Wind noise
Sparkling, moss green irises that are bursting with happineess. Burnt honey hair.
Reddened plush lips, that are arranging themselves to say "I love you". Delicate, slightly tanned skin. Subtle, beatiful hands. Fit, perfect silhouette...Warmth ,brightness... the scent of the grass.
Perfection.
-Perfection? It's just a pretty boy.
It is so beatiful, warm day.
-Beatiful? It's a rainy, cloudy day. Trust me.
He's happy.
- Happy? He can't be happy. He doesn't feel anything anymore. Trust me.
He says "I love you".
- I love you? No. It's just a noise of the wind. Trust me.
Look, he's with the one he loves.
- With him? No. You are wrong again. He loved this brunette. Trust me.
Look again. He's really happy with that boy.
- There? But nobody's there. The place is empty. That boy is gone. Trust me
But they are sitting under the tree. Look
- Sitting? There is only one boy, standing. He is crying above the grave. Trust me...
Closed, dark circled eyes, from which life got away long time ago. Burnt honey hair. Purple lips, that sometimes seem to be painfully white. Lips are dead. Delicate, ice cold, purple skin. Subtle, stiff hands, crossed on still chest. Skinny silhoutte, yet still so beatiful...Rain,darkness...Only candles enlighten the murk by the coffin.
He was so young. He could be so happy. So much things that he missed out.
- He was young? True. But most importantly he was too weak.
He has so purple lips.
- Purple? I think they are white. That's the natural order of things.
He isn't breathing. Look. He isn't breathing!
- How can he breathe? He is dead.
He has stiff, cold hands. Touch them.
- Cold? They're like ice. That's the natural order of things too.
Look how dark it is. These candles. I'm scared.
- You're scared? That's nonsense.
So few people. I see that brunette. He's kissing him.
-Kissing? But he's kissing a dead person.
He bids his farewell. Looks how he's crying. That tall man has to drag him away from the coffin.
- Crying? For me it's a exaggeration. Really.
He lost his meaning of existence.
- Meaning of life? It's just death. A death of another suicidal. Nothing new.
Look there. Look. Please, look there.
- Why? Can you finally understand that this boy died. Everyone will die someday.
Who you are by the way? Why you look so calmly at this?
-...
Why are you quiet? Say something. Who are you?
- It's okay...
What are you talking about?
- He's happy. Mind your own business. I took him from his own will.
Are you...? It's not possible.
- Leave. I want to take him with me now.
What? But why ? Where?
- You ask to many questions. But I will answer you, dear Life. I will try to take this boy away from you as fast as possible. I will take him. Soon...
It's you, you are taking away these people...Death...you can't! He has only 29 years. He's still a kid.
I can do everything. Last time, a year ago he ran away from me. But he won't do it again...
_..._
So I took this under consideration, and I cam to conclusion that it better suits for Dean to die in THIS story, becuase it'as just makes sense last time i made Castiel die (idk why) so now i re-wrote it hope you like it..kisses ox
Leyla Anders