I decided to write something sad for today. Why? Because I've made too much crack already and I like making you guys sad :3
!WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF SUICIDE. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THIS TOPIC, PLEASE JUST READ ANOTHER CHAPTER OR WAIT UNTIL TOMORROW!
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Souda stared down at the floor, brushing away tears for what felt like the thousandth time that day. He put the picture of him and Gundham that was hidden in the drawer of his nightstand. All he had now were photos and memories. Gundham had been executed mere days ago, and refused to leave his mind. Now the memories of that warm, welcoming smile brought tears to the mechanic's eyes. The time they had spent together, before breakfast, at the beach, in the diner... in Souda's bed.
More memories. The boy shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. He could still feel the traces of Gundham's cold, nimble fingers against his skin. The gentle kisses along his cheek, his neck, his collarbone. The warm, comforting post-sex cuddles. He loved it all. He would never have any of that again.
"Why did he have to be so... fucking perfect?" Souda cried quietly to nobody in particular. The door to his cottage was locked, after all. It was just him and the knife he had taken from the kitchen, which sat next to him on the bed.
All Souda wanted was to see Gundham again. He had begged and prayed and cried, but nothing ever worked. This was his final option. Of course, it was rash, insane, ridiculous, but he was so used to people pushing him around and judging him, that his vision of right and wrong was severely blurred, and he had repressed most of his morals for fear of being judged. He shakily took the sharp knife off of his bed, holding it near his wrist.
"Heh..." Souda forced out a small laugh through the tears pouring out of his eyes like a waterfall. "Haven't done this since Middle School."
Memories. So many memories swarming his mind. None of them were good or happy. All of his good memories on this island were with Gundham, and had been tainted due to his death.
The mechanic glanced up at the ceiling, almost as if he had expected something to be there. He smiled again, a broken, sad smile.
"Anything it takes to see you again."
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If you cried, then my mission has been accomplished.
I'M SORRY OKAY
