I'm… not sorry. Whoops.

DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING

Jean had always thought that falling in love would be a little like dying. He thought it would be feeling dizzy and having pains in your chest. He didn't want to fall in love because he thought it would hurt. In truth, however, it was painless.

It didn't hurt at all for Jean to fall in love. He didn't feel dizzy, he felt giddy. The pains in his chest were more like butterflies, a show of silent fireworks exploding in his heart.

It was utterly painless to fall in love with Marco Bodt, and Jean wouldn't trade it for the world. Rather, he would have given the world to keep Marco by his side forever. He would have given anything to always wake up to Marco's smiling face, eyes shining like the stars and with too many freckles to count.

Jean had fallen in love with Marco, so why couldn't he tell him? Why couldn't he just tell him?

No matter how many times he said it, it wouldn't matter. Each 'I love you' went unheard, whispered in the dead of night when no one could hear him. His words would never reach Marco's ears, because the dead can't hear. Marco would never hear Jean tell him how much he loved him, and he wouldn't see Jean cry.

Jean supposed this was the painful part of falling in love, the part where you missed your chance to tell them how much you love them. The part where they end up with someone else, or they die.

The part where reality hits you and your happy ending burns to the ground.

This was the part where Jean wanted to disappear completely, vanish into the night and never return. The part where he wanted to die. The part where he developed a regret that he would have for the rest of his life, which he hoped wasn't long.

Every day he hoped that something would end this, that something would send him home, back to Marco. But every day he was 'lucky'. Every day he lived on while Marco waited in the afterlife, already gone. It wasn't fair, but Jean couldn't bring himself to end his own life. He couldn't do it, no matter how much he just wanted this to be over. He couldn't go out like that. It's not what Marco would have wanted.

So he kept going, no matter how much he hated it, because he didn't want to disappoint Marco.

But today was different.

Today, there was shouting.

Today, there was blood running into Jean's eyes.

The world around him was collapsing into chaos, but Jean felt more at peace than he had in two years. He let himself relax. He felt pressure on his whole body, squeezing him tightly. He could never bring himself to end his own life, but maybe Marco would be alright if he let something else kill him.

Maybe… maybe that would be alright with Marco. He heard his friends shouting for him, but it didn't matter.

Jean closed his eyes, and after a moment, it was quiet. Nothing hurt anymore.

"Jean?"

He opened his eyes, a familiar face swimming into view, with eyes like stars and too many freckles.

"Jean."

"Marco."

Jean didn't need anything else as he threw his arms around Marco. He'd given the whole world to get here, but he was finally home.

I'm so sorry.