This is the first time I've written a jeanmarco fanfic, it's also the first time I cried writing anything. It's short, but it's really cute! ...okay sorry I lied...
This will probably become a series of short-stories. Some will be sad and angsty (like this one) but others will be really cute (like the one I'm working on right now, I will not tell you any details tho).
Also, this was a prompt from one of my friends. I hope you'll like it, and cry yourself to sleep, dear 3
Disclaimer: Since I own this whole series and everything I suppose this fanfic will make the pairing canon... or not, at least let me have dreams.
Jean couldn't do anything else but stare at the corpse in front of him, the only thing left of his best friend. The remains of his massacred body stared up at him, judging him with his cold and empty eyes. 'Why weren't you here when I needed you? Why didn't you save me?' A shiver crawled up Jean's spine, made him shudder. "Ma-marco...?" He swallowed hard. It was not possible, it couldn't possibly be Marco, just some random dude who looked just like him. It was not his Marco, not his Marco. At least that's what he tried to convince himself of. But he knew...
He knew the man on the street, with his half-eaten body thrown against the wall. He'd watched his sleeping face for so long, seen his face twisted in pain and fear. He'd been by his side at nights when the memories of his former home kept him awake, comforted him while holding back his own tears. Always always by his side, together forever. Or that's how it was supposed to be, but it wasn't. Not anymore. Yet while looking at Marco's body, he kept telling himself it was just a bad dream; a terrible nightmare. That he'd wake up in the morning and Marco would be smiling at him like always. He'd be looking at him with his with the same friendly expression as usual.
He opened his mouth, reaching out his shivering hands towards the older male. "Oi, wake up..." Jean let his fingers slide over Marco's cold body, over his freckled face. "Marco..." He leaned down, closed the distance between them. "Don't leave me Marco." Marco kept staring back at him; cold, empty, dead. "Ma..." The rest of his name got cut off as Jean began to sob. "Please Marco, I beg you... Don't die." Tears slowly began to sipper down his cheeks. He cried out his name, over and over. Reminiscing about the past, the time they shared. He sat down beside the crippled body, took Marco's left hand in his. "You know, I never got to say it when you were alive. But I..." He slowly began, closing his mouth halfway into the sentence. It was no longer any idea to tell him. He was already gone.
A freckled angel stood in front of the mourning boy, smiling sadly. Before he knew it he was kneeling down, and embracing the man sitting side by side holding hands with his corpse. "Jean, I already know what you are going to say. I figured it out ages ago." He murmured softly into the blondes ear. "I knew it, but never said anything at all. I pretended to be asleep while you whispered it to me, while you kisses me..." He muffled his sobs and continued with tears flowing down his transparent face, dripping onto Jean's shoulder as he whispered everything into his ear. "The only regret I have in life, is not telling you my own feelings." Slowly he moved his face and lightly brushed against the other boy's lips with his own. "I love you Jean. Farewell my love... Until we meet again."
I'm so sorry! Don't hate me, I warned you! Still, review and tell me what you think about it.
Guess I'm done now, and next short-story will probably be done by tomorrow. So see you later!