Linstead oneshots

music to my ears

jays pov:

i was trudging slowly into the comforting confines of our now shared apartment, slowly pulling off each shoe and placing it at its designated space, against the wall, next to the door. i then slowly made my way to our room, tip toeing quietly so  i wouldn't wake erin, in the off chance she was asleep by now. it was then when it hit me, the overwhelming beauty of a sound so unusual yet tranquilising that i felt myself lulled into a stat e of complete and utter calm. the song was beautiful, almost as beautiful as her. each note held to perfection, each word voiced bravely as if well practised. she was singing, and it was incredible. 

it was then, as i slowly edged closer, entranced by the sheer beauty of the astounding sight and her tragic yet heartfelt song, that she turned around, facing me with an expression that silently voiced purplexion, surprise and utter terror. "jay i-", she attempted hurriedly to explain herself, as if she had done something wrong, as if i would yell at her, or... worse, hurt her, though i pray she knows i could never, for it would hurt me more than her, not in body, but in heart. "it was beautiful, your beautiful", i reassured, taking her breath away once more, this time in a positive manor. She wasn't only beautiful, she was perfect and yet, so much more than perfection. She was the light of my world, the love in my heart and the hope to my never ending suffering and despair.

Unable to stop myself, I rushed forewords, bring into my arms with care as I gently touched my lips to hers. She deserved everything and more, and, though I could only give her little, I found myself constantly striving to please her, worshiping her silently everywhere I went, for she was more than beauty, more than perfection. She was mine. My beloved. My erin, and nothing in the world, not even the distance we were soon to face, and the years apart we should eventually come to battle, could ever change that.

The love I felt for her in that very moment, showed me just how much I needed her, just how much I loved her, and just how much I needed to protect her. Hence why I made a plan, a plan to leave all this behind, in the hopes that she may be happier with me gone, since I could now only offer her pain, my pain. My trauma, something I longed desperately to overcome. And yet, it was still there, still part of me, and as much as it hurt me, I had come to depend on that.

she was perfect, beautiful, intelligent and breath-taking, which is why i could hurt her no longer, force her to share my burdens, so i made my plan. i packed my bags. and i walked away, something i would soon come to regret, and never forgive myself of for the rest of my life.