Skephalo angst one-shot

Last recording (Angst)

ᴛᴡ// ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴀɴɢsᴛ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ʙʀᴜɪsᴇs, ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀᴛɪᴄ ғʟᴀsʜʙᴀᴄᴋs (sᴏʀᴛᴀ) ᴀɴᴅ sᴄʀᴇᴀᴍɪɴɢ.

// ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪғ ɪ ᴍɪssᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏ ᴛᴡs!

((//ᴀʀᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: aeon_mint ᴏɴ ᴛᴡɪᴛᴛᴇʀ

ᴀᴜ! sᴋᴇᴘᴘʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴀᴅ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ ᴍᴄʏᴛs, ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ ʙᴇsᴛ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs ᴡʜᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴍɪɴᴇᴄʀᴀғᴛ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ, ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ.

// ʜɪɢʜʟʏ ᴇᴅɪᴛᴇᴅ ᴅᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴠᴇʀʏ sʜɪᴛᴇ ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴀʀ

_

''ᴀᴡᴡᴡ, ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏᴏ, ᴢᴀᴋ!''

Blue lights flickered around the room.

And aura of sadness followed the diamond man as he sat idly, listening to the same old clip of his lover.

Two years had passed now, since- well.... He had passed.

And after all this time, Zak never let go.

A small, pained sigh escaped Zak's tired lips. Using his cold, bare feet, he casually pushed off of the smooth metal  rails of his fine black desk, launching him across the empty room.

Or, it merely felt empty.

Ever since Bad's hug-like, and very warm words no longer echoed through the taller man's lonely house, every corner had felt depressing and broken.

The bare, white walls lacked their usual dizzy brightness. The multiple photo arrangements hung on one of these now hideous walls had been ripped and torn to small bits of paper. The gorgeous pictures the two men took together no longer holding the same happy feeling.

It was all too much. Too much pain for one man to take.

Skeppy barely managed to pick himself up from his night-black gaming chair. dragging his feet in a depressing slump, he carried himself over to the mass pile of torn pictures from previous moments.

tears slipped from his now dull and lifeless eyes.

Darryl was his light. He was everything to Zak, what was he supposed to do now?

Zak gripped his hair roughly, tugging it- yanking the strands till his head became sore- tears pouring down his tan face. The tears caused his eye bags to sting, as if a wasp had come along and stabbed him right then and there.

He fell to his already bruised knees- a quiet thump ringing afterwards.

Skeppy let out a single yelp of pain, then continued sobbing like crazy.

That was... Until something upon the stack of memories caught his eye.

A singular non-torn photo.

In the said picture, Bad was covered head to toe in pure white, soft flour, looking like he was having the best day of his life.

The last day, of his life.

_

''𝘡𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘬! 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥!'' 𝘉𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨.