Boris Pavlikovsky angst oneshots (The Goldfinch)

Okay but like what if Theo died from the od?

Boris didn't make it in time. He stared dully at the lifeless body in front of him. That's it. Theo was gone. His Theo. His Potter. Tears fell down his cheeks but he couldn't care less. He was always told not to cry by his father. Was told it made in weak. A coward. But in that moment everything he was ever told vanished from his thoughts.

Boris fell hard on his knees, rough sobs tearing at his vocal cords. He gently held his Potter's hand and desperately begged him to live. He knew the other couldn't hear.

"Please Potter, please come back don't leave me again, you can't leave me again! Please. "

His warm tears hit his Potter's soft skin. There was no longer the warmth it once held. His Potter was cold.

Boris felt as though he should be warming the other's hands, just like his Potter use to do to him in the winter back when they were teens. Boris wanted to believe he was dreaming, or that his Potter was just sleeping. But his brain couldn't seem to think that. Because he was dead. He killed himself.

"I should have gotten here sooner goddammit!" Boris shouted in between broken sobs.

"Fuck! I'm sorry Potter. I'm so so sorry! I wasn't here in time and now you.. look at you.."

Boris pulled his Potter into one last hug. It didn't feel like that though. It felt more as though he was holding the corpse of his best friend.

Eventually Boris let go and called an ambulance. He watched at the took his Potter away and cried softly to himself.

"So this is it." Boris said looking at the sky. He'd never believed in god or Jesus. Virgin Mary maybe. So he pretended he was talking to her.

"Take care of him." He said quietly. And there it ended. He never saw his Potter again. At his grave perhaps, but he'd never see him. He'd never have dreams of him, never thought of his face, never looked at pictures, nothing. All he had was his letters and memories of his voice.

His Potter was gone.