Our Tainted Dream

Twenty Nine: Don't Leave

Gray's P.O.V

Kei's voice rings in my ears, albeit blurred by the sound on my own heartbeat. He coos words as his breath lingers on my neck, his own heartbeat as fast as mine.

He holds me there, as much as I want to run over to the open window, to see his own corpse, cold and puddled with his own blood. I want to see for myself, his dead body sprawled and mangled against the hard ground.

But Kei keeps me there, trapped between his arms, blinded by his hand, seated on the cold tiled floor.

I thought I could fix him. I thought I could make him whole again. That glint in his eyes when he smiles, those dimples on his cheeks, the longing in his voice. I thought he was healing.

But I was wrong. I should have noticed it. Every time he rushes out the door, not even a glance my way. I should have noticed his long strides, his lowered head, his shaking fingers.

But most of all I should have noticed his pain.

"Oh, Gray." Kei's voice quivers, his heart racing against my ears. I try to call for him, but the knot in my throat keeps me from doing so.

And, slowly, his hand disappears.

I hate this. I hate this empty feeling, I hate seeing the happy, cheerful, dorky Kei cry. For me, for him. I hate that I wasn't fast enough to stop the man from falling.

"It's not your fault, Gray." He whispers.

Mom.

"It never was, Gray." He says again, louder.

"I could have—Reid—" I stutter, wanting to get up, wanting to head over, but his grip does not waver, it tightens.

"It's not your fault!" He finally yells, spinning me around so I face him. He's smile is a frown, his laughter now cries.

I hate seeing him like this.

"It was never your fault. It was his decision, his—his choice!"

I don't understand.

Mom never liked him. A bad influence, she said. She saw him dirty, uneducated, poor and stupid.

But he's not.

And Reid's not too.

I know if Kei gave up on his bitchy attitude he would have strayed away a long time ago. Strayed away like Reid did.

I break into tears when he leans into me, putting a long, meaningful kiss on my forehead. I can feel his warm tears, dripping onto my lap, his rough hands cupping my face.

It'll be alright. I remember, his child voice.

"Kei." I call, sniffing.

"Don't leave."