Don't kill me for this.
"Fang! Get out of the freaking bathroom; you've been in there for two hours!" I was yelling and pounding at the bathroom door. The rest of the flock was having lunch at the buffet of the hotel, but I was stuck in the hotel room with an overflowing bladder.
"Fang, I swear to God I'll break down the door if I have to!" No answer and I walked back a few steps and sprinted shoulder first into the door.
The rusted lock gave way easy, a bit too easy, and I plowed through the door like it was paper. But I couldn't stop myself in time for the wall and smacked into it.
Fang, strangely, was sitting in the bathtub with his wings open, a small, bloody knife loosely in his hand.
This was when I got worried.
I kneeled over the bathtub, looking at Fang, and I found where the bloody knife came from.
Both of Fangs wrists were slit almost down to the bone and his wings were cut from his back to the tip of his very last feather.
"Max," his voice was weak.
"Max, I love you, and that's why I have to leave you."
I stared at him in complete disbelief, but eventually I grabbed the knife from his hand, climbed in the tub, and said, "Fang, I love you too, and that's why I have to join you."
I pressed the knife against my neck, and swiftly dragged it across.
I let myself go weak, and I fell in the tub next to Fang, who was already dead. I put my arm around him, and watched our blood mixing together in the drain, dying slowly.