Blood red on cream and nothing more.
The square of heavy parchment felt like lead in Wufei's hand. His fingers trembled as he stroked the subtle ridges of its waxen seal. He was loathe to break it, to free the secrets inside; writ, he knew, in a graceful, sweeping hand.
Slender fingers had cradled the pen, in a grip that was, despite its fine-boned appearance, considerably strong. There were no other drafts. Each word, each letter, was born in ink exactly as intended. As precise and sure as its scribe.
With an anguished snarl, Wufei ripped open the letter. Flakes of wax swirled around him to settle gently at his feet as he unfolded the perfect creases.
'My most honourable enemy...'
Words blurred and mingled together. He could barely read further.
The warm wind, scented with wildflowers, plucked at the letter in his numb fingers. Wufei lifted his head and clenched his jaw. "I was supposed to die," he told the sky.
The endless blue held no comfort and he cried out in helpless fury as he buried his hands in the thick black of his hair.
"Why did you let me kill you?!" he shouted, trying to shatter the ache that coiled around his chest. "Damn you..."
Twice kissed by regret, the thick parchment was borne away on the breeze.