A/N – Please review. This was meant as a challenge for Laura, but she couldn't do it… so I said I'd write it for her instead.
Disclaimer – If it was mine, Vince and Howard would be doing more than just kissing on a roof once.
Bloodstained Razorblade
Vince looked from the crimson razor in his hand to the line of blood flowing steadily down his arm and regretted ever doing it. But he knew he'd had to. had to, to get away from everything. Everything in this room, the flat, the shop, Dalston. Because everything reminded him of the man he loved. The man he loved and the man who was now in Hawaii on his honeymoon.
Howard.
His arm was ruined, scars everywhere you could look. Both vertical and horizontal. Some you could tell had been there for weeks, they were turning white with age. Some had been there a few days, and a few were today's. But one of them… One of them… a strong, straight vertical line of scarlet fluid, still flowing manically. That one… Vince knew was going to kill him.
He emptied the sharp cut-throat blades from the razor onto the bright orange satin duvet. Picked one up and dug it into his wrist. Rubies flowed.
Vince hadn't worn anything short sleeved since he started cutting. He'd even stopped going out since Howard had told him he was engaged to Wendy. Wendy, what a typical name for a girl who loves Howard to have. The only times he went out was when Howard was on a date. When Howard did go out, so did Vince. But Howard had a quiet night out with his fiancée. Vince went to a club, got drunk, shagged some girl in a public toilet, went back to drinking, occasionally had a few fags, or an E, maybe a line of coke or a needle-full of heroin, went back to the dancefloor, found some guy, went back to his place and fucked him, waking up there the next morning, leaving, going home, crying and cutting.
Vince looked at the still steadily flowing crimson, spilling from his veins and grabbed a pen and some paper and ripped it into three…
Naboo…
I'm really sorry. I had to do this though, I had to escape somehow. Please don't forget me. Ever.
Vince x
Bollo…
I'm sorry. We had such good times, I know you will never forget me… please sell my clothes for a reasonable price in the shop. I'll put in a kind word for you with the reaper… I'll make sure YOU don't go to monkey hell.
Vince x
Howard…
It hurt so much to write to Naboo and Bollo, when I know they're going to read it after I die. So I'm dreading writing yours. This is the only time I know I'm ever going to get to pour my heart out to you. Y'know, there's an old saying, that you never notice yourself falling until you've fallen. I discovered that this is absolutely 100% fucking true. I don't remember myself falling in love with you. I just remember being in love with you. I never noticed the change from friendship to love… maybe I just loved you when I first met you. That's why I laughed when I heard it from you. I knew you couldn't mean it like I do. That's why I kept getting interested in girls… trying to take my mind off you. That's why I kissed you. I wanted to see if you'd kiss back.
Vince xxxxxxx
I don't know why I wrote all that. There's three simple words that could have told you how I feel.
I love you.
Vince fell backwards onto the bed, notes lying on his stomach and his right hand off the edge of the bed. The biro landed on his bedroom carpet with barely any noise. If you had been in that room, at that time, you would have thought the whole of London had gone silent.
Vince Noir had passed away but still there was cherry-red jewels falling from his left forearm, which lay flung above his head. Next to it, a bloodstained razorblade.
