Just a story I wrote because I was bored and it's December and it's cold. Thought I might as well put it up, considering my last entry was like, August. . '
I dunno.
Disclaimer:- Don't own. Don't claim to.
Just let him be
Yuuri sat in silence, slowly chain-smoking through a packet of cigarettes. In the bedroom, he could hear the angry thudding of suitcases being dragged around, clothes, shoes and books being flung around, drawers being opened, then slammed shut again.
He took another shaky drag and stubbed the cigarette out, immediately lighting another.
He heard the rhythmic clacking as CDs were sorted through. He blew out a long, thin column of smoke, narrowing his eyes and flicking his bangs out of his face.
How could this be happening? How could he keep doing this to him? Did he enjoy breaking his heart? Yuuri knew he couldn't put him on a pedestal, that he was wrong for idolising him. But he couldn't help it. He loved him so badly it hurt.
There was a bang as what Yuuri could only assume was the bedroom door hitting the wall, then the sound of the bathroom light coming on. He could hear him rooting through the medicine cabinet, pulling out aspirin, razors, shaving cream. Was he taking it all now? Everything? Granted, most of the stuff in the apartment was Yuuri's anyway, and he wouldn't really be taking that much, but it still seemed as though he was emptying the place- gutting it. Or perhaps it was Yuuri himself who was being gutted.
It was hard to tell.
Flicking ash into his coffee cup, Yuuri stared out of the window. He could go in there. He could shout and scream and cry for him to stay. Not that it would get him very far. Hadn't he tried that last time? Besides, he had too much dignity to go in there and bawl his eyes out. Right now, he would rather just sit and fumigate his sorrows. And once he'd finished doing that, he could approach the next method of drowning his sorrows with vodka- providing the cruel hearted swine didn't take that as well.
Yuuri felt a pang of regret. How could he say that? Shivering slightly, he took a deep breath and held it, trying to quell the rising tears. There was a thud behind him, and he heard the bedroom door slam shut. He turned slightly to see him, stony faced, standing near the television. He had his big holdall over his powerful shoulder, and was dragging a suitcase in each hand. Yuuri gazed into his eyes for a moment, then turned back and took another drag of his cigarette.
"Is that it then?" He said, addressing the window. He was met with silence. His only reply was the sound of the front door to the flat closing and his footsteps receding down the hallway. Yuuri stood up and grabbed the closest thing he could lay his hands on; a big glass bowl that they put keys in. Letting out a primal scream, he hurled it across the room. It shattered on the wall, a million tiny shards falling to the floor, like a sky of bright twinkling stars. Suddenly exhausted for no reason, he sat back down and stubbed his cigarette out.
He didn't light another.
He sat like that for a long time, tears running down his cheeks, just staring out of the window as the sky darkened and it began to snow. Eventually though, he stopped crying, and contemplated what to do next. Slowly, he rose and wandered out to the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror for a while, then very calmly sat down next to the toilet and threw up until all that was left was stringy yellow bile and the acidic taste of hatred on his lips. Getting up slowly, he went over to the sink and opened the cabinet, taking out his tooth brush and the toothpaste. He scrubbed his teeth twice, then rinsed his mouth out with water.
The taste lingered.
Replacing his toothbrush, Yuuri frowned and looked on the top shelf where the other had kept all his things. It had been completely cleared- not even an old, emptied aspirin packet remained. Yuuri glowered at the shelf. He could just imagine him sweeping everything straight into his bag, not even bothering if things leaked or spilled or smashed.
Disgusted, Yuuri slammed the cabinet door shut and jumped as something hit the floor. Looking down, his eyes touched on a black toothbrush. Immediately, his eyes well up again. He picked it up. He could just have thrown it in the bin andhad done with it. It was, after all, only a bit of plastic. But it was the first thing that he had ever kept here, and it seemed ironic that it was the last thing to leave.
Just a bit of plastic.
Yuuri's phone started to vibrate in his pocket. Reaching in, he dug it out and pressed the 'read message' button. The screen went blank, then the straight little letters scrolled across the screen
Silly boy.
Hav wine & chocolates ready.
Will b there in 5 minutes.Don't cry.
Don't break stuff.
& 4 gods sake don't call him.
Just let him b.
Regan xxx
Yuuri smiled sadly as he read the message. Even though Regan always put three little kisses at the bottom of texts, he felt especially touched by it, for no reason other than that he was feeling horrible and shitty. It occurred to him that Regan was going to be there very shortly, and that there were fragments of smashed glass all over the floor and fag ends floating in his coffee, which, by now, would be completely stone cold.
Carefully replacing the toothbrush on the side of the sink, he thought better of it and popped it on the top shelf of the cabinet, all alone in the newly vacated space. At least he knew it was there. And it meant that he would have an excuse to come back. Okay, so it wasn't like he needed that specific toothbrush, but it could happen…
Just let him b.
Regan was right. They just needed… Space. They needed to be away from each other for a while. Yuuri smiled and emptied his coffee down the sink.
And anyway, it would give him time to replace the bowl.
Fin.
And on that note... R&R s' il vous plait.