According to my computer, it is just after midnight here where I am, and I have a science competition tomorrow... Yeah, I'm not a responsible person.
PEWDIEPIE AND CRYAOTIC BELONGS TO NAUGHT BUT THEMSELVES, WHILE THE SONG 'SAFE AND SOUND' IS BY AND THEREFORE OWNED BY TAYLOR SWIFT AND THE CIVIL WARS
XXX
Cry stood at the top of an abandoned building as he stared disbelievingly at the sight before him.
"I'll never let you go Cry."
Dull, discolored eyes once so full of life stared back at him, just a shadow of the multitude of things it screamed at him before. Worry, fear, and simply 'Why? Why? Whywhywhywhywhy….'
But above all, they held love for him.
"Please, don't leave me here alone Felix."
Blood trickled out from the wound, where the handle of the knife was jutting out, the blade buried deep in the blonde's abdomen. There was blood. Too much blood. It was everywhere. It covered everything. The floors (artful, abstract splatters spread all over), their hair (it was almost impossible to discern their respective hair colors now), their clothes (soaked). And it was on his hands.
"Never Cry. Never as long as you promise to never leave me too."
"Deal!"
Eventually, after what seemed like centuries, Cry took a hesitant step forwards, his legs shaking just as badly as the rest of him. The smell of iron hung pungent in the air.
"Just close your eyes…"
He fell to his knees in front of Pewds' body, face contorting in grief and regret as he shakily tugged out the blade from its place, imbedded in freshly cut flesh. A spurt of blood splotched out, but Cry barely noticed.
"The sun is going down."
He threaded his fingers through blood-speckled hair softly, disentangling the knots and pulling out bits of dried blood out, revealing more and more of the familiar shade of blonde he was used to seeing first thing in the morning. A few tears leaked out of his eyes, once clouded over with insanity but now a clear emerald color that shone with moisture.
"You'll be alright..."
That same haunting voice echoed in his ears, a ghost of the past and what had once been. It was a song Pewdie used to sing to him in the late hours of the night, when Cry couldn't sleep or had woken up crying from the nightmares. He always held the brunette close, never anything but understanding and comforting even when, in the worst nights, Cry would wake him up (sometimes accidentally, sometimes intentionally) up to four to five times in one night.
"Come morning light…"
He was singing it now. It was ironic, he thought morbidly. Pewds used to sing it to him when he couldn't sleep. And now he was singing it to Pewds because he wouldn't ever wake up again.
"You and I'll be safe…"
Those eyes. Still the same, a somehow warm shade of blue speckled with grey at some places. Cry remembered them being so damn expressive, always giving out the Swede's feelings and thoughts for him when words were just not enough. Cry's voice cracked as he sang.
"And… Sound."
XXX
I blame the unhealthy combination of lack of sleep, overdose of caffein, and the large amount of time I have been devoting to watching PewdieCry fan-made and Cryaotic Videos (and of course the totally adorable BEARDLESS (have nothing against facial hair; just not a fan of it) Pewds in the recent episodes of Prop Hunt!).
So, review and all that jazz.
Flames will be used to... I'm too sleepy to think of something, honestly.