"Loving you...I can't say those words myself, I don't think I'll be able to ever but I do know that you have made me feel human. You have made feel me human for the first time in my life."

"You are such an idiot sometimes, James."

"Please don't risk your life, ever again! You do that, I will go mad!"

"I'm not the type to say sorry. I'm not the type to feel. I am the type that does like to be right though, and I know I'm right to place my trust in you."

"Everything I said in my vows, all those pointless gasps of breath...I don't mind taking a breath between words if they are words for you."

James wiped at the tears in his wide, child-like hazel-green eyes. The hazel-green had paled, instead overtaken by a smoldering golden-red. The brunet ran a hand through his short, messy hair and got out of bed. He shuffled through the closet for a pair of jeans, a plain white t-shirt, a black hoodie and a pair of boots.

He could feel the tears run down his cheek again, hotter and harder this time around, but ignored them to the best of his ability as he went to the bathroom and turned on the light. The lone mirror soon became foggy as steam filled the room, his pajamas all bunched up on the small, dark blue carpet as he disappeared behind the glass door and let the warm water run down his smooth, caramel-colored skin.

James allowed himself to break down, hidden away in the steam. The servants wouldn't be able to hear his tears, his gasps for breath, and silent prayers to God while he was in the hot, sterile-smelling clouds of vapors.

"Must you take so long to get ready in the morning? I mean why bother, wasting time on 'beauty' products when you're already the epitome of beauty? Honestly James, must you?"

"You're the only person who can make tea right, that I know of of course. But then again I don't feel like drinking tea made by someone other than you."

"James...I like this. Us close, don't tell anyone I'm a cuddler though or I'll never hear the end of it."

"Hahaha, dare I say it? You look cute with my scarf on...yes, very adorable."

Once he had dried off and got dressed, he went for the tea set resting on the coffee table Erin had gotten for their bedroom. He picked up one of the cups, small and painted black.

Even though all the cups, a set of five, were all small and painted black Erin chose this one always. James always pondered how he knew that was "his" cup, as everyone in the house has dubbed it. He had questioned his husband about it several times before, and all he's ever gotten as an answer was a smile and wink.

And these words: "Darling don't fret, this cup will never replace you".

'And I can't replace you, honey...' The brunet thought as he bit his lower lip, placing the pot and cups on a long, silver tray before packing them away into the china cabinet. He grabbed his hoodie, laying on the nicely made bed, and pulled it on, making sure his shirt was tucked in.

Even though it wasn't a dress shirt or anything close to that nature, James remembered Erin always told him to tuck his shirt in.

"Darling, tuck your shirt in. I know you don't like to show off, but I do and I wish to do so with you at the event this evening. You are beautiful, like a precious stone and I like to show off what I adore."

James ran a finger over the simple, gold wedding band on his left hand ring finger. He closed his eyes again, having cleaned up his gloomy demeanor, and took a deep breath; he moved that very hand, his left hand, to rest over his chest. His heart, only half whole and bleeding even with the two years that have passed was still crying.

Crying, wishing that this was all just a nightmare. A nightmare he can wake up from; if he woke up, then Erin would be here again…

Erin.

The sunlight outside poured into the room, striking a picture frame on James's bedside table. The frame was small and checkered black-and-white, the glass cleaned so often it shined like a church window. It was the only picture James had on his bedside table, the only picture that has never been moved from its spot there.

'Erin.'

James reached the bedside table in three, quick strides, picking it up with both hands and tracing the faces behind the glass.

He, at eighteen at his wedding. His hair was a bit longer in this picture, face youthful and beautiful as ever but eyes a bright hazel-green. Nothing like the smoldering golden-red they have taken to as of late. His white suit, custom made and simple yet casual, hair carefully brushed back, hands resting on his late husband's chest.

Erin, Erin Masters.

Tall, dark and handsome. Pale, soft skin that went well with his short dark brown, almost black, hair. It was usually straight but in this picture it was curly, and James loved it. Erin looked good with straight hair, but the soft curls really brought out his high, well chiseled cheekbones. His eyes, a starling blue-green, were brighter than usual. His suit, coal black with a blue pocket handkerchief, hugged his thin, tall frame well. He had his right cheek pressed to the top of James's head, his arms around his younger lover's waist.

Their weddings rings stole the moment in this picture; small, simple bands of gold that represented everything for them: love, trust, friendship, support, admiration.

And James wore his ring to this very day. He hasn't taken it off ever since they got married, and hasn't had the thought ever since Erin passed away.

His mom Brooke was there, along with a few close others Erin knew. It had been a simple ceremony, small but still beautiful and had been the happiest, most wonderful day in the young couple's time together. So much to think about, their future uncertain yet bright. Erin going on as one of the most well-known authors of this century, James thinking about going to college to study the arts.

So many plans, so many dreams together.

It didn't matter to James if he was eighteen and Erin had been thirty-five when they had gotten married. It didn't matter to him that they were so different, from different lives and worlds. They had planned to live whatever time they had left together, happy and driven.

And then life just had to take Erin away…

'I love you, and I...I-I wish you were here with me.' The brunet placed the photo face down on the table, grabbing his school bag hanging off his desk chair before leaving the room.

He couldn't afford to delay the day any longer; he had to get to school.

Yet that thought of hearing his professors drone on, dealing with simple-minded teenagers and overall horrible higher education system did not make the pang he felt at the spaces between his fingers hurt any less.

Here's the first chapter of a new story! It will be pretty...interesting, but please give it a try and tell me what you think! It's AU, will have Kames but obviously before Kendall James had someone in his life! Again, give it a try and tell me what you think! Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush! All I own is the plot and the OC that is the mysterious Erin Masters.