, a satisfied smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

—he was sitting in his gallery, smiling softly at his paintings.

#

A gray figure sits on a stool, facing a row of oil paintings, and is painting on the easel in front of him—this is the content of the paintings.

It seemed like he hadn't been this relaxed in a long time.

He outlines the picture-in-picture meticulously, so delicate that it seems that the person in the picture will turn back at any time.

The point of view is where the wall meets the ceiling—someone seems to have told him there would be a camera there.This is really a brilliant idea, or, crazy?

He wanders around his house.

After living here for 500 years, it feels more like home than a cage.

There was everything he needed here except one.

Stroll through a closed door.

... what is missing?

The black alien creature kept wriggling, quietly covering Yang Li's face.

He held the paintbrush motionless, as if time was frozen at a certain second.

"Where did it come from?"

Superman looked at the group of alien creatures with a headache-the day before the heroes' meeting, he was called to the Wayne house by Bruce's phone call, since Superman was the only one who had dealt with (recruited) people.

"Maybe I'm of no use here either - it'll make the man see the most wanted thing he'll have to get rid of on his own..."

With brute force - it is possible to tear the victim's face off.

Although there was nothing he could do, Superman thought about it, looking at his partner with his head down and expressionless.

Distract him a bit.

"Do you know what he might want?"

What does Yang Li want?

Bruce blinked dully, finally recovering from some kind of blankness.

The many plans in his brain paused for a moment, and there was no need to contact Professor X, magicians, or aliens for the time being—he kept thinking about these issues, and nothing else was left.

He didn't look at Yang Li's face, and entered the new question into his brain, as if he was stuck, unable to get the answer for a long time.

Clark, who never got an answer from him, turned to look at him.

"...Bruce, you are too nervous, it will not cause any harm to Yang Li..."

Am I being obvious?

Bruce still had no expression on his face, but he licked his teeth heavily with the tip of his tongue, thinking a little irritably—it didn't matter how calm you were when Louis was caught last time.

Having said that, Prince Gotham sighed a long time, obviously he didn't do anything, but he had already started to feel tired—"Okay, okay, let me think about it, what does he want?"

Funny, Bruce's first thought was the ring.

Although he denied it very quickly, he still laughed at himself——then took a light breath.

What does Yang Li want most?

Back to the 27th century?No, he didn't care much about the place.

... If he could, he would seek death, eternal rest.

#

After walking around, I was a little tired.

Yang Li returned to his gallery and continued his unfinished painting - painting this thing takes much more time than it looks - ha, pun, one point.

But for some reason, he drew extraordinarily fast.

When the last stroke fell, he couldn't even react a bit.

"are you ready?"

Where does the gentle female voice come from, maybe the junction of the wall and the ceiling?

Footsteps came down the corridor—something like a horror movie now.

The sound of footsteps was unhurried, and Yang Li was also leisurely, slowly drifting in the opposite direction.

Holding his painting, he put a frame on it.

I always feel that this is not the first time he has framed the picture while running...

"You're not ready yet?"

The female voice said softly and laughed abruptly, "I like your paintings, it's a pity to take you away."

"I'm ready, my dear goddess, when I hang this picture up."

This corridor is so long——

The streets of New York, the street lights at night, the backs of superheroes...

When did he draw so many?

He passed the huge house and couldn't help but look back.

The house looked different from his home.

At least his garden wasn't as prolific.

As if there is a wind blowing in the painting, the flowers are swaying and their posture is light.

"..."

He looked away naturally.

This is something he can give up.

The next painting is a bed.

Compared with the luxurious house, this bed is a bit small and messy. Even if he tries his best to tidy up that room, no matter when he looks at it, the quilt will always be just slept on, rolled together, soft Huhu, it's still warm.

You can go back to sleep anytime.

He paused for a while, then walked on.

He saw the red roses poking out of the frame with teeth and claws, blocking him in front of him—but he crossed the obstacle and moved forward with difficulty—

It seems that because he walked a little slowly, the people behind him caught up.

The goddess of death has a very gentle smile.

The huge darkness followed behind her, swallowing everything——

It could be a dream.

Yang Li finally realized that the painting in Wayne's house had been swallowed by darkness. He scratched his hair and hugged his new painting tightly, "Wait for me to hang this painting... just wait for me a little bit."

"You're a tormentor."

The goddess did slow down, but she didn't stop, she was still approaching slowly.

So Yang Li walked quickly past the Avengers Building, the A on it had a constant radiance; he passed a big gun, which was indeed a part he didn't like, but his footsteps would stop for a while for the hand holding the gun; The big cup of love potion exudes sweetness, the snacks are shaking elastically on the plate, the antler helmet and staff are put into the painting, he will look at each picture for a while, and the goddess of death admires it with him.

Next to the beating, blue heart, is a drawing of an eye.

— the long gallery has come to an end.

He hung up his latest work and looked at it for a while.

The goddess of death stood beside him.

He stretched out his hand, a little presumptuously—he took the goddess's hand, maybe excited, maybe shy, his face flushed a little, "I'm ready."

The goddess' hands are slender, cold and silky.

"Don't look anymore?"

The black mist behind the goddess swallowed the blue, bleeding heart, leaving only the eye.

Yang Li looked at the painting.

The eye seemed to be looking at him—and then it blinked.

The painting comes alive.

Yang Li saw his own reflection in that eye - the goddess of death beside him was just a cloud of black mist.

He still holds the hand of death.

"I'm a little tired after walking so far."

He turned to look at the Goddess of Death—her face turned into a mass of wriggling black tentacles, holding his hand but still soft and cold.

"I want to rest."

The goddess of death did not speak.

Her hands never tightened.

"You don't want to take me? Admit it, I'm a fine soul, I, I deserve to be taken—"

Yang Li looked at the goddess helplessly, but the goddess didn't respond for a long time, so he had no choice but to change his gaze and continue to "look".

That eye was still staring at him, it was hard for Yang Li to describe that look - there were no tears, no eyebrows or something to judge emotions, he did feel some heavy emotions, followed the eyes, grabbed broke his heart.

He found he couldn't look into that eye.

There seemed to be a cold whisper in my ear, noisy and incomprehensible.

Inadvertently, he looked away and looked at the latest work——

The ghost is sitting at the drawing board, painting his gallery.

In the latest gallery, all are figure paintings.

Yang Li sighed softly.

The Goddess of Death's hand still didn't work hard.

"You don't want to take me away."

He finally let go of his hand first.

The black mist dissipated in an instant, and beside that eye, he saw Connor's face, and even the small blue circle that the android kept turning.

"But you did take these people."

Yang Li stepped back.

He saw All Might's thin smiling face and Saiki Kusuo's expressionless face, Connor pressed his heart and showed a smile.

Standing in front of those pictures, he turned his head to look at the goddess of death, "I'm not too many."

As he spoke, sobs emerged one step ahead of words.

Maybe what he wants most is just enough sadness, enough to cry once.

"One less you is not too small."

The Goddess of Death took a lump of something off her face.

Even with a face full of seam marks, her smile is still beautiful.

"After you cry, you realize—deep down, you still want to live."

#

The black alien creature fell off.

A pale, cold hand grasped it, like a mass of small furry animals.

Yang Li looked up, but there were still some tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Pray to me for something else."

Death took her portrait from his panel.

"I like your painting. If it is exhibited-probably many people will fall in love with me."

"That's because you are worth it." Yang Li murmured.

"If you are really idle, why don't you paint more and leave something for the museum to exhibit."

"If you want—"

"I don't want it, mallet." The goddess of death rolled up the painting and tapped Yang Li, "You want it."

Time suddenly begins to flow.

Bruce blinked, looked at Yang Li's expression, and looked in the direction of his gaze vigilantly - there was nothing, he was stunned, looked back at Yang Li, and indeed saw a tear in the corner of his eye.

He opened his mouth, quickly pushed the Superman next to him, and gritted his teeth again with a smile on his face, "Didn't you say that thing can make people see happy things?"

He wanted to find out why the alien creature disappeared in an instant, but this didn't seem like a good time to ask Yang Li.

Innocent Superman being bullied: "..."

He flew up a little bit, consciously drifting towards the window, "Maybe I lost what I wanted? I suddenly remembered that I have to finish the draft and leave first—wait a minute," he recalled, and suddenly frowned, " Is it really a dead line today?!"

……

"What did you see?"

Bruce looked worried.

"Oh, nothing, nothing terrible, actually, I feel pretty good, maybe I can talk a little more about that kind of good at tomorrow's meeting..."

Yang Li rubbed his eyes.

This is the first time.

He smiled at Bruce, "I had a good dream."

The author has something to say: this chapter...how should I put it, I have been stuck for a long time and need to recover x

Is it a testimonial?

Deep down in my heart, I still want to live, no matter how unbearable and hard it is, I still want to continue.

Yang Li will not pray to the god of death anymore, that's all.