Everything was so sweet, until you tried to kill me.
+++
"It was like he was possessed."
"What do you mean by that?"
"One moment he was all sweet and holding me, and then the next he was holding a knife to my throat."
"Were you scared?"
"Was I scared? Was I scared? Of course I was scared! Terrified, even! My boyfriend was trying to kill me!"
"Calm down, Mitch. I'm just doing my job."
Mitch scoffed, crossing his arms and blowing his bangs out of his dark eyes. "Just let me go home," he said, suddenly sounding a lot more tired.
The investigator sighed, clicking his pen closed and standing up. "Alright. Fine. But we're meeting first thing tomorrow," he warned, and Mitch rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. See you then, I guess." With that, he picked up his jacket and left the building.
His feet carried him to the one place he was warned not to go: the mental institution. He walked up to the front desk and flattened his palms against the cool marble of the counter. "Hi, Mitch Grassi here to see Scott Hoying?" he said softly, and the receptionist quickly looked up and frowned. "Sir, I don't think you should see him. Weren't you the one he tried to kill?" she asked, and Mitch nodded, but didn't seem to care. "Yeah. So?" The woman sighed, and gave him a slip of paper. "Show that to his guards, and they'll let you in." Mitch smiled tightly. "Thanks."
He went to the room hastily jotted down on the paper and handed it to one of the two burly men standing guard outside the door. He looked down at it, and after a moment, nodded lazily, waving his hand to tell Mitch to go in.
Mitch carefully entered the room, flinching when the smell of dust and neglect reached his nose. He edged in more, and froze when he saw his former best friend and boyfriend curled into a ball in the corner.
The man doesn't even look up at the sound of someone entering. "If you're going to question me as to why I did it, I don't know. I don't remember trying to kill him. Leave me alone," he said quietly without looking up, and Mitch smiled sadly. "Last time I checked, I was just here to see you," he said, and the man's head snapped up at the sound of his voice. "Mitch?" he breathed, and Mitch chuckled. "That's me."
He slowly uncurled from his balled-up position, his long limbs unfurling and stretching out in the small room. "I didn't know visitors were allowed," Scott said, still smiling happily. "They're not," Mitch told a white-lie, "but I'm a little rebel." Scott laughed weakly, but Mitch could see the tiredness and confusion in his icy blue depths.
"I'm sorry, Mitch," he whispered suddenly, and Mitch frowned, carefully coming over to rest his hand on Scott's knee. "What for?" he asked gently. Scott let out a shaky sigh. "Everyone's saying I tried to kill you, so I just wanted to say I was sorry. Not sure if sorry really cuts it, but . . ." He was silent for a few more moments before looking over at Mitch. "Did I? Did I try to kill you?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
Mitch sighed and nodded slightly. "Yeah. You did. Which is why I'm not allowed to visit you," he said tiredly, and Scott's eyes immediately widened. "Sh*t! Go, now!" he cried, but Mitch just frowned. "Not you too," he groaned, and Scott slowly stopped trying to get him to leave. "I'm sorry. It's just . . . I don't want to hurt you again. Or worse, try to kill you and actually succeed."
"See, that's the thing. I don't think it was you who did it."
Scott stared at his boyfriend with confusion. "What?"
Mitch slowly looked at him, his eyes dark and sad. "I think that you were possessed, as unlikely as it sounds. I mean, you don't remember doing it, your eyes had turned red-ish, and your voice was deeper than usual," he explained tiredly. Scott slowly nodded. "Yeah. I guess that makes sense," he said, and Mitch smiled with relief. "I knew you'd agree," he said. Scott smiled slightly. "I am your best friend for a reason."
"And boyfriend," Mitch reminded him quietly, smiling shyly. Scott smiled as well, hesitating a moment before opening his mouth to ask a question. However, he's interrupted by a guard. "Alright, time's up!" a gruff voice called in, and Mitch huffed, standing up. "Didn't know there was a f*cking time limit," he muttered, angrily stomping to the door.
He turned around at the last minute, staring at Scott for a moment before rushing forward and capturing his lips in a quick kiss. "I love you," he breathed out, before turning and vanishing out around the corner.
Scott stared sadly at the place he last saw his boyfriend, fingers ghosting over where Mitch's lips touched his. He sighed, curling into a ball again.
"I love you too."
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I really don't know
If you guys have a request, feel free to tell me and I'll write a one-shot based on it :)
~Ansley
