I'm in an angsty mood and therefore can only write angst. I'm so very sorry on the delay of updates on my other fics, please forgive me. I'll update as soon as I can.
I'm always a mess each day & I have so much to do, so much to study for...
I'm horribly sorry & hope you can forgive me.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.
Tears drop to the floor and he storms out into the rain.
He grabs his coat and shouts one final time, slamming the door.
You race up the stairs to your bedroom, searching high and low.
Keys, keys, keys.
You fumble and flip some files over, damn it, where are the keys?
You finally find the keys, placed on your bedside table.
How did you miss that?
Frustrated, you run out of the door and lock it.
Getting into your car, you remember that he has a convertible.
His top was down.
You start up the engine and worry hopelessly as you wonder how he'll make it in the rain.
Stopping outside his house, you find that the door is unlocked.
Bad idea, bad idea.
Thoughts chorus in your mind as you get into the house, noticing muddy footprints on the doormat.
He never takes off his shoes in the house.
Never.
You take off your shoes and place it on the shoe rack, noticing the coat and his hat dropped messily on the floor.
He never did that. The porcelain boy was always clean.
You run to the stairs that lead to his bedroom and start your descend.
Down, down, down.
Just like the spiral he is going down now.
You freeze as you see the door ajar.
What are you waiting for?
You wanted this.
You push the door open a little more, silenced by the sight in front of you.
A lithe figure, sobbing his heart out as he sits in the middle of his bed, soaked through.
You stop for a second.
Then you stride forward, noticing how he freezes when he hears you come forward.
Screw this.
You wrap your arms around his shaking body and pull him close to you, murmuring 'sorry's into his hair.
He stiffens for a second, and you notice something wet, something warm on your hand.
Drip, drip, drip.
The red is all over his trousers, all over your hand, all over his wrist.
There's a parallel cut on his wrist.
You panic and search the room for the first-aid kit he had insisted on having in his room.
Corner, in the corner!
Disinfecting the cut, you start to feel tears pooling in your eyes.
My fault, my fault, my fault.
He hisses when you place the bandage on his wrist and you kiss his cheek, apologizing for hurting him more.
He stops shaking when you finish bandaging his wrist.
You expect to be yelled at.
You deserved it. You did this.
You start crying, telling him not to leave you, that you need him, that you were sorry.
He cradles your head, shushing you and kissing your head gently.
His bandage scratches your lips and you cry even harder.
He lifts your head up and looks into your hazel eyes with his glasz ones.
You stop crying and sniffle as you decode the message in his eyes.
A small, weak smile graces his lips.
"I'm sorry."
So, yeah. So much angst going on right now. I decided to write it down! (:
As I've said, I'm terribly sorry for the long delay in updates. I promise to write more after the angst blows over.
My friends are calling it Project Angst.
xxmysticflare