The Lost (boyxboy) (Kellic)

Chapter 1

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Vic hadn't eaten in days. He hadn't slept much either. And the few hours of sleep he did get would be disturbed by the nightmares scratching at the walls of his mind. Each night that passed, he would wake up, screaming, crying, suffocating.

His head had become his own personal hell. And his heaven had been stolen.

Taken. Gone. Snatched right from his grip.

And so had his sanity.

He didn't understand how one boy affected him so much. But he knew damn well that he loved that boy with every fiber in his being. But the thing is, is that that's what love does to people. It lures them in with the aspect of being beautiful, a safe haven for those who need it.

Blinding.

Until it turns the other cheek.

The side people don't see because they're too blinded by their love. The side people ignore and brush off because the topic or situation never seems to come up.

The ugly side. The cons of being in love. The jealousy, the anger, the rage, the sorrow that fucking comes with it when they leave. The mind numbing sadness that consumes one whole, taking it's entirety and crumbling it into pieces that get smashed up and burned to ashes.

And, yes, people would take bullets for their loved ones. And so would Vic for Kellin.

But would he kill for him?

And that was the ultimate question that had Vic questioning himself. Questioning whether anything would be the same or not. Questioning if he would ever get him back.

Questioning his sanity.

And it was demonstrated every night he woke up gripping the sheets and screaming out for Kellin. Calling his name longingly as choked sobs slipped between his trembling lips and into the air that fucking suffocated him.

And it would continue to do so until Kellin was back at his side.

But Kellin wouldn't be back soon. He hadn't been back for an entire week now and the shitty police had stopped searching, giving up entirely as if they had better things to do.

But that didn't stop Vic from screaming out and cursing the inky black skies that taunted him and laughed at him. Because the darkness that forever seemed to engulf him, never letting him escape, had become his home. The darkness that he succumbed to every night he closed his eyes, every time he blinked.

The darkness that was his mind.

And that drove him absolutely mad.

The constant flashing of the house ruined as he made his way inside that night, the blood stain that never seemed to be able to come off, the marks on the floor from where the furniture had been thrown. These were the little things that made Vic tick, and the things that flashed behind his eyelids every time he blinked and every time he cried.

Jaime couldn't help but hear him every night, too. He could hear Vic, wailing, mumbling profanities that soon turned to full fledged screams, crying out for Kellin, sobbing. And he could only hope for Vic to wake up because Jaime was just a room over, receiving the same amount of sleep Vic did. The walls were so paper fucking thin and Jaime couldn't fucking stand hearing the guy he once loved lose his mind.

And perhaps, maybe he still loved him, maybe he couldn't stand the thought of someone he loved mourning the loss of someone they loved, maybe he couldn't stand not having Vic anymore. Which may have been something to deal with the fact that he decided to stay and comfort Vic. Because he loves him.