MERLIN / MERTHUR ONESHOTS

Ceiling Fan

TW!! suicide

Morgana's POV:
I tighten my grip on the crumpled and torn paper as the words begin to blotch and blur; the parchment becoming a glistening but ominous pool of soot,it's a melancholy sight.
My vision dazed and dream like as my eyes start to, once more, glaze over. My tears break out, the crystalline liquid flowing freely, descending down my rosed cheeks and onto the paper below.

My breathing hitches and my heart skips a long and painful beat, as i cautiously cradle what's left of him against my chest; much like a mother would do to her newborn child.

What were once soft and silent sobs were now heart-wrenching cries. The kind of tears that are brought by pain, the kind of tears that wrack your whole body and shake you violently. The kind of tears that don't run out but instead let you drown. No one can hear me now...i'm all alone.

I scream. I scream until my voice becomes hoarse. I scream until my breath is stolen along with the sound and i can no longer scream. I scream until all that's left is my defeated, fragile body, weakly rocking in the dim light. I'm on my knees, my head dropped down, a choking feeling washing over me as i struggle to breath under the intense pressure.

As a bitter breeze pushes its way through the gloomed room, a light thumping can be heard. It echoes around the thin, plastered walls, reverberating in my head. The dripping however, had almost come to a finish, the once cream carpet was now a puddle of crimson red, a puddle that seemed more like an ocean.

A sinful energy smothered the room, hanging in the atmosphere.It seemed persistent, as though it was clinging onto the air surrounding. It sent a chill down my spine making me shiver in a sickening reflex, a shiver despite the room being uncomfortably heated. The suffocating heat that was due to the ceiling fan that had been damaged, under unfortunate circumstances.

"How could you do this to me?"
I mutter under my breath.
"How could you do this to me?"
I repeat, my voice breaking as i raise it. Raw emotion leaks through the choked words, seeping through the cracks of the emphasised word that no longer held any meaning. An unsettling emptiness fills me but yet all the pain still resides in my head,only increasing; tears threaten to cascade.

I fix my icy and almost absent eyes into his cold ,distant, dull ones. The blue that had once been so brilliant was now grey, dead along with him. I scan his drained ,pallid face in a drastic endeavour for even a hint of emotion, a hint of life...alas i found myself with nothing. I grip onto his hand,numb; cold as dawn, stiff like a soldier on parade- yet still it was velvety and soft, much like his laugh once was (when did that change?)

All colour had drained, his once lightly sun kissed skin was now that of a corpse- pale and washed over with a pale green, blue at the lips. Ruby streams, his arm had wept, no wailed. Through the violent rush of the river i could make out an isolated tattoo. The tattoo i had designed, the tattoo i had convinced him to get, the tattoo i bore myself. I ran my fingers over it gently, a bitter feeling accompanied with it as my own burned with betrayal. It was a simple black outline of a dragon, illuminated with sparks of gold and ribbons of red- it had symbolised our family, it had symbolised our bond but now both dragons lay limp, dead.

I move my hand so that my ,now bloodied, fingers can delicately dance over the rope that supports his limp frail body. I clasp it as i take a deep breath, his corpse swaying at the motion. His neck is blue and bruised where the rope restricts him but i can't bring myself to remove his body, perhaps lie him down upon his bed for a final time.

I bring my hand to rest in his silky golden hair, twisting strands of it around my fingers, staining it as i do. I caress his cheek with my thumb, stroking away the lone tear that had fallen from his still eyes- even in death he was in pain. I go up on my tiptoes so i can place a final kiss join my brothers forehead, brushing his hair away as i did.