ᖶᕼᓍᑘᘜᕼᖶS and Whatnot

> select.//Weak_Hero/fanfic_R-a-T_angstober_short

I wasn't really planning to release this because I did this for funsies and it wasn't apart of the RaT storyline, but I've determined the world doesn't deserve a good chapter rn. Especially after what happened, like, 4 days ago. Got me po'd. 🙃 So take this angst since I have no world sized spray bottle. It was for the day 1 angstober prompt from Tumblr which was "Again". iykyk

I've already warned for spoilers, but I'll do so again for this: SPOILERS! Not super detailed, but it has to do with the ending.

This remains unedited so excuse the wonky vibe of it and the grammatical errors.

Suffer. 💕
jk enjoy

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There was an uncanny feeling as she stared at the phone's screen. As if she just clipped into reality then and there. Her eyes were blank before they rapidly blinked, darting to the side to spy her brother, appearing as if he was forced to be there.

Yes, she was confused. They may have made up...enough, but they weren't as close as she was with their other siblings. He wouldn't sit in her room to watch something so silly with her. But that outfit...the show that was on...the candy she had settled in her crossed legs...

"Chance..." She softly spoke up, there was a warble effect on her first words.

Her heartbeat quickened as he took a second to respond. He looked at her, the perpetually angry look on his face, asking her what she wanted. His voice grumbled and bitter as it normally was.

"Why are you in here?" She asked, nails digging into her knees. They didn't feel like much, only a dull throb.

His scowl deepened, "You fucking forced me to sit down."

Her throat flexed as she thickly swallowed. "Why?"

"What's all these damn questions? Because you said you didn't trust me not to leave." There was a roll of his eyes and a small shake of his head in disbelief. She barely caught the gesture.

Her head felt like it was about to explode, her hands moved fast to grab her phone and pull down the top bar. Her breathing stalled in her throat. With barely anymore time to think, she jumped onto her feet, pushing past Chance.

"What the hell are you doing?!" He exclaimed, wide eyed at her abrupt reaction.

Her shoes were hastily put on at the door, barely fitting properly as she swung it open and raced from it. Chance was behind her, only stopping at the doorway, calling after her. She didn't bother paying him any mind.

No, she needed to go there. A desperation spurred through her typical nerves of walking the streets this late. She didn't take in anything but the street names and traffic. The faces she past were featureless canvases, blanked from her mind.

Her phone was still in her hand and every minute that passed felt like she was closer to a hell. She couldn't let it happen. She couldn't go through that. Her throat was dry by the next few streets and the lights blurred. Any looks shot her way weren't perceived, knowing she looked like she was crazy; dressed in pajamas and running around as if she were chased.

Her eyes went back to her phone and she pressed the button. The time flashed again, her blood pumping through her ears. Every jostle of her body was a sharp pain in her lower abdomen, form far too overworked for her nonathletic self. But the pain that was happening was nothing compared to what was going to happen.

A familiar spot came along, lit up for the pedestrians walking along it.

That hair combined with such pale skin only he would have.

Her feet slowed, relief beginning as she saw him in the flesh. He was standing, back facing her, looking up at the bridge where a group of boys were. His words barely reaching her ears.

Her lips parted to call to him, to get him to look at her, finally! But so did the pretty boy with the silver hair, just as a light brought her attention to the side. Her face dropped.

"Donald!" She screamed out, trying to pick up her speed. She needed to reach him.

Everything lagged for her. Her body, the sound, the people, the truck. The rapid beating of a heart overtook her hearing and she swore she could feel the pulsing of her blood throughout her body. A ball felt stuck at the bottom of her throat, no longer able to get anything out.

It was only a blink.

Everything went back to normal, but before her, there was no boy standing. Before her was a body, splayed across the ground. Drops of blood sprinkled the asphalt and a pool of sickening crimson below his head. He didn't move, he didn't groan.

Her legs collapsed under her, palm scrapping across the ground. With a heavy chest, she inched close on her hands and knees, stopping as she felt the fabric of her jacket against them.

"Donald." She uttered, reaching out to touch him. He was still warm, just like the blood dripping out of his nose and gathered around his mouth.

Her hand was placed on his chest and she gave a soft shake. "Come on." She ushered, "Come on, open your eyes. Open your eyes, cry, do something." Another shake and another, getting more antsy and sharp.

"Donald Na!" She rose her voice. Her face was hot, just like the molten tears bubbled in her eyes. They had toppled over the waterline, washing away the pricks of blood that she hadn't noticed fly onto her. "Donald! Please, Donald, please, open your eyes!" She wailed out.

She pushed her weight through her knees, cradling his face. It was all bruised and dirty and bloody. She could barely see him through them. She couldn't see his knowing, cold eyes or the softness he displayed upon looking at her. She couldn't see him resting as if he was taking a nap on the sitting area's sofa. He wasn't Donald Na, he wasn't her Donald. He wasn't. He wasn't!

"Oh, Donald." She coarsely whispered, squeezing the sides of his face. It was as if each second took warmth away with them. A choked sob left her, thick tears dripping onto his waxen flesh, wetting his cheeks, turning red as they slid across the streaks.

"Baby, please." Her voice cracked, as she brought him as close as she could, his body too heavy for her to do much with. "You can't be dead again. Please."

No begging could fix this, not even in her nightmares could she erase what happened. Nothing but reliving it again and again, holding him in his last moments where she couldn't in real life. It was unfair, holding him after he died, not before. Never before...

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If you liked this, you might just like the ending I have for the RaT series. So... mhwa mhua mhwa kisses! Bye!