My Alpha Centauri (Completed)

我再說一遍，但它傷害了|9.5

                                        The cold air touches my skin and it hurts,'

                                                                        ||

                                                                     A R T

'SOUTH,' I whispered-yelled, seeing his hard figure surrounded by the darkness while he sat on the porch.

'Yes, Art?' He sighed, his eyes heavier than eyes should be, 'what do you need?'

There was a change in South, I could tell it from the way he never left his room and if he did it was only because he wanted to smoke on the porch. The moon hung high in the sky and I frowned at it because so far it had only ever brought me pain and pain and so much pain.

I sat down next to him and leaned into his side, resting my head on his hard shoulder, 'w-what happened, South?'

He sighed and it was almost angry, so I shut my mouth and grabbed his hand, squeezing gently to let him know that he had my support.

'I saw my mate, Arty...I know I shouldn't have but I was looking through your stuff because I just wanted to understand more about you and I-I...that photo...the man and he's with you and your both sitting on a porch and your smiling and he's smiling and he...he...he's dead isn't he.'

'Oh, South,' Anguish. I had never heard anguish but all of a sudden it was leaking into my tone and it was ripping me apart. The word sounded nice but the sound sounded like a hundred needles pushing through my skin and breaking me...

Tears welled in my eyes and I glanced up at him and he glanced down at me with the same river eyes. The same abused expression, the same tilt, the same fucking everything! Looking away from his cold eyes, my gaze latched onto the black, tattered friendship bracelet that I hadn't taken off since Grey had smiled at me and said he loved my soul. 'GREYSON' was in thick silver letters, and it decorated the inside of the bracelet and suddenly – just like that, I knew what I had to do.

I managed to pull it off my wrist even though it resisted because I hadn't taken it off, not since he had given it to me. I grabbed South's hands that I was holding and I pulled his fingers apart so that I could place it in his palm and with sad eyes, sad lips and sad words, I placed it into the centre of his palm.

'Grey. His name was Grey. H-he gave it to me because h-he...' The lump in my throat was back and it climbed so far that I gave up and just let the tears fall down. 'He said I was the only person who he had ever loved...he said that I was the only family he had...'

'Thank-you,' South whispered, his voice so hoarse and his eyes so heavy, he slipped the bracelet on and turned to me, 'I don't know what I'm going to do, Arty.'

'You're going to listen. I told you that I would tell you a story that I've never told before and this is it, this is Grey's story.'

I swallowed and I prepared for the words, I prepared for the hate, for the love and for the destruction. The story struck through me and this time I didn't clasp my hands over my ear, no. I listened to it and it listened to me.

'I met him on the train. We were both kids, sitting next to each other, avoiding the gaze of the other's because we didn't want to show our tears. He was colder than what I was used to, and he had a sadder gaze than what I had been exposed to. I don't know how but after our eyes connected and I saw him for what he really was; sad and lonely, it was suddenly like we needed each other – so we stuck. It was hard on the streets, but we made it work and then Grey found an abandoned cabin in the middle of the woods and we took our opportunity. We were sixteen then and Grey had taken up smoking, running errands for the kids that he got them off. He wouldn't tell me how he had got them but I had a feeling how and then Grey asked me to tell him a story and I did. That became our thing – every night I told him a story and then one day he told me his. It went on like this and I knew Grey was the only ever family I had really ever loved. He gave me that bracelet, a few days after I had met him and said I couldn't take it off because taking it off meant leaving him. Grey was as broken as me, if not more and I guess I should've known that one day he wouldn't want to keep going but I didn't think. Grey drowned himself. I saw my best friend die that day. I saw his blue eyes turn to stone and his chest stop moving and his lips stop moving. Grey was the stages of grief – the stages of grief that no one wrote about and I loved him so much! So fucking much that he broke me so hard and so fast and I...' The lump stopped my speaking and I tried to breathe but with the tears and everything I just couldn't. 'He killed me South and you're like him, just warmer and less catastrophic. He would have suited you so well and I...it's so unfair and I just...'