*Chapter three... okay, I hope you're all enjoying this... I'll try to make
this chapter longer than the last... and maybe more descriptive - it
depends on my current mood and how my mood changes. o.O; Um... yeah. Beware
of heartbroken Yuki.*
Always - Chapter 3 - Silent Cries
Hiro stood in the hallway of the hospital... jus outside room 239 on the second floor. His back against the wall, he played with his hair as he awaited the finishing of the meeting between Yuki and Shuichi. He would be next in the room and the only reason why he wasn't in there now was because he believed Yuki needed to be alone with the singer.
It was hard... swallowing the truth - admitting that his best friend was near dead and hanging onto his life by a thin wire that seemed to bend and start to wither away at any given moment. He was glad that the paramedics were able to bring Shuichi back... but there was a part of him that thought Shuichi would have been better off left alone. Dead and void of all the pain he was most likely in now.
. . . . . .
The pink-haired boy had been thrown into a coma just after having the life jolted back into him. He couldn't move or speak... all he could do was hear and feel. No one knew what it was like to be in this position - to be able to feel the touch of others but to be denied the privilage of returning those touches. Shuichi had wanted to cry and scream about the pain he was in. He wanted to scream the name of his lover. But he couldn't. He couldn't do any of that.
All he could see was endless blackness accompanied by the little bouts of sparkles and odd shapes that led him down spinning spirals of squares and rectangles and into yet more blackness. He heard the faint sounds of footsteps on the hard tiled floor.. and he could smell the sweet fragrance that lingered around the love of his life. Only he smelled it, though, and only he knew how much it could change his surroundings - how much it brightened his day. Yuki was here.
. . . . . .
Yuki stopped beside the bed, golden hues fixated on the drug-induced Shuichi. It was making him sick - the thought of all the pain-killers the doctors had given the boy... and the blood transfusions. Oh, god, how he wished he could have donated his blood. He would give anything to see Shuichi smile again, to hear him laugh and call his name. He'd give his life for it...
Taking one of the boys abnormally pale hands in one of his own, he sighed and immediately began to choke back tears again. Shuichi was so cold - he felt like ice... he looked so sickly, so helpless... so... dead. He sneered, wrinkling his nose in anger as he turned his head away. "I should have kept you longer... I shouldn't have let you go. I'm so sorry, Shuichi. I didn't want anything like this to happen.. you have no idea how horrible this is for me." He paused and hung his head, "I should have been there for you..."
Yuki was blaming himself for this whole mess, for the pain Shuichi was in. His free hand carressed the boys cheek as his glance fell once more upon the bruised body of his lover. "I can't... deal with this, Shuichi. It hurts... It hurts so much. Too much." He was doing all he could to keep from crying. He wouldn't sink to so low a level again... like on the street with Hiro just days before. He didn't want to break down into a fit of tears and be reduced to no more than a weeping pile of flesh and bones.
It was bad enough Shuichi was in this mess and that he was blaming himself for it... but he was getting nightmares... and hot and cold flashes. He couldn't think straight, he couldn't write... He had only left his apartment to come here and visit the boy. ...Sometimes he couldn't even get himself out of bed. He couldn't deal with this. He couldn't stop everything in his life and put it on hold just because of Shuichi. He wanted to, he wanted to be here as much as he could for the youngster... but he couldn't.
. . . . . .
Shuichi was heartbroken, he knew what those words meant. Yuki was going to leave him... but he couldn't. No, Yuki couldn't leave him when he needed him this much. The writer was the only reason why he was fighting for his life - why he was trying so hard to stay here. '...No, Yuki...' he thought, now fully understanding the hate he had for himself for being in this mess. '...You can't...'
He tried to open his mouth, he tried to say something, anything... but it wasn't working. Nothing worked anymore. His thoughts were on an endless rollercoaster downhill, he could think of nothing but Yuki and being alone. He didn't want to spend this time alone - he needed Yuki to be with him! He needed him to hold his hand and tell him how much he loved him, he needed the semi-harsh words and the demands that he not give up on life.
All seemed lost as Yuki let his hand go.. and as the soft carresses started to melt away into nothingness. He was screaming inside, wanting to grab ahold of Yuki's sleeve and hold him there until he was better... until he could make Yuki happy again. He knew he was the reason why Yuki was upset. He was upset because he had gotten in an accident - that he was in a coma...
A single tear managed to escape the boy and streak down his cheek to collide with the lingering thumb of the older man just before the touch of the hand had gone completely. He wanted to die right now, he wanted to leave this world. There was no point in life without Yuki.
. . . . . .
The blonde blinked, turning on his heel before glancing behind him to look once more at Shuichi. He raised his hand and stared blankly at the salty liquid on his thumb. Turning to face Shuichi again, he managed to spot the dried trail left behind from the tear. Yes, he knew Shuichi heard everything... and he expected the boy to be upset... but he couldn't do this anymore.
Shaking his head, he shuffled over to the bed again and cupped the side of the boys face in his hand, a thumb wiping yet another stray tear from the boys motionless body. "I'm sorry, Shuichi." ..And he turned and left, shutting the door quietly behind him before passing Hiroshi just out in the hall.
He was convinced this was the only thing to do... and he just ignored the red-head's questions as he awaited the arrival of the elevator. He couldn't talk to the boy about what happened in the room. He would come to understand - especially when Shuichi woke up. If he was ever going to. He was certain the boy would spill everything.. he wouldn't leave a single detail out of the story. Hiro would know.. all in good time.
And as he left, pushing the main doors open and stepping out onto the pavement, he could have sworn he heard Shuichi calling his name and, for once, he wasn't afraid to fall to his knees and sob infront of everybody. He wasn't afraid of anything that would come because of it. This was more than crying now - it was more than the muffled sobs he shared with Hiro the day of the accident. This was an outpouring of all of his emotions at once - not just sadness or anger. This was everything.
"I'm so sorry."
*...Ah. So nice. I hope you enjoyed it. =D Please comment on it, I beg of you. ^-^ I worked hard on this chapter... obviously. Um... the next chapter will be on it's way and may possibly be posted soon because of Thanksgiving break. ^-^;;;*
Always - Chapter 3 - Silent Cries
Hiro stood in the hallway of the hospital... jus outside room 239 on the second floor. His back against the wall, he played with his hair as he awaited the finishing of the meeting between Yuki and Shuichi. He would be next in the room and the only reason why he wasn't in there now was because he believed Yuki needed to be alone with the singer.
It was hard... swallowing the truth - admitting that his best friend was near dead and hanging onto his life by a thin wire that seemed to bend and start to wither away at any given moment. He was glad that the paramedics were able to bring Shuichi back... but there was a part of him that thought Shuichi would have been better off left alone. Dead and void of all the pain he was most likely in now.
. . . . . .
The pink-haired boy had been thrown into a coma just after having the life jolted back into him. He couldn't move or speak... all he could do was hear and feel. No one knew what it was like to be in this position - to be able to feel the touch of others but to be denied the privilage of returning those touches. Shuichi had wanted to cry and scream about the pain he was in. He wanted to scream the name of his lover. But he couldn't. He couldn't do any of that.
All he could see was endless blackness accompanied by the little bouts of sparkles and odd shapes that led him down spinning spirals of squares and rectangles and into yet more blackness. He heard the faint sounds of footsteps on the hard tiled floor.. and he could smell the sweet fragrance that lingered around the love of his life. Only he smelled it, though, and only he knew how much it could change his surroundings - how much it brightened his day. Yuki was here.
. . . . . .
Yuki stopped beside the bed, golden hues fixated on the drug-induced Shuichi. It was making him sick - the thought of all the pain-killers the doctors had given the boy... and the blood transfusions. Oh, god, how he wished he could have donated his blood. He would give anything to see Shuichi smile again, to hear him laugh and call his name. He'd give his life for it...
Taking one of the boys abnormally pale hands in one of his own, he sighed and immediately began to choke back tears again. Shuichi was so cold - he felt like ice... he looked so sickly, so helpless... so... dead. He sneered, wrinkling his nose in anger as he turned his head away. "I should have kept you longer... I shouldn't have let you go. I'm so sorry, Shuichi. I didn't want anything like this to happen.. you have no idea how horrible this is for me." He paused and hung his head, "I should have been there for you..."
Yuki was blaming himself for this whole mess, for the pain Shuichi was in. His free hand carressed the boys cheek as his glance fell once more upon the bruised body of his lover. "I can't... deal with this, Shuichi. It hurts... It hurts so much. Too much." He was doing all he could to keep from crying. He wouldn't sink to so low a level again... like on the street with Hiro just days before. He didn't want to break down into a fit of tears and be reduced to no more than a weeping pile of flesh and bones.
It was bad enough Shuichi was in this mess and that he was blaming himself for it... but he was getting nightmares... and hot and cold flashes. He couldn't think straight, he couldn't write... He had only left his apartment to come here and visit the boy. ...Sometimes he couldn't even get himself out of bed. He couldn't deal with this. He couldn't stop everything in his life and put it on hold just because of Shuichi. He wanted to, he wanted to be here as much as he could for the youngster... but he couldn't.
. . . . . .
Shuichi was heartbroken, he knew what those words meant. Yuki was going to leave him... but he couldn't. No, Yuki couldn't leave him when he needed him this much. The writer was the only reason why he was fighting for his life - why he was trying so hard to stay here. '...No, Yuki...' he thought, now fully understanding the hate he had for himself for being in this mess. '...You can't...'
He tried to open his mouth, he tried to say something, anything... but it wasn't working. Nothing worked anymore. His thoughts were on an endless rollercoaster downhill, he could think of nothing but Yuki and being alone. He didn't want to spend this time alone - he needed Yuki to be with him! He needed him to hold his hand and tell him how much he loved him, he needed the semi-harsh words and the demands that he not give up on life.
All seemed lost as Yuki let his hand go.. and as the soft carresses started to melt away into nothingness. He was screaming inside, wanting to grab ahold of Yuki's sleeve and hold him there until he was better... until he could make Yuki happy again. He knew he was the reason why Yuki was upset. He was upset because he had gotten in an accident - that he was in a coma...
A single tear managed to escape the boy and streak down his cheek to collide with the lingering thumb of the older man just before the touch of the hand had gone completely. He wanted to die right now, he wanted to leave this world. There was no point in life without Yuki.
. . . . . .
The blonde blinked, turning on his heel before glancing behind him to look once more at Shuichi. He raised his hand and stared blankly at the salty liquid on his thumb. Turning to face Shuichi again, he managed to spot the dried trail left behind from the tear. Yes, he knew Shuichi heard everything... and he expected the boy to be upset... but he couldn't do this anymore.
Shaking his head, he shuffled over to the bed again and cupped the side of the boys face in his hand, a thumb wiping yet another stray tear from the boys motionless body. "I'm sorry, Shuichi." ..And he turned and left, shutting the door quietly behind him before passing Hiroshi just out in the hall.
He was convinced this was the only thing to do... and he just ignored the red-head's questions as he awaited the arrival of the elevator. He couldn't talk to the boy about what happened in the room. He would come to understand - especially when Shuichi woke up. If he was ever going to. He was certain the boy would spill everything.. he wouldn't leave a single detail out of the story. Hiro would know.. all in good time.
And as he left, pushing the main doors open and stepping out onto the pavement, he could have sworn he heard Shuichi calling his name and, for once, he wasn't afraid to fall to his knees and sob infront of everybody. He wasn't afraid of anything that would come because of it. This was more than crying now - it was more than the muffled sobs he shared with Hiro the day of the accident. This was an outpouring of all of his emotions at once - not just sadness or anger. This was everything.
"I'm so sorry."
*...Ah. So nice. I hope you enjoyed it. =D Please comment on it, I beg of you. ^-^ I worked hard on this chapter... obviously. Um... the next chapter will be on it's way and may possibly be posted soon because of Thanksgiving break. ^-^;;;*