Robins' works

Drag

AN: hi it's ya boi Robin here with an update. This is kind of a follow up thing for Jay-Quinn 's latest one shot thing I LOVE THEM ITS GREAT THEYRE MY ANGEL IM BLESSED PLEASE JJST TAKE THIS IT GETS SAD.

I watched him lose himself slowly, keeping a close eye on his lover as they tried their best to help him, to save him, to be his light in the dark.

It didn't work out that way, and as he walked out the door, the smell of cigarette smoke and a burnt out flame lingering, they fell to the floor once more and wept.

I held them in my arms, but they couldn't feel me. They couldn't feel my love for them, my worry, my want. The want to touch them, speak to them and assure that I'm here, because I'm not anymore.

Slowly I spectated with silent pleas beside them as they took that first slow drag of their cigarette, poison seeping into their lungs and covering it in a black and thorny grip.

As time went on, and my cries went unheard, those thorny vices blossomed into a sign of death, digging itself in deep and spreading throughout.

One slow drag after another, in and puff out the pain, I held my transparent arms around them and listened to them weep, listened to them confess every burden to a seemingly empty room.

I was there though, trying to wipe away their tears, praying that they could see me, feel me, know that I was listening. My cries went unheard, both to the gods and the person I loved.

One puff in, the roots grew out, and one puff out, following it was red roses, stained black with blood and pouring through their soul and being.

All I could do was sit there, crying, and whispering apologies to long dead ears, a lonely promise to an angel gone.

"I love you."