AN: I was listening to Baby Don't Cut by BMike. It's been out about 3 years now. Look it up on Youtube. If it sounds choppy, it's supposed to. I wrote this oneshot listening to the song. So...please don't shoot me. I promise its the ONLY ONE I'LL EVER WRITE WHERE ONE OF THEM DIES.
A text.
Three words. An apology.
He runs from his class to find his love's car missing from the parking lot.
Running to his bike, he climbs on, doesn't bother with safety. Cranks the engine, zooms out of the parking lot to his home. He hopes he isn't too late. Fear making it impossible to concentrate.
Reaching the driveway, he cuts the engine. Leaves the key in the bike.
Without knocking, he barges in and runs up the stairs.
"Baby! Please! Don't do it! Please! I love you! I love you so much! You aren't alone anymore! Baby!"
He bangs on the bathroom door, hearing the water. He panics, kicks down the door.
His heart stops. His breathing….stops. He sees his love in the tub, about to slice open his skin a third, no, fourth time.
"Baby…"
Panic green meets saddened blue.
Rushing forward. He stoops to turn the water off. Taking the phone out, dials 911.
"911. What is your emergency?"
"I need an ambulance. My boyfriend is losing too much blood! Please! I need help!"
"An ambulance is on its way sir."
A click. A shudder. A hurried kiss and whispered I love you.
Cloth meets skin, "stop the bleeding, stop the bleeding, stop the bleeding!"
Another apology. A strangled explanation.
Sirens. A gurney. "Oh god, please let him be alright."
2 years later
"Baby…I miss you. Why? Why did you feel the need to do it? I wish I had you back…."
He sits on the stoop, holding a black and white beanie. There was too much blood loss, the doctor said. There was nothing more we could have done. He cut a vein. He cut too deeply. I'm sorry, son. He's gone.
A tear slides down his freckled cheek. A strangled sob.
"Double Dee….I Love You."
"You promised..." He whispers to no one in particular.