Boycotting Blue

35/Lou

Lou

 

Everything seemed to be in slow motion.

    There was a loud noise and then…. Silence. No Roberto, no Blue, no other voices…. Just nothing. I tried to pry my eyes open, but they took so long I started to think I was dead. And with that feeling came the shallow, quick breaths, the increase in my heart rate. And then I was sobbing uncontrollably, clutching around me. My hands came in contact with something soft and warm. The edges alerted me it was the tip of the sofa, something I was laying on. I frowned, gasping. “Blue—Blue—“ I gasped out, reaching for him. 

   I pulled myself into a sitting position, feeling around me. My eyes unglued slowly, darkness fading into light too slow for my liking. I viewed the scene around me. I was on the sofa, sitting up. Blue was on the ground, blood spilling from his side, a gun laying in his hands, eyes closed. In front of me, Roberto had a bullet hole put straight through his chest. Behind him, holding a gun, was Hector, looking terrified.

   Everything spun before I could fully understand what was going on.

   Sirens.

   Lots of sirens.

   “I—I shot him,” Hector said, trembling. He raised the gun towards me.

    I looked at Roberto’s dead body, eyes wide open, the sign of a smirk still prominent on his lips. A part of me wanted to be happy he was dead—but the other part of me realized I was with a dead man, and I felt sick to my stomach. “Get out of here,” I said, the room steadying slightly. I clutched the grips of the sofa before I could puke. “Go. Before they catch you.”

   He nodded, dropping the gun and taking off.

   “Hector!” I called, looking over him past Roberto’s dead body. “The gun—take it—before they fingerprint,” I panted, giving him a look. My eyes narrowed, and I tried to calm myself.

   He came back for a second, pulled it up, and gave me a grateful smile before disappearing. A part of me knew I would never see him again. I didn’t care. I didn’t want to see him again—or anybody else that had been in contact with me for the past few days, hours, weeks, however long.

   I heard yelling and more gunshots, and then I wanted to be closer to Blue. I climbed off the sofa, everything spinning more than I wanted it to. “Blue?” I questioned, trying to stand on my own two feet and then stumbling forward. I fell onto my knees. Something brushed against my bare feet, and then my socks were wet, coated in blood. I turned my head, seeing that I was touching against dead Roberto.

   A shrill shriek escaped my mouth as I fell into delirious laughter. “Oh, God,” I gasped, pulling away. I needed to move closer to Blue, see if he was still breathing, but then I started getting dizzy and black spots appeared so I pulled myself against the couch. I swallowed down the vomit threatening to rise up in my throat.

    “Lou…. Hold on,” someone panted.

     Tears sprung in my eyes. I couldn’t move. Everything was spinning and dark. “I can’t see,” I whispered, pulling a sock off my foot. Blood touched my fingers, and I wiped it on my shirt. “I—“

     I shut my eyes and tried to breathe. Think, Lou, THINK.

     Roberto was dead. The danger was over, at least I hoped so. I just needed to get to Blue. Blue. My heart sung, and I opened my eyes again, feeling a little bit stronger. There was definite ringing in my ears, a sure sign I was close to passing out.

    I channeled every ounce of strength I had in me and crawled to Blue. The noise on the other side was drowning out. I heard clicks and less bombs, more swearing than anything. I kept going, choosing to ignore the thoughts.

   The thought of Blue’s lips on mine kept me going forward. I pressed onward, reliving each detail of his kisses—the soft ones that made my knees weak. The harder, more urgent kiss that had sent my heart spiraling out of control. The quick peck that was enough to make butterflies appear against my will. And, finally, that one kiss that made me lose every single thought in my head. I couldn’t describe it, but I could feel it.

   Finally, I was touching him. His skin was cool and clammy beneath my hand, but it didn’t matter. He was alive, I was alive. We were breathing—barely, but we were. I took a deep breath and pushed myself further up so that I was leaning against him. I grabbed his hand and held him. “If we live—“

   “When we live.”

    I gave a little smile that fell flat on my lips. I couldn’t muster up anymore energy. I was right where I needed to be. “Anyway. I promise to marry you. Whenever you ask.” I closed my eyes, nothing but the truth spilling from my lips. I moved closer to him, pressing my face into the crook of his neck. A few more minutes, something whispered, but I didn’t want a few more minutes. I wanted to drift off now, where everything wasn’t so energy-consuming.

   “I love you,” I said, everything fading away.

    He didn’t say it back. But he gave my hand a squeeze before his entire body went slack against mine.