Hısırdøu× Ca$pər@n•×•Oneshot§

Īm. Ñøť. Đėçəňţ

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He was basically next to a ticking bomb. But he couldn't remember why. Memories are repeated as flashbacks take him to the simplier times, where Douixe was alive anyway. He wished he saw it coming, the odd behaviour. Yet the wizard told everyone except him, even his own mother knew. But it wasn't like they had a choice. In the end he'd find out sooner or later, even if it meant having your lover dieing in your arms. "...I'll come back Jim, I promise." That led him to the last promise he made. And yet for a whole month, Jim was alone. On one night, while the doctor went out on an emergency errand, he decided it was time for a shower. About to pull the curtin as he finished rinsing, electric blue litted the place for about have a second along with a quiet gush of wind. "Oh right, sorry, forgot to knock..."

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The trollhunter walked out from the bathroom, dry ofcourse, nearing the bed to put on the fresh clean pair of clothes he had picked out before entering the bathroom to take a quick bath. Standing infront of them, he stopped to glance at the white wooden door of his bedroom, flipping through his brain to remember if he locked it or not. 

'Cause things happen.

He shrugged it off, totally unsure, but risked it anyway while he picked up his casual day-to-day shirt.

How was he suppose to see it coming, when the door clicked open, in one swift movement and a head popped through. The view infront of them being like a front row seat at a theater. Literally. 

Eyes widening in utter horror, he did the most sensible thing in the moment:

"I'm not decent! Couldn't you have knocked?!" He yelled at the older all while rolling up the shirt and throwing it toward them. It missed since they had swiftly shut the door in time causing the clothing to fall in the process. Jim let out a relieved sigh, not like it helped to make him feel any less exposed. From the other side of the door an apology came from his british boyfriend...

...And the rest was history, well actually it was more embarrassing and awkward from there but eh... =3

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When rocks, pebbles and stones started to fall from the ceiling, when the ground shook like an earthquake and screams could be heard from way down across the long hallway, all the trollhunter could focus on, was the body laying limp in his arms. Fresh blood, cuts and small bruises were on his face. Whereas the Hero of Arcadia seemed to have been rid of any scartch. The salty substance came running down his red face in a flood as he held the older closer in his arms. Rocking back and forth, whispering small pleads and continuously swiping away every strand of hair across the pale skin.

He couldn't move him, for he wasn't quite sure of where the wound or injury was on the body, so as to not make it worse.

"Please... you can't go, you- you can't leave me..." he cried to the body in his arms, the tears steadily moving downward from his red, rosy cheeks. He held on tighter as he never got a response from the other that still had his eyes closed. No movement or sign to signal him that his lover was, somewhat or somehow, by any small miracle, still alive. 

The rocks were starting to fall faster from the ceiling, the noise echoing in his ears, but even that didn't pull away his attention. He crushed his face into the other's chest, sobbing uncontrollably. His strength slipping away each second. Then he heard it: