Authors notes: Many, many thanks to my wonderful beta Kat. You are the best, hon:) By the way, lyric at the beginning are from the song "Blowers daughter" byDamien Rice. That line struck a BJ chord within me.
Warning : 2nd person fic. Brian POV
Disclaimer: This is only for fun. Cowlip & Showtime own it, not me.
...I can´t take my mind off of you...
Part 1
It's been a week since you stopped breathing. Living. Seven days since you watched the rest of your pathetic life flash before you every time you closed your eyes. And all that time spent in his arms didn't soften your fall or tone down your thick-headed pride.You just knew what was about to go down the moment your eyes met. Because he was The one born to break you down. To make you do things you never did. Or thought of doing. Make you bleed love, while you rip off the heart he wore on his sleeve. That was your sole mission in life. You would make him feel your pain. your love. The deep-rooted sadness, that you so stoicly carried around. A weight of the world on your shoulders.
As you watched him leave, across the river of bodies you could care less about, you felt sick. All your insides mashed into a ball of pain and dissapointment…It made you wish you were more successful back in the days. Back when your only wish was to stay young and beautiful forever. Days, when the silkiness of a white scarf didn´t mean gas fumes, dried blood or cold cement. Nights, when all you could think of were sky blue eyes and sunny smiles. Wild passion and fear of unknown. You would've sold your soul to get those nights back now.
To feel alive once more.
And not so horribly alone.
A time before Brian Kinney stepped off the proverbial cliff into abyss of unending innuendos and non-promises. Non-promises you gave to yourself, but never to him. You can't break them, if you don't aknowledge them, you told yourself. What a fucking liar you are! So, you tried so damn hard to convince the world, that you didn't give a fuck about him. Yeah, that worked so well.
Well, actually, you should really pat yourself on the back, you stupid fuck. You almost did convince them all to believe your bullshit lies. You just forgot one itty-bitty factoid in the whole scheme of things…Yourself. Of course, how could you've known that once he left you, he would take you with him. At least, the part of you that kept you alive.
And left you behind with this big, black fucking emptiness in your chest.
Logically, as you can't be honest with yourself for a whole 10 fucking minutes, you rationalise that this entire nightmare is just how you wanted things to turn out. That him leaving didn't matter. That you are still Brian fucking Kinney, king of Liberty Avenue. That you are still living. That nothing at all changed one stupid bit. Yet, even just one week later, you need an extra half hour to get out of bed in the mornings. And if you could, some days you wouldn't even bother getting up. Plus, you didn't know sleeping alone again would be this painful.
All those patterns you have made for yourself through the years B.J.T., or as you like to call it Before Justin Time, and lately, messed them over and over again. Terrible nightmares you soothed for him and mended his wounds, while you bled out in his arms. Which you knew you well deserved, because ultimate truth was – you didn't save him. You tried, but like with everything else in your life, you fell short.
It's funny, really…In a I-wanna-hurt-myself-really-bad way, you think.
Just by being yourself, you managed to single-handedly ruin his life. It sure fits that you should feel his pain too. Out of the blue, you realise...
That was exactly why he left you. Why you made him leave you. All the pain and love were just too much to bare for either of you. Cracking at the seams, like parasites, you fed of each other's suffering. A trainwreck waiting to happen, both imploding in the supernova of unimaginable heartache, beautiful in its own specific way. And so ugly in all the others.
And now, despite your best common sense, like a junkie, you crave to design new patterns and follow them by the book, make new non-promises to yourself, and maybe to him too, scout out a thousand new cliffs to jump off together. You want to mend all his and your wounds, heal his broken bones. Make him desperately want you again.
Just to have him in your arms again.
Because, you know now. He is the one guiding you through life. He is every sign pointing you in the right direction along your journey. Afternoon sunshine shinning on all your cloudy days. Even on the days when you know you won't be young and beautiful forever, no matter what Mikey says.
So, for now, you will just hold your breath, you decide. Until its time. And wait to exhale.
