THIRTY-SEVEN

                                    

                                          
❝I WAS IN A SHEER DRESS THE NIGHT THAT WE MET❞
SABRINA CARPENTER, BED CHEM



With her ice blonde hair floating in the air, the soft natural wave to her locks whipped above her falling body. Lorelei still, very much, was expecting to fall on the ground below. Noises were soon drawing into her ears, the screams from Jason and Dick clouded behind her thoughts.
She wished she couldn't hear at all. Her violet eyes were rimmed with red as she whimpered her final cries into the world. Lorelei didn't want to hear Jason die. She would, it would be the last thing she would hear before her own eventual death.
Perhaps that was punishment on its own. For her to hear his death below her and if her lucky star was truly not looking, maybe she would feel his final breath as her body landed against the noir haired boy.
Lorelei let out a small smile at the thought of Jason's hair. He had worn his natural curls a lot more lately. The young Robin didn't want her to know, but she knew it was because she complimented the fluffy mess his hair became that one morning after a movie night.
Her smile immediately dropped at the realisation she would never have another movie night. Lorelei would never wake up to the sound of Jason breathing again. Or hear his laughter. Or his sweet softness he reserved for the moments where there was nobody else around, his egocentric facade only peeking through the corners when he was flirting with Lorelei or avoiding the deeper moments between them.
The young mage could recall thinking she had no 'happiest memory' just a few weeks ago. That wasn't true, not anymore. Her happiest memory had become a collection of the times where it was just Lorelei and Jason; unable to pick just one, they were all held dearly to her.
So maybe it was fitting, that the comfort she had found in listening to Jason's breathing on Sunday mornings would bite her in the ass and be the last thing she would hear before dying.
Or maybe that was her punishment, like she originally thought. To hear the thing she found most comfortable ceasing to exist, just moments before herself.
Regardless, her last moments would be painful. Lorelei's body had become numb in the air, her hand no longer hurt despite glass still swimming in the open wound. Whether her body would feel pain as it collided with death was something Lorelei paid no care for.
Her death would be painful as it danced with emotions. The damage taken to her heart would forever be all that remained in Lorelei Hansworth. It would endure a lifelong of a whisper, staying silent in the words Lorelei would never be able to say.
Jason will never know how deeply she cared for him, even if she hadn't realised just how special he was until she fell. The young Robin was her lucky star, she always felt stronger looking at the stars. Jason made her stronger.
Her eyes were soaked with tears, the salted water running into her ears or falling into the night. She didn't know, she was falling too fast to look down. Lorelei couldn't, even if she wanted to. Hearing Jason die would be hard enough, seeing his dead body was a sight she did not need. 
Even she could identify what punishments were too harsh.
Instead, her gaze kept to the nightsky, searching for the stars hidden behind the faint clouds. She couldn't look at Dick, she forced herself to look at anywhere but her leader. 
Lorelei did not want him to feel guilt for this, though she was sure he would manage to twist her actions into his fault. He would blame himself, for not using his other hand or for allowing the blood to get in between them. Or maybe he would place the blame on Deathstroke, who was ultimately at fault.