i know u said i didn't incline to do anything - but i found your prompt so fantastic, that it would be a waste for me to throw the idea away. hope you'll enjoy it. warning: anorexia, death.
mikeaugustus; summer
as requested by: ColorM
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Mike went off that summer and Augustus begged him not to go; don't leave me here, Mike; I can't stand these people - but he had to and he promised he'd call and two weeks before school started, he'll be back home (and it's probably one of the rarest time ever he'd say something without so much as a snarl).
"Don't get yourself into trouble when I'm not around, you got me?" Mike told, and Augustus promised.
He had broken a promise.
Augustus couldn't breathe - oh no help me help me mike please come back - and they kept taunting him and asking him where his "boyfriend" is and "Mike is not my boyfriend!" (although he might as well be) and they kept reassuring him that he's sick and Mike wasn't there to tell him to, "Fuck them. They don't know nothing. You're healthy. You're good." And it tortured him, slowly and painfully - and he stayed in his room and he thought of Mike's last word and his promise and he thought about how he's breaking this promise, that might just break him.
Because his letter wasn't neat when he had written them, and there were tears - a lot of those, that he knew Mike would cringe - and his sentences weren't sincere and reckless and stupid, although he wanted it to be special. After all, it was his last ones.
And so Augustus took that one gun his papa hid under his drawer and shakily forced it to his head and - with a deep breath - pulled the trigger.