A young man stood in his bedroom. It just so happened that today was day the past four years were leading up to. I might not look like a big deal to other people, but today was the day of prom. He got dressed in an expensive suit his mother bought him, and went to pick up his date. She looked absolutely stunning, dressed in a flowing purple night gown. He couldn't have been happier.
The party wasn't that great, if he was being honest. The teens that didn't know how to dance were trying, his girl went who-knows-where, and he was left alone with a plastic cup of punch that didn't even taste good. Most people ignored him, but there was this guy whose eyes hadn't left him for a second. His best friend, Adam. He was also holding a cup of the cheap, disgusting punch, and he was coming closer. The cup was set on the tables with stained tops and Adam just kind of stood there for a minute.
"Do you wanna dance?" he asked. It was widely known that Tyler was bisexual, and strangely, no one had a problem with it like they always made it out in TV.
"Sure," Ty smiled and took Adam's offered hand.
The DJ founds that exact moment to be perfect to change the party's rhytm. The slow and romantic song came to an end and was rudely replaced by some pop song. Die young, thought Ty. He was actually a big fan of Ke$ha, though no one knew that.
They danced, Adam's face keeping somehow far away expression, and honestly, it was making Ty uncomfortable.
"What's wrong, Adam?" he asked when they were close enough, partially grinding against each other.
"It's just… we won't be able to see each other after this…" Adam said, holding onto Ty's hips.
"You silly," Ty laughed, "Of course we'll see each other again'!" he said, "But…" he patiently waited for the song to catch up to him, "Let's make the most of the night…"
—-
A strong shockwave shook the first mate's cabin. The man in question was currently fumbling with his cutlass, hastily making his way up the stairs onto the main deck.
His uncovered eye caught the sight of an enemy ship, their hooks buried deep into the wood of his own ship, and his blood boiled. How dare they?! His fingers shook around the cutlass and he threw himself head first into most of the fights that were taking their place on the deck.
He was left victorious, but at a bigger price he'd been able to hold. His trusty crew was left bloodied and unmoving on the wood that was always so delicately polished, his captain, his friend, having a cutlass impaled into his heart.
He was seconds away from the same fate, were it not for the other ship's captain, who barged onto his deck, bloody dagger in hand. They glared at each other, the first mate's brown locks covering the eye patch on his left eye. The other captain was dressed in a fancy vest and slacks, a beautiful golden parrot sitting on his shoulder.
He'd be attractive in the first mate's eye if not for that smug smile on his lips and the fact that his whole crew lay dead on the very deck he was kneeling on.
"You look nice," the captain said nonchalantly, like his crew didn't just cause a massacre on the brown-haired male's ship, "You can be my new first mate, and my mate!"
The tanned captain's laugh echoed on the otherwise silent deck and the one-eyed pirate was left a trembling mess, just barely holding back his sobs.
—-
The cold winter air was relentless and without faltering once kept blowing trying its hardest to move everything within its reach.
A young, brown haired man stood in the silent wind, dead in the night. Dead was a great comparison to how he felt.
He felt dead on the inside. Ever since his friend left, there had been this hole that not even the greatest vine could patch up together again. The man pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the tears from his blood-shot eyes, huddling tighter in his overcoat. His eyes once again scanned over the words that were engraved into his memory, and slowly turned around to walk back home, back to the silent, empty house that felt more like a prison.
There, behind him, the wind still blew, and the single unwithered yellow rose laid on top of a pile of rotten ones, covering the stone headstone of his friend's grave.
"Sky, always staying cheery in our memories."
—-
"YOU ALWAYS DO THIS!" he yelled, making my insides twitch. Why did we always have to end up shouting?
"I'm sorry, okay? YOU DON'T HAVE TO SHOUT!" I couldn't keep the irritation out of my voice.
"YES I DO, BECAUSE YOU ARE SUCH A PRICK AND YOU ARE SO LUCKY I LIKE YOU, OTHERWISE YOU'D BE OUT OF THIS APPARTMENT ALREADY!"
I stopped dead in my tracks, with a phone raised in midair. What? He didn't just-
He gasped, eyes widening and mouth shutting closed.
Did he just confess?
—-
"No… No you can't do that!" a voice tore through the stalee air of the hospital that smelled like medicine.
"I am terribly sorry, Mr. Lox, but your friend probably won't wake up anymore," the doctor in his mid-forties said calmly, looking into, no, straight through, the younger male's shining green eyes.
The eyes that were full of tears, making them reflect the hall's unnatural neon light.
"But…" he cut himself off with a sob.
"I am terribly sorry, I will give you 15 minutes to say goodbye," the doctor turned on his heels, this grey hair a blur in Ty's eyes.
The boy bust through the white door into the sterile room and slugged down onto the single chair beside the bed. His hand tangled into Adam's brown fringe, the curly locks feeling soft in his fingers.
"You can't do this to me, Sky… You can't let them- You have to… to wake up!" the pale man sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't even try to stop them, "Please… Please, Adam… Wake up- for me?" he pleaded, but nothing happened.
He broke down, whimpering and burrowing his face into the sterile, white sheets covering his friend's body. There was a hand on his shoulder then, and the same doctor stood next to him, a board with clipped papers in his hand.
"I'm really sorry. You can stay to watch if you want." Ty nodded, he was not going to leave Adam until the very end. The doctor stood in front of the machine. The machine that kept his Adam alive.
With a single press of a button, the machine that monitored Adam's heartbeat started beeping, signaling that Adam's heart stopped beating.
That second, Tyler's world crumbled.
—-
He jolted awake, covered in cold sweat. His eyes darted the white wall before setting on the half covered boy laying in the bed.
Thank god.
He sighed in relief, hand grasping Adam's and eyes filling with tears. He squeezed tightly, feeling the warm skin that he wouldn't allow to go cold if it was the last thing he did.
"Adam…" he whispered, "Please, please, please! Wake up…" he was getting harder to understand with each sob, leaving him a crying mess, "Adam… No… You- you HAVE to wake up… they… they will… Adam please… Please… Sky… come on…! You have your- your army to rule… Please wake up… they need you… And I do, too… Please… I can't- live without you… Adam… I love you… please wake up…!"
Through his own quaking, he barely registered when the tanned fingers twitched in his grasp. His eyes flew open, head snapped up, utterly shocked expression locked onto the calm one of his friend's. Emerald eyes, stained with tears, gazed into the soft chocolate ones.
"A-Adam…?" Ty's voice was soft now, his hand running down Adam's cheek, making sure he wasn't dreaming again. Adam smiled gently at him, his hand raising to touch Ty's.
"Hey, Ty," Adam's voice croaked, hoarse from not being used, "I heard you. Everytime," he said, his soft smile widening, "I felt so bad for making you sad…"
"You idiot!" Ty screamed, throwing himself at Adam just as some doctors entered the room. "Don't you dare feel bad!"
—-
There was a certain sense of dejavú as he watched the human smash buttons on his controller. He had no idea why he chose this human, but it was obvious he needed help. It felt like they met already.
Did they meet before he died? Before was granted another chance and the ability to give others another chance? Before the painful process of the white feathered wings sprouting from his back?
He couldn't be sure.
He could, however, be sure that the human was anything but okay, as he kept saying to his friends through his headset. The way he kept scratching his arms through the thin fabric of his long-sleeved shirt said otherwise.
Everytime the razor touched his skin, it wouldn't just leave a scar on him. No, it left a painful gash in the heart of the curly-haired angel that had to witness every scene of it. He tried counting the day when he cut, but his counting stopped after the day 162. In a row.
After that, he made it his daily duty to look through the whole house and hide all the razors, some days even all the kitchen knifes, when the teen felt especialy bad.
The angel's arms often wrapped around the lithe, thin teen when he was sitting on the sofa watching TV, the ghost of a touch instantly making the teen feel a little bit better. It reminded him of his old boyfriend, the boyfriend that died in front of his very eyes.
The boyfriend that he couldn't save.
—-
„Off with his head!" the deep voice rang through the town square, all eyes turning to look as the King took his seat on the throne set next to the gallows. The King's eyes, deep brown, gazed into the face of the condemned.
The pale face, the green eyes, the brown locks that fell over one of it, all of it was very familiar, like he knew this man.
But this man, even though seemingly familiar, broke the law. He sentenced himself.
So the King just sat and watched as the executioner raised his polished, sharpened axe and swung it downwards, in one hit severing the man's head off his neck.
But, unlike with the other executions, the King's insides twisted in guilt.
—-
Ty had his eye on him the whole night. The man was beautiful, tall, tanned and was probably looking for a good fuck. So when the two started talking, it was no surprise that after buying him a few drinks, the man, who introduced himself as Sky, took him to his apartment.
Clothes were discarted in a matter of seconds after closing the door.
It might not have been getle and loving, but it felt so good, the pleasure better than with anyone else he'd ever had. He didn't care what was happening, his body was only registering pleasure and when it was over, he wished it would happen again.
He wished he could get to know Sky, to become at least friends, but he knew this was only a one night stand.
—-
Ty was pressed against his locker, the lock pressing painfully into his lower back. His eyes were scrunched closed and he daren't open them, instead patiently awaiting the blow that the bully would inflict in a few seconds. His shirt had been grabbed, his body smashed against a locker.
„Hey, faggot," had been hissed at him, and now he just waited to get beaten again.
But instead of the awaited blow, he had been let go of, and he hesitantly opened his eyes.
The bully had been thrown across the hallway and there was a teen that Ty didn't know standing over him now.
Wait. No, that was the new kid that came here a few days ago. They had quite a few classes together, but the kid – Adam, was his name? – never made any move to talk to anyone.
Now he had been saved from another beating by him. He was confused, before Adam offered him a hand and pulled him up onto his feet.
„Uh… Thanks…" Ty mumbled, cheeks flushed pink.
„Come on, we need to get to the class," Adam smiled at him and pulled him through the staring crowd, not giving them an ounce of his interest.
From then, they became inseparable.
—-
A young man was sitting on a park bench, dressed in a white v-neck and black skinny jeans, with green headphone on his ears, gently swaying to the tune. He was quite obvious to the world around him, lost in the tunes of a mash-up of Ke$ha's songs.
There was another young male in the park then. He was tall, tanned, pretty and looked kind of lost in thoughts as he walked down the cobblestone path. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses and there was a golden pendant with a smaragd inside flopping on his grey shirt as walked.
He was probably going to just walk past the benches and be on his merry way, but fate just wouldn't have it. He tripped on the path, but caught himself. He snapped back to the present and took a moment to look around.
His eyes fell upon the young man sitting on the bench, gently humming the song. He felt a sudden sense of dejavú. He gasped and quickly picked himself up from the ground, very thankful that they were in the park alone.
"Ty?" he asked tentatively, putting a hand on the man's shoulder.
The man opened his eyes and pulled his headphones down so they laid around his neck, the tune now clear for the tan man to hear.
"Let's make the most of the night, like we're gonna die young!"
The chocolate haired man gasped and jumped from his seat on the bench. „A-Adam?!" he shouted unbelievingly as he tried to push his bangs from his covered eye. No, he had his left eye, what was he thinking?!
„Is this really you?" he asked, thoughts and memories flooding his brain.
„Yes, Ty," Adam said and hugged Tyler tightly, the two of them slowly starting to sway to the beat of Ty's headphones.
„I'll never let you go."
„I'll never let you die."
„Never again."