Author's note: I think I am a horrible person, my fanfics are so dramatic. Also I have these ideas, and I have tried not to publish any, but, I cannot resist, I must publish this, forgive me. Also I ship these two so much, they are just so beautiful together.
Comments are loved.
Prologue
He didn't know how it happened, it just did, he didn't notice until his vision was blurred by water, and he couldn't breathe anymore. He panicked and he tried to swim back up to the surface, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't go up. He felt as if he was being engulfed into darkness, everything was black, and he had begun to cry, but the water swept them away. The more he struggled, the more he got held back by the evil current, the wind rapidly moved the water, and he eventually managed to make it to the surface of the water, and gulped the air down, but he was soon shoved back down and thrown against a wall by the water's fast slick moves.
His vision began to go black and he reached his hand out desperately, he didn't want to die, he couldn't remember why he would want to, but he didn't want to go like this. Why was he at the bridge in the place he lived at anyway? Oh yeah, because the one he decided to spend the rest of his life with hurt him every day. But he knew that he loved him, despite how angry he got, and how many bruises he littered his body with, so it couldn't be just because of that, could it?
Ah, there are other reasons, around a certain time he had begun cutting himself, he felt numb, and he wanted to feel, so he grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and hid in the bathroom and gave his left wrist a long thin cut. It hurt, but it was the only thing he had ever felt in several years. Then there were the people who hurt him mentally, they all don't realize what they have done, because they all brushed off the sad face he gave them, like he would get over it, but only if they knew that it stuck to him like glue. Then his own father kicked him out of the house because he chose to tell his father that he was in love with a man, his father, being a very religious man, put him on the streets, he didn't care whether he had a place to stay or not, that was when he was sixteen, that same night he moved in with his boyfriend. His boyfriend was several years older than he was, so he already had himself an apartment, but the boy felt bad, so he got a job, but when they moved into a bigger apartment his boyfriend stopped working entirely, and he had to work another job just to pay rent. He of course said nothing, he told himself he deserved to work, because his boyfriend had loved him for so long, and even took him in when he needed it, so he did not complain about the arrangement to him at all.
By the time the boy had graduated high school, his boyfriend was becoming even more expensive, and he had to get a third job, and by then he turned nineteen, he was so worn out, his body looked like a walking corpse. Before, some people at his jobs would ask him if he was alright, and he would tell them that he was fine, so they eventually stopped asking, they were so used to the way he looked all the time now, and they never saw the bruises underneath his shirt, because he always wore turtle necks to cover them up, just so his boyfriend wouldn't get in trouble. How he showed love for that man, he remembers how sweet the kissing and love making used to be, and he really wants that back, but he understands why his boyfriend gets mad at him like he does, he's never home, he can't do anything right, and he hasn't shown him how thankful he is.
Oh how his boyfriend leaves such grotesque looking bruises. They were all so gross, but when he had figured out the boy was cutting he hit him so hard, and he handcuffed him to the guest room bed, and he left the window open, and oh how the boy froze, he had ended up getting badly sick, but still, when his lover took the cuffs off of him, he apologized for everything, and went back to working. He sometimes left cuts on him; sometimes he carved words into his body, and the boy knows they are there, because he has to look at them and he reads them, when he looks at himself in the mirror. The words always made him cry, they were all where he could see them, they were 'Slut', 'Freak', 'whore', and 'Retard'.
He faintly remembers his brother though, he was still in middle school when their dad kicked him out, he hardly remembers him, and their father forbids them from seeing each other, so he hardly talks to his brother. The only time he does is when his little brother sneaks a phone call to him, just to make sure he is alright, but, when was that again? Just a few days ago he is sure.
The boy hit a rock hard, but managed to grab on to it to keep himself above the surface, he held on with dear life, he gasped for breath, his vision was going black, and he couldn't hear a thing, but he could still see that it was raining hard. He looked around, trying to figure out how to get to the surface, but saw nothing close enough, and right above, he saw the bridge, and he saw someone standing there, he could hardly see them though, as his vision began to blur more. He panted and coughed more and extended his small hand toward the figure on the bridge, wanting it to come and help him. His whole body shook from the cold, and as he dropped his hand to get a better grip, he tried to kick his feet to help, and how he hated his short small body, it was always a burden to him to be so small and weak. He was always at the mercy of everyone he came across.
He felt himself slipping from the rock, and he felt himself let out air, he wasn't sure if he was screaming though, and he screamed at the figure for help, and he extended his hand out desperately as he slid off the rock completely. He screamed, hacked on water, and panted for help until his head hit another rock and his cries were silenced as he blacked out, and drowned in the water.