Hey guys! Here's the first chapter~ I wrote it in two days hahaha I've been really excited about this story so I hope that you give it a chance! It may seem a little confusing at first, but things are going to start making sense, soon~
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Chapter One: Breathe.
Black hair. Slanted, cat eyes. A sly grin. A seductive leer. Yuuri. Yuuri. Yuuri. His walk screamed seduction and power. Wolfram was memorized by the sight. He couldn't look away. It hurt to look away.
Hurt.
That word was familiar.
Yuuri took only a few moments to assess the situation. The sin. There was nothing else other than this Yuuri. Everything else faded away into blackness. This Yuuri motioned with a single finger for Wolfram to step closer. Wolfram wanted nothing more. One step. Then another. Finally. Finally, he's there. Close to him. Hysteria rang in his ears. Why was this so addictive? Like a new world.
A drug.
This Yuuri was a drug.
But was it bad that Wolfram wanted more? More, more, more. Never ending. Everlasting. This Yuuri could give it to him. He could make the hurt go away.
No more hurt.
Ever.
And fuck, it felt good. So good. No more hurt. No more worry.
Just Yuuri.
"Wolfram."
A single word. His name. This Yuuri allowed the syllables to escape his acid tongue effortlessly. As if he were born to say it. Wolfram's name.
Just his. No one else's.
This Yuuri spread his lips and spoke in a drawling voice, words struggling to escape the pleasure grounds of his mouth. His words swam in Wolfram's head. Drowned in it. Wolfram allowed them to. If only because it didn't hurt.
No hurt.
And it was heaven. Euphoria. Better than sex. To think, the key to ending his pain was listening to this Yuuri.
"Wolfram…do it…"
What was that? Oh right. This Yuuri wanted him to do something. But could he do it? What was it that he had to do?
Cold metal on flesh. Ruby drops dripping.
Was that what he wanted?
"Yes…" this Yuuri hissed. "Good…now do it…"
But wouldn't that make the hurt come back? What about the other Yuuri? The one with the big black eyes and short black hair. The opposite of this Yuuri. What about his part time job? What about his apartment? What would happen to all of it?
"Do it…and we'll be together, forever."
Forever? That was a long time. A damn long time. What would Wolfram do without the other Yuuri? His best friend. His unrequited love.
"Wolfram."
That voice again. The one that made the hurt go away.
Wolfram wanted it. He wanted no more hurt. It was heart stopping. Head pounding. Hard to deal with. He wanted nothing to do with it.
He wanted to believe in this Yuuri. The one with the cat eyes and long black hair.
It was as if the sun were raining down on him. This was it. This was what he needed.
"Do it…"
He was desperate. Willing. And it hurt.
Everything did.
Scenarios ran through his head. Galloping on his logic and reasoning. He saw flashes of his life. Of his future. Everything. They resounded off of each other in a wonderful ballad. Desperation fueled his movements.
"Do it…"
He had no other choice.
Rushing. Rushing. Rushing. Hurry! Fast! Before it's too late!
No choice
No options.
He did it.
Wolfram was floating. Drifting by. He could feel warmth pulsing through his fingers and the feeling was spectacular. Comforting. He was holding something. Oh right…the knife. But it felt strange. The weight of it. But there was something else that was off.
It didn't hurt.
No more hurt.
Just like the other Yuuri had promised.
He smiled serenely and allowed his body to fall backwards to the cool wooden floor of his apartment. It felt good. The coldness on his back. The warm in his hands. Where was the other Yuuri? Gone?
Alone.
Wolfram didn't care, though. It didn't hurt, so he didn't care. There was nothing to care about.
He heard a voice. Something familiar. He turned his head towards the sound but he couldn't see past all of the not-hurt. It was a cloud obscuring his vision. A misty haze that covered everything in dewy drops of rightness.
"W….am….."
That voice again…Who was there?
"Wol…..ram."
There it was again. The voice.
Yuuri? Was that him?
"Wolfram."
It is Yuuri…
The real Yuuri.
"Wolfram! What have you done to yourself! I knew that I shouldn't have left! Oh God...I'm so sorry…Wolf!"
And suddenly, all of the not-hurt disappeared. There was nothing other than the cool floor and the heavy beating of his heart. The feeling of blood surrounding him. The weighty handle of the knife. What was going on? Wolfram's eyes darted around the room. The sofa, the television. Everything was back to normal. There wasn't another Yuuri. Everything was normal.
And it fucking hurt.
Wolfram's breaths came out in sharp puffs of air. Painful intakes of oxygen.
He was back to square one.
Wolfram's vision was still blurry, but he assumed that it was due to blood loss. Everything seemed…slow. Slow motion. Not moving. He felt the presence of someone standing next to him and was glad. No more loneliness. No more hurt.
"Y-Yuuri…?" He whispered in a voice that was unfamiliar to his ears.
Yuuri's big black eyes were welling up with tears. "Wolf…I'm so sorry…We're going to get you help. I'm going to make you better again." His voice lowered to a mere murmur as he pulled out his cell phone. No doubt, he was dialing the number for Wolfram's psychiatrist, Gisela.
Wolfram wasn't aware of much after that point. He lifted a hand. Reaching for Yuuri. For his sun. He recalled not being able to reach him. Quivering fingers fell back onto his chest. Useless. He couldn't breathe. It hurt too much to breathe.
But this hurt was different.
It wasn't the usual hurt that greeted his every move and thought. This hurt was a sharp, clear hurt. Something that he could identify. Something that he could describe. This hurt was painful and made him dizzy. This hurt had substance.
He liked this kind of hurt.
His lips quirked up in a smile and he let himself go. There was no more Yuuri. No more anything.
Just Wolfram and his hurt.
He heard a door opening. Slamming. Who was there? Wolfram didn't care. He heard yelling. He heard his name being shouted, but he didn't know who was shouting it.
He guessed that it meant goodbye. This was it. This was his final breath. His final moment of hurt. He bid his goodbyes to Yuuri. Both of them. His breaths were shuddering, quivering under the strength that it took to let them escape Wolfram's worn lungs. Lungs that were tired of tobacco and the stress of living. Lungs that shared Wolfram's hurt.
Wolfram felt cold. Entirely too cold. But his hands were still warm with blood. Blood. Too much flowing out of a wound that could have been prevented. A wound that had been self caused. Wolfram regretted nothing. If it meant that he could have a few minutes…moments of not hurt, than it was well worth it. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. He couldn't distinguish between the foggy old hurt and the hazy new hurt.
Either way, it was all hurt.
Wolfram took another breath.
The shouting wouldn't stop. It was annoying. Wolfram wanted it to stop. Wanted everything to stop. And with one, final, quivering breath.
It did.
Yuuri was frantic. Scared. Terrified. Wolfram's body was growing cold and limp in his arms, and there was no one else to blame other than him. Gisela had warned him several times to not leave Wolfram alone under any circumstances. If something came up and Yuuri were forced to leave his best friend, he was under strict orders to call her, and she would watch the blond.
Yuuri had gone to the grocery store. For a few minutes. An amount of time that shouldn't have given Wolfram the opportunity to do something like this. He was going to make Wolfram's favorite for dinner. A celebration of his good behavior. Gisela had made a break through with him only two days ago. Wolfram had been so good since. So good. But it hadn't been enough.
Yuuri had forgotten the very reason why Wolfram couldn't be left alone in the first place.
Gisela would be on the way, soon. As would the ambulance. Yuuri needed them to hurry. He needed them to get there soon. To save Wolfram.
"Breathe Wolfram…keep breathing…please…" Yuuri begged, his voice thick with stress and fear. He clutched the limp form closer to him, as if he could transfer some of his life force into Wolfram.
Separation Anxiety Disorder. At least, that's what they thought it was at first. Wolfram couldn't be left alone. It would drive him into catatonic states that would take hours for him to work through. Days at the worst. Yuuri had been with him during the worst of it. They had been friends ever since he could remember. Wolfram had lived down the street with his mother and two brothers. He didn't talk about his father much, but Yuuri had always suspected that he had been abused at some point and that Celi had fled her home to protect her son. The signs had all been there. Yuuri and Wolfram hit it off immediately; they constantly had sleepovers and camping trips, and they had even gone to the same schools. Nothing was abnormal about it. Wolfram was a little clingy, but nothing that made Yuuri feel that something was wrong.
Wolfram's clinginess grew worse with the years. Now, as a college student, Wolfram attended therapy and took medication in an attempt to stifle his fear of being left alone.
Yuuri blamed the world for Wolfram's disorder. In Yuuri's mind, no one was free of blame. Himself included. He blamed Wolfram's father for never being there. He blamed Wolfram's mother for never staying home to take care of her children. He blamed Wolfram's brothers for not noticing when Wolfram's simple fear of sleeping alone had developed into something much more severe. And he blamed himself for not doing anything sooner to help his best friend.
When Wolfram met Gisela, Yuuri had felt that all of their worries would simply disappear. Wolfram would be safe and secure. He had a professional to listen to his worries and figure out how to help him. Yuuri had felt a tremendous weight leave his shoulders. He went to classes happily and then home to his shared apartment with Wolfram just as equally happy. Wolfram had been happy, too. For a short time.
But then, Wolfram began to complain of something that he had dubbed 'hurt'. Yuuri had asked him at the time if he had injured himself, but Wolfram had calmly replied that it wasn't that kind of hurt. Wolfram's hurt was different. Something that he couldn't explain. Yuuri had told Gisela. Gisela has prescribed a new medication and the matter had been dropped.
Then, the hallucinations had started. Wolfram began to talk of seeing another Yuuri. A Yuuri that was very different from the usual Yuuri. This Yuuri told Wolfram to do things. Horrible things.
Wolfram listened.
Gisela had been reluctant to diagnose it at first. She had written it off as a simple reaction to his new medication. She had given him more medicine and it had been dropped.
Just like last time.
But unlike last time, Wolfram didn't stop talking about the other Yuuri and the hurt. His conversations seemed to revolve around them. Gisela had warned Yuuri to not leave Wolfram alone until she could figure out what was really the problem. What was the crux of the issue.
Yuuri had forgotten.
He had forgotten his friend. His Wolfram.
And now look at what had happened.
Yuuri heard the door slam open and was instantly filled with relief. Gisela had finally arrived. He could hear sirens in the background that indicated that the ambulance had also arrived. The psychiatrist took one look at Wolfram and gasped. Blood covered the floor in great pools and Wolfram's weapon of choice lay forgotten. The blond was gasping for air as if breathing were a chore. Two men rushed into the room carrying a stretcher. They didn't need to waste time knocking for Gisela had left the front door wide open.
Yuuri barely recalled anything after that. He had felt Wolfram being yanked from his arms and the pale body being strapped down before being rushed to the waiting vehicle. Gisela and Yuuri had been hurried into the back, and they were off.
It had only been twenty minutes since Yuuri had first decided to leave.
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