Take a Chill Pill - Assorted Be More Chill Stuff

Meant to Be Yours

Okay so this one is sad, sorry. I wouldn't call it angst, but it's a bit tragic. Also, I only know lockdown procedures where I'm from. If they're different in New Jersey, just deal with it. Soulmate AU with violence warning and death at the end.

    They'd actually been warned, too.

    Michael sat on the floor of his English classroom. Jeremy was pressed up against him, dozing against his shoulder. They were supposed to be in lunch by now, but no. They were locked in English class until they could catch the supposed maniac whom Michael still didn't believe was actually around. Michael sighed and wrapped his arm around Jeremy. They probably shouldn't have come.

    "Hang on, dude," Jeremy said, pulling away from Michael's embrace as his phone buzzed for the umpteenth time that night. He checked his phone, clicking through a slew of texts. "Did you know there's a threat to the school tomorrow?"

    "What?" Michael adjusted his glasses and pulled out his phone. He too had a string of messages from Rich, Jake, Jenna, Chloe, Brooke, Christine, everyone. Hey, have you heard? Are you going to school tomorrow? "Eh, it's no biggie. Probably just someone trying to get school canceled so they don't have to take a test." He threw his phone to the side. Jeremy bit his lip. Michael smirked. He cupped his boyfriend's chin in his hand and pulled it towards him. Jeremy blushed, holding his gaze.

    "But what if it's not?" Jeremy pulled away, ignoring the beard of flowers that blossomed where Michael had touched him. Michael smiled and looked down at his hand, which was also growing a miniature garden. Oh, how he loved the delicate orange chrysanthemums that proved they were soulmates. He remembered the first time they'd shown up, sprouting on their lips after the friends shared their first kiss.

    "Then we go anyway and prove to the shooter that we aren't scared. Besides, if we all know, the police must. Nothing will happen." Jeremy's brow was still furrowed. Michael sighed and smiled, raising his eyebrows. "Fine. Do you want help getting your mind off it?" Jeremy turned red again and stammered a bit, but allowed Michael to pull him closer.

    Jeremy shifted next to him, letting out a muffled squeak.

    "What's up?" Michael barely bothered to keep his voice down. They were supposed to be silent as they sat against the wall in the dark, but no one was actually doing that, so he wasn't about to bother.

    "I'll never get used to this. It's hard to sit when there are petals in my ass," Jeremy muttered. Michael fought back a shout of laughter.

    "You think you've got it bad?" Michael made a vague gesture to his crotch. Jeremy joined his snickering. Yeah, the flowers usually withered and died after a few hours, but they had a longer lifespan in more... intimate areas. Their laughter was cut off by a loud thumping noise.

    Someone was pounding on the classroom door. Everyone jumped and fell silent. The air was tense with bated breath. The door was locked. Would that be enough? A voice grumbled in the hallway. A gunshot rang out. Metal hit metal and the door swung open, the lock and the barrel of an automatic rifle both smoking, filling the room with an acrid stench. Michael's stomach dropped. A figure was silhouetted in the door, some huge, shadowy, all-too-human monster straight out of a nightmare. Michael couldn't breathe. His heart was beating too fast and too loud. His pulse burned in his throat. His hand was intertwined with Jeremy's, cold and clammy and stiff. Satin petals tickled his palm as they grew on their fingers. Jeremy's pulse throbbed under the flowers, just as frantic as his own.

    He expected screams. That was the appropriate response to facing down someone with a gun, right? But everyone was silent. You could hear a pin drop. You could hear the sobs clawing at his classmate's chests. Michael stared at the shooter, holding a breath he didn't have. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see tears shining on Jeremy's pale, slack jawed face.

    The moment of peace was shattered when the shooter pulled the trigger. The students screamed and scattered for cover. Michael couldn't think. His eyes were dry, but his vision was still blurred. Shouts and sobs rang around him. The din was hot with fear and anger. Jeremy was pulling him somewhere. Cracks of gunshot and clangs of bullets filled the air as thick as the gunsmoke.

    Jeremy screamed and faltered. Michael shouted, though he wasn't quite sure why. His brain wasn't working. Was something wrong? What was wrong?

    As soon as it had started, the cacophony ended. Regaining his senses, Michael found himself kneeling on the ground, still clutching Jeremy's hand. The shooter had fallen. The barrel of the gun was in their mouth. Suicide.

    "M-Michael," Jeremy stuttered, coughing. His head whipped around to face his boyfriend.

    Jeremy's striped shirt was turning red. Blood seeped into the cotton from a spot on Jeremy's stomach. Their fingers were still laced together, the chrysanthemums spreading up their arms. Michael's mouth was dry. His voice caught in his throat. He reached his free hand to Jeremy's torso. His trembling fingers grazed the wound, and Jeremy winced, gasping as the flower sprouted. Michael couldn't move. Ragged sobs rang around them, their classmates recovering. He and Jeremy were silent.

    Michael couldn't look at Jeremy's face. His eyes, misty with tears, stayed fixed on the fiery orange flower in the ever growing pool of red. Jeremy's breath hitched with coughs.

    "Michael!" Jeremy's shout came out as more of a desperate croak. Michael forced his eyes up, blinking at his tears.

    "Jer, I--"

    "Don't."

    "It's my fault. I'm the one who said we should come." Michael wanted to scream, but his voice was stuck. He could barely manage this horrified whisper.

    "Michael."

    "No, don't talk. It'll be fine. We'll just..."

    "Shut the fuck up, Michael. God, I'm dying and I can't get a word in edgewise." Jeremy coughed at his own breathless joke.

    "There has to be something we can do! I'm not letting you d-die on me, buddy." Jeremy gave a weak smile. It was more like a grimace.

    "I love you."

    "I--" Michael's voice broke. Jeremy winced in pain as he pulled Michael's face down towards his. Jeremy's trembling lips pressed into his forehead. Hot tears flowed down Michael's face. Silent weeping turned to desperate sobs as Jeremy slowly went limp in his arms.

    Michael's skin prickled as the flowers in his hand crumbled to dust. His face screwed up against a hurricane of emotion that he couldn't stop.

    He had to force himself to attend the funeral. As numb as he was, he held his head high. The flower from Jeremy's last kiss was full and blooming on his brow, a painful, everlasting reminder that he was gone. One last flower from one last touch.

    The body in the coffin had petals dusting its lips and the wilted stem of a lone orange chrysanthemum rooted in the bullet wound.

    In an instant, his player two had met game over.

    They'd actually been warned, too.

Heere's some art I did to go with this. I would've put it at the top, but, you know, spoilers.