Another oneshot from Johns POV. I let my self be inspired by Radiohead's "All I Need" and a fanart by reapersun (reapersun dot tumblr dot com slash image slash 35848470628)
I am a moth
Who just wants to share your light
I'm just an insect
Trying to get out of the night
I only stick with you
Because there are no others
You are all I need
You're all I need
I'm in the middle of your picture
Lying in the reeds
- Radiohead
When he jumped I fell with him. Only I never got to hit the ground. I got tangled in life and all its rampancy. It feels like I've lost a limb back then. I learned how to survive without it. I survived until now. Maybe I'm hallucinating. Maybe I fell asleep and I'm dreaming. Maybe I died and this is purgatory. There's a burning hole in my chest and it's eating me up. My body betrays me. To be honest, I don't really care if this is reality. I seize the moment and look at him, standing in the doorway, not daring to move. He doesn't look like I remember him. I'm not even sure it's him. Pale, weary eyes meet mine. He looks scattered. Soaked in rain, dark curls cling to his forehead, making his skin almost seem like porcelain. His sharp features are even more prominent than in my memory. Neither of us has uttered a sound. But I want to scream. I want to scream and yell at him for everything he's done to me. Pain washes through my body and laces my throat. I want to tear my skin open and release it. I can't bare it but I'm frozen. Red floods my head. I can't hear anything over the sound of red in my head.
I open my eyes when a stroke of pain shoots through my knuckles. He stares at me, a bit terrified, covering his nose. There is blood dripping through his fingers. I hit him again, this time aware and aiming for the jaw. Bloody bastard, he deserves it. I send him tumbling against the doorframe. I may be yelling, but everything is muted inside my head. I deal out blows, some of them missing their aim. But I don't care and I don't want to care. I don't know what I want. I don't know if I want him back. I don't know if I need him back after three years of surviving. I loose it. My facade is crumbling. I feel like a child, help- and defenseless. Three years. Three bloody years years. I might have said that out loud. I feel calmness embracing me. I burry my head in his chest, inhaling the scent of rain and tobaco. I ignore it.
I feel his skin brush agains mine, cold and wet. "I'm so sorry, so sorry." His voice soothes my pain. It's thin and shaky and I know that he's crying, too. I reach up and cradle his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair. Inhale. Exhale. I open my eyes to look at him. My mind has not yet touched reality. I may be dreaming after all. Cold, long fingers brush over my cheeks. Maybe I do need him after all. Everything blurs. I kiss him. I don't care anymore. I love him with everything I am and everything I owe him. He returns the kiss and I tase copper. We make up for everything we've missed out on. He pulls me closer and and breathes 'I'm sorry' between our kisses. I stop to look at him again.
"Punch me.", I demand beneath my breath.
"Why?"
"I wan't to make sure neither of us is dreaming."
He lets out a single sob and strips down all of my defenstes with a smile.