BL Lemons and Fluff!

ScotEng Angst

//look out! Big warning on this one. Pretty sad.

A Shame

They had been planning on fleeing the country for some time now. Maybe even the continent. Of course, water wasn't a guarantee to safety.
Rats can survive on ships just as well.

Allistor knew that their plans were just silly dreams. What hope did a farmer have of ever affording safe passage? He didn't tell Arthur this, of course. He didn't want to crush his hopes more than they already were.
The land around them was dying, it seemed. The cattle, the strays that ran about the streets. Even the crops seemed to wither. When the wind blew in from town, it reeked of rot and decay. Allistor wondered how many bodies- no, best not to think about it.
They had kept away from town since the beginning, when the first few began to drop. Allistor told Arthur that they were safe at the farmhouse, away from the streets and the people and the presence of Death. But he wasn't sure, really.

Arthur had remained optimistic, Allistor's ray of sunshine in these dark times. He often went about his usual day as if nothing were amiss; as if the smell of corpses didn't drift in from time to time. As if they weren't slowly starving away. It pained Allistor to see how thin his love had become, and it pained him even more to know that there wasn't much he could do to help.
It wasn't a decision made on a clear mind. When someone's brain is clouded with worry, it sometimes thinks things up that don't make much sense later. He knew that Arthur didn't want to be alone, deep down somewhere, but the fog obscured that line of thought.
Arthur needed food.
There was food in town.
There were also rats in town, but Allistor hardly minded. He would do anything to ensure Arthur's safety.

As the road became more paved, the cobblestones less broken and patchy, the smell of rot grew stronger. There was also the overwhelming scent of burnt flesh in the air. Ash spiralled down from the sky as he grew nearer, the fine powder settling on his hair and shoulders like snow.
When he arrived in town, he looked upon the wreckage of shops. Some of which were completely burnt out, and those that weren't had busted doors. He peered into the bakery, not a soul in sight.
He slipped inside, searching and searching for food. A rat scuttled across the floor and disappeared into a hole in the corner. When Allistor finally found something to eat, he tucked it away and headed back out.
It was only a chunk of bread, and the edges were a bit burnt, but it was good enough.

When he returned, he was greeted by Arthur's worried face in the window. His love ran out and hugged him tightly.
"Where were you?! You didn't... Go there did you?!" He asked frantically, gripping Allistor's shoulders and looking into his eyes.
"I had to go get food." Allistor said simply, pulling the bread from his shoulder bag. Arthur's eyes began to water and he quickly removed Allistor's tunic, looking him up and down.
"Wh-what if..." Arthur's voice wavered as he checked Allistor up and down, poking his muscles to check for soreness. "What if you'd... Y-you idiot!"
He hugged Allistor again tightly, and Allistor returned the hug happily. "I'm fine love. I'm alright."

The thing about fleas is, they're awfully small. They hop from place to place, and thrive where their prey thrives.

The spots were small at first. There were a few bumps in a row, standing out like little red islands on a milky sea. They dotted across his shoulder and chest, and speckled across his legs and arms. He was paler than usual, the sight of him like a ghost.
He itched them. They itched so very much. And then they hurt.
The red dots became bigger, and a darker ring circled each one. They swole, and looked almost angry.
It reminded him of...
Of the colour of Arthur's cheeks when they'd shared their first kiss. Or when he had asked Arthur to live with him. Or when-

He coughed, his throat as dry as the ashes that had finally reached their farm. Arthur rushed in, a cup of water in his trembling hands. Allistor smiled weakly at him, and Arthur almost sobbed.
He tipped the glass and let the cool water run down Allistor's throat, and Allistor swallowed with difficulty.
Arthur looked at the full extent as the plague ran it's course. The sweat that drenched his beloved Allistor, a sign that his fever was only getting worse. The swelling of the lumps, as if several eggs had been laid beneath his skin. His skin... Which was so unbelievably white. Except for where it was so unbelievably red.
Allistor was always thirsty. He had been for the past few days, but each time he drank some water, his body just sweated it out. He couldn't keep any food down. He couldn't walk, or even stand.

Arthur watched as Allistor slowly faded away. On the fifth day, a masked man brought him some flowers to cover the scent.
On the sixth day, he burned Allistor's body in the back yard.

Arthur sat on the bed, which still smelled of Allistor and sickness. He examined the small red bumps that had appeared on his arm overnight, and he couldn't help but scratch them.

Europe was dying. And he figured it only fitting that he should die along with it.

//923 words! I've been thinking of this for a bit. My dog caught fleas, and let me tell you, they're hell to get rid of and they bite like a bitch. Anyways, I just wanted to share a little sad.
//On a lighter note, I'm still accepting requests! So, please consider it, yeah?