Death Smiles At The End Of The Line [Keveridge]

Chapter 6

[Laurence's POV]

Being punched in the face isn't exactly the way I would like to be awoken after dozing off for a while. I almost fell off the bed when something sharply hit me, causing a flood of pain to spread over my face. It felt as if it was burning, as if the pain was fire. I didn't mean to screech as loud as I did (which was quite loud) since I was aware that Kier was still asleep besides me. Well, was.

"Jesus Christ!"

"What?" Kier gasped, jolting awake and staring at me, he eyes wide with fear. "Oh my god what happened?!" He almost shouted in panic once he'd realised that I was in immense pain.

"You hit me!" I replied, still shocked from the impact.

This wasn't the first time this has happened, well, I haven't been hit in the face before by Kier. A few years ago, back when we first moved into the flat, Kier used to experience terrible nightmares. Often, he would wake up in tears, and sometimes that followed him lashing out in his sleep due to his dream.

"I did what?!" Kier squeaked, his eyes widening as he assessed my face in the limited light from the sunset outside the window. "Oh my god, your nose!"

"Wha-" I quickly dabbed my nose, my fingers instantly covered in the blood dripping from it. "Oh shit." Within a few seconds, I was out of the bedroom and in the kitchen where a first aid kit was kept.

[Kier's POV]

Oh my god- did that really happen? I hurt Laurence. I hurt him. He's bleeding because of me. It's all my fault. For god's sake.

I swore under my breath as I broke down, the hot tears pouring down my face and onto the sheets I was still wrapped in.

Here's another reason to hate myself. Another reason added to the list of many.

I suddenly rose to my feet, dropping the quilt and rushing towards the bathroom. I didn't care about earlier anymore, how I'd been strong for Laurence. I wouldn't be surprised if he hates me now, just because I had some stupid nightmare that caused me to lash out- I don't even know what I dreamt about, and to be fair, I didn't care now. I didn't care about anything but punishing myself.

I dropped onto the tiled floor, where the razors from earlier's antics still lay, and grabbed the nearest, shiniest blade. It shimmered in the light as I briefly glanced at it, not wanting to see my reflection at all.

I held the blade to my wrist, aligned with a scar that had almost completely healed. It was a waste of time even trying to stay strong.

I'm a waste of time.

Without hesitation I pressed down, hissing at the pain that sparked. I shut my eyes tightly, so tight that there was nothing. Hatred coursed through my veins, oozing out from the puncture in my skin, mixed in with the crimson blood that I was so used to spilling. Line after line, drop after drop of blood splashing onto the floor, appearing more viscous than ever before. I'm not proud for this, but I'm never proud of anything. All the thoughts of self hatred suddenly flew through my mind, reminding me of what a failure I am. Why did I never end myself earlier? If only death could whisk me away now. If only I could press a little deeper and end it all...

"Kier?!" his voice frightened me as it shattered through the heavy silence that had surrounded me. Why does Laurence always have to stop me? Why can't he let me end it?!

"Fuck off." I growled, gripping the bloodied blade in my hand, my jaw clenched as I slowly opened my eyes to stare at my friend.

"No, I-"

"Laurence, piss off!" I shouted, almost certain that my eyes had turned red with rage. Laurence still stood in the doorway, looking rather shocked. "For fucks sake, Laurence!"

The raven haired man looked as if I had broken a piece of him, his saddened eyes lowered, a constellation of tears slowly beginning to form upon his lashes.

I never treated my best friend like this. I was never this harsh. I was always terrified that he would stop caring for me. So why am I talking to him like this, now?

I regretted my choice of words as I thought of how much he's looked out for me, especially over the past few days. He probably now thinks that I don't care for him...

I glared down at the blood covering my arm. Why do I always end up like this?

"Laurence..." my croaky voice whispered. "Help me."

My friend nodded and proceeded to clean my arm with tissue paper. I watched as the blood soaked into the paper, spreading over it's white surface. Laurence carefully dabbed the fresh cuts, making sure that didn't hurt me. But nothing could physically hurt me. I was completely numb.

When skin began to appear through the blood as it was wiped away, the slices on my arm became visible. There were a fair few, way more than I would usually make in a single session. Deep down within my stomach, a heavy feeling of guilt brew. I keep putting Laurence through this- he's always the one to clean up my blood, always the one to look after me. I've been quite selfish.

The boy's thumb gently brushed over a particularly deep cut as the final patch of blood was mopped up. The feel of his warm skin was calming, although it was only a small touch.

We remained in silence as Laurence collected the various razors that were still spread across the floor, the only sound being the small pieces of metal clinking together as they were gathered, and quiet whimpering sounds coming from me.

"Are these the only set of blades you have?" Laurence asked, looking up at me for the first time since I swore at him. I nodded in response. "Promise?" I nodded again. "Ok," he started, standing up from his place besides me. "I'm getting rid of these." Swiftly, he left the room, leaving me in silence again. It wasn't long before I decided to relocate to the bedroom, to lie in bed like I had for the rest of the day and cry myself to sleep while Laurence did something useful.

The messy sheets were soft below me as they cushioned my fall, immediately immersing me in warm fabric. Tears began to fall yet again.

"Kier?" the comforting, deep voice rang through the apartment.

"In here."

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"No. I want you besides me."

I felt the man's arms wrap around me once he had collapsed next to me.

"I'm sorry, Laurence." I whisper, placing my hands over his.

"It's ok." he replied, the heat from his breath spreading over my neck, goosebumps rising thanks to the lack of space between us. "I don't want you to be hurt again."

And in that moment, I knew Laurence cared for me. I knew he would do anything to keep me safe. I felt so right in his embrace, as if nothing could destroy me, not even myself.

"Laurence, I love you." I suddenly blurted, my voice ever so quiet, wanting him to hear me, but at the same time scared to be heard.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

My heart drooped with that, but at least I have officially confirmed it to myself.

I was in love with Laurence Beveridge.

****

This is a sad chapter... sorry. And sorry for any random words or mistakes, my iPod is being a poo x3

And I'm ever so sorry about the lack of activity lately, I've been so busy with my band and with school work >.< I have a few ideas for where this could go, so be prepared for more updates c:

Thanks for reading! <3 ily