Another random...thing. :/
Music: Hallelujah cover by justinrobinett on Youtube. :) (they're awesome)
Enjoy!
The steady tick of the clock was like a heartbeat for the room; the only indication of life.
Dreary walls covered in cracked paint and dusty posters, and a floor that had long since given up on maintaining its silence were the base of this hollow creature. The few bits of furniture present: a bed and a low table with a small fridge stacked to one side, were not enough to give the so called home its much needed characteristics.
Suddenly, the aged door slid open, and the room's heartbeat was overshadowed by several soft thumps. Slowly, a figure walked into the room, tossing a ragged knapsack to the side before they collapsed onto the bed, ignoring the loud groan of protest from the object.
Blue eyes stared up at the ceiling, tracing the jagged lines of fading paint and wood, before slowly they slid shut into the welcoming darkness.
"I want to fight you..."
Lips pressed together into a tight frown and the crystalline orbs reopened, cold and empty.
"You already have...multiple times..." he whispered.
The heartbeat of the room continued, echoing in the following silence. Tan hands absently threaded with the strings of the old duvet, scrunching and winding and twirling before smoothing them out and starting the strange cycle all over again.
"It wasn't meaningless...you have become my closest friend..."
A brow furrowed in annoyance before the body rolled over completely, staring lifelessly at the wall in an almost childish attempt to hide away from the echoes of the past.
"You have become my closest friend..."
Eyes slid shut and hands gripped the comforter harder, a faint rip sounding.
"You're such a liar..." he murmured to the empty room, curling in on himself even more. His bare feet slid over the duvet, toes twitching at the tickle of threads against skin. Fingers unclenched and spread out while the right hand slid up to rest above the second heartbeat in the room. A steady thump against the inside of his flesh and his eyes opened.
"It wasn't meaningless..."
It wasn't meaningless, he had said.
If that was true...
"You're a complete twit."
He snorted, his lips forming a brief smile at his own comment. He rolled over, blond hair fanning out until he laid blue eyes on the only object decorating the side table. The photograph of his beloved team, and the black eyes drew him instantly. Opening his mouth wider, he spoke loudly.
"You hear me? You're a complete and utter moron!"
The picture didn't move, of course. But the blue eyes turned into a glare at the unresponsive object and he sat up, clenching his fists.
"You're an asshole! A jerk! A complete prick with a huge piece of ice stuck up your ass! You're nothing but a cold-hearted, selfish bastard! You hear me, you chump? You dick? You son of a bitch?.!"
He was moving off the bed, grabbing the photo and glaring down at those cool black eyes that haunted him every day of his life. The wood of the frame creaked under his grip and a splinter imbedded itself into the tan skin with relish, pearls of blood seeping out into freedom.
"When I...When I get my hands on you, you're going to be so fucking sorry!" he strained out, a sudden wetness in his eyes. He hurriedly blinked, reaching up to wipe it away. A frustrated moan slipped into the air and suddenly the picture was thrown onto the floor forcefully as shoulders began to tremble.
"I'm going to kick your ass for this!"
The voice was thick like cream, broken like fragile porcelain and filled with an emotion that could create a river in the mountains.
"You're...You are..."
"It wasn't meaningless...You have become my closest friend..."
Knees collided with the old floor, gaining a pained creak even as white knuckles rubbed against streaming eyes like a tiny child. The heartbeat of the room was silenced by the soft sobs of the figure in the centre.
A droplet of salty water slid down tan skin and landed onto the photo below, splashing right onto the pale face with those haunting dark eyes. The liquid streamed down into smaller drops, creating artificial tears on that visage that was so conceited, so cold...
So fake...
"You bastard..."
That mask that had only been transparent to the tearful blue eyes now seeping with salt water. A tick of the clock became deafening when all else was silenced.
"You have become my closest friend..."
"...And you're the worst best-friend..."
The dark eyes in the photo which had been so empty and cold...decorated now with the liquids of sorrow; suddenly looked remorseful.
Feedback is lovely! ^_^