Anonymous whispered:
"Alan had heard the noise a few minutes ago, and thought nothing of it, but eventually his curiosity got the best of him. He trod down the hallway, following the music to Eric's bedroom. Though he knew it was impolite, he peeped in through the crack in the door, astonished to find the reaper dancing! Alan couldn't help smiling, and watched in curiosity. He never took the other man to be the dancing sort... but it certainly looked fun. He wasn't sure he could keep up though. (shi-no-toge)"
Entirely unaware that he had an audience, Eric kept it up. His movements were fluid, hips inspired to sway with the music and feet bouncing against the bed in time. Yes, he was the sort to go about dancing on his bed. And while he wasn’t bad at it, it seemed his balance needed a little work — for one wrong step and he was sent (in a fit of loud shouts and cursing) tumbling to the ground with a crash. Sheets tangled around his legs and hair disheveled.
Having pulled the curtains to his bed shut, Alan lay in the dim light, knees hugged to his chest as tears leaked from his eyes. He felt utterly alone. He’d thought that maybe, just maybe Eric could have been the one to deliver him from his darkness, to save him from himself, but now he just felt as though he’d been fed pretty lies. Sure, they’d tasted lovely at the time, but now they burned as bile in his throat. He wiped at his lips, upset by the fact that he’d been given a kiss out of pure pity.
“I am going to die.” He said softly to the empty room. “And when I die it will be alone.”
He called in sick to work the next day, remaining in his bed. He didn’t bother to get up for food or water. He wasn’t hungry anymore.
During the night, Eric was given nothing but familiar nightmare after nightmare. He’d half expected Alan to be there when he started away with a cry. His heart sunk when he saw the empty spot next to him. He ached for the warmth of his body. The softness of his touch.
“Stop torturin’ yerself, ye idjit.” He hissed bitterly and buried his face into his pillow. Sleep would not find him for the rest of the night.
Work was especially dull (aside from quite the scolding and being given quite a bit of overtime). Eric completed plenty of paperwork at a slow pace. His mind wandered, and he’d read the same sentence over and over, but not really register it. And when he began to think of Alan, he’d steal a glance at the small, potted cactus on the corner of his desk.
Coldly, he thought to himself that he really was just a weed.
caffinated-sketches liked this shi-no-toge reblogged this from hanakotobawakodoku and added:
“Definitely scared me.” Alan said, removing his hands from the other man. “I had a feeling you’d fallen, and was very...
hanakotobawakodoku reblogged this from shi-no-toge and added:
Eric shook his head, “Nah. I’m a'righ’, I think.” He’d be sore, but it wouldn’t last too long. Nothing worth mentioning....
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