Scömíche One Shots

Gasoline

DEDICATED TO Mitchapple CAUSE THIS IS OUR SONG AND YAY

ALSO DEDICATED TO Scomiche-is-life CAUSE SHE'S FRIGGIN AMAZING

Okay, now normal Rosey. So, I hope y'all enjoy!

WARNING: Triggering.

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A loud sob passed my lips as I dragged the razor across my arm. His last words rang through my head, as the have been for the past two years.

"I love you, and I always will. Never forget that."

Tears fell freely down my face. He didn't deserve that, no one deserves that. But he had so many chances, all taken away.

I heard my phone begin ringing in the next room. It had to be Kirstie. I slowly stood, stabling myself on the sink. I made my way to the kitchen, picking up the phone and answering, "Hello."

"Mitch! Oh my God, you're alive. I'm at the door, what even happened? You sound like you've been crying." I sighed. Shaking my head and making my way to the door.

"I'll explain. Just get in here." I hung up, hearing the click of the door opening.

"Mitch? Mi- oh my God." Her eyes went wide at the sight of me.

I laughed dryly, "I know I look awful, no need to tell me." She placed a hand over her mouth.

"W-what happened t-to your arm?" I moved closer to her.

"Two years happened. I couldn't take it." Kirstie wrapped her arms around me. I hissed in pain as my arms hit my sides.

"I'm sorry. Why didn't you-"

"Ask for help? I didn't want it. Look, can you just go so I can... so I can die. Please?" I looked at her with pleading eyes.

"No. You can't... you can't die." I grabbed her hand and lead her to the door.

"I'm sorry, okay? Just... goodbye." I slammed the door.

"Mitch Grassi, 22 year old member of Pentatonix has been found dead. It is said he fell into a deep state of depression after his boyfriend, Scott Hoying, past away two years ago. One of Grassi's bandmates, Kirstin Maldonado, said she had made a visit to Grassi's apartment minutes before he died. More to come of this story."