December Eve

Bittersweet Reality

I collapse on my bed. Soon after that, I hear Niko shout a goodbye before the front door closes. The house is silent. A tear falls down my cheeks. Then another. Soon, rivers are being formed and I choked out sobs. I feel my lungs constricting, but I continue. I struggle to get air, but more and more sobs escape my lips. 

Nothing's going to work.

You are going to die. 

He knows, they know.

You are a dead man.

"Stop." My eyes open. The house is silent again. My tears still flow down my face as I begin to throw up blood. It explodes out of my mouth like molten lava shooting up and back down onto me, searing my face and neck. I don't move, instead, cry harder. The pain is numbing. I choke on the blood, making it come out even harder. I shoot off my bed and into the bathroom, still throwing up blood. I stumble over the toilet and barf up whatever blood I have left. I feel chunks of flesh roll out and plop into the toilet. As soon as it started, it stopped. My throat feels raw. My chest hurts even more, and my world is spinning. I crawl toward the medicine cabinet and stand, frantically looking for my medicine.

WhereisitwhereisitwhereisitwhereisitWHEREISITWHEREISIT?

I found the chemo drugs Alec prescribed and shoved them down my throat. I also added some more of my old pain meds, seeing if they would work. I crumble over the counter, waiting for it to go away. God, just go away. As if on cue, I slowly started to feel my breath go back to normal. My world shifts back into place as I hear knocking at the door. 

Dizzie.

This is his address, right? I started to tap my foot on the plush carpet beneath me. Surprisingly, the carpet here wasn't too bad. Why am I here anyway? I guess I got bored. I knew I didn't want to go to the club today, so I decided to call Rob and ask where he lived. God, I'm such a creep, but I wanted to see the kid again. He was...interesting to say the least. For the first time in maybe four years, I felt something stir in my chest. I knew what it was, I just don't want to admit it. Fear? Maybe. 

Before I decided fuck all, the door opened. 

He looks beautiful. 

His golden eyes are bloodshot, tears flowing down his cheeks. Blood dripped from his mouth down to his neck. His hair is disheveled, but it never loses its beauty. His golden eyes are searching mine, trying to find something there. They're asking me to leave. 

C'est tentant, mais je ne quitterais jamais. 

I walk up to him slowly, admiring his blood-stained face. I bring one of my hands up to cup his cheek. I feel the blood stick to my hand, but I don't care. His eyes are softer, inviting. The other hand is brought up, and my thumbs move circles on his face. The face that has been plaguing me. Stealing me away from my life and inviting me to another world.

I crash his lips onto mine. I taste the iron, but I dive deeper. His hands find their way into my dreads, running circles through them. I moan at the feeling, wanting him to run his hands through them since this morning. To feel his angelic lips on mine. I don't care that the only thing I can taste is blood. I push him back into the apartment, slamming the door shut with my foot.

He pushed my jacket off, it clattering on the floor. I practically rip his shirt off, throwing it somewhere in the living room. We land on the couch, where my hands roam his chest. His beautiful moans echo in my mouth, and I eat them all up. I move savagely, wanting more of him. He lifts my shirt up, our lips only separating for a split second before we crash together again. His hands roam up and down my back, making me shiver in pleasure. Unlike most of my subs or one-nighters, his touch sends flames down my back. We are both on fire, and it feels amazing.