McPriceley Oneshots

The Torn (Angst)

A/N: This'll be like a collection of stuff. And it's short, sorry. It's really weird, idk why I wrote it... and it's not not normal writing style??? Eh you'll figure it out. And it's like a bunch of lil' baby shorts hehehe I don't know why I'm laughing they're not funny. Sorry for making this so weird but I wanted to write angst sooooo yup.

Connor's POV (the only one left)

The drawers are filled with pens run dry.
Each used to scratch off each reminder.

Every map in the house has one inked out spot.
A frenzy of raging passion one night.
That turned into every night.

Will I ever be able to look at that state the same way?
No. 
Will I ever be able to look at that state again?

The DVD shelves lay picked over.
All of that company's movies gone.
I tried to burn them.
Chris stopped me.
"Because of the fumes," he'd said.

Each mug I owned turned into shards at the bottom of the bin.
The multicolor pottery made me sick.
Chris emptied the trash that day.

Every night I strain my eyes, begging to stay awake.
To not have to delve into that hallucinating world.
My pleading is not enough.
Was never enough.

They taunt my waking hours too.

...

Kevin's POV (the lost)

The curtains are sewed together.
Sunlight doesn't flood any of the rooms.

I can't remember the last time it did.

Arnold laments the lack of color.
The grey and black dominate every room.
No room for anything but the abyss.
Seeing blue or pink would drive me over the edge.
I ignore him.

There used to be a person on TV.
Each day they would smile.
Smile brighter than fluorescents.
The TV's somewhere in a used electronics store.

I used to intricately decorate my mugs with designs.

Flowers.
Hearts.
Now I clench my hand till it turns white.
Cover up the emblems.
Drink my eleventh cup.

I had a bird.
Brilliant red feathers, majestic and commanding.
A beautiful voice that could hold any melody.
It flew free around my house.
Now it flies in a cage.
Deep in Arnold's basement.

Sleeping was a basic need.
Now it's a relief.
Back where I belong.

...

Connor's POV (the holder of memories)

He loved keys. He wondered in the way they were unique, but each had a purpose.

He loved leading. He relished taking charge, and though he would never admit it, helping others.

He loved waking up. He said it held a promise of change and growth.

He loved coffee. For some reason, he worshipped that drink.

He loved taking my hand. In public or in private, if he could, my hand was in his.

He loved talking. When he began, he didn't stop in his smooth, enticing voice.

He loved Orlando. He loved that place and everything it stood for, more than he could explain.

He loved me. 

I think.

...

Kevin's POV (the bitter one)

Why him?

Him who kissed me on the nose before greeting.

Him who blushed like a poppy in bloom.

Him who had eyes like an ocean in the sun.

Him who couldn't be seen without a smile until we were behind closed doors.

Him who put everyone before him.

Him who did everything with a confidence that inspired everyone around him.

Him who danced.

Him who helped.

Him who loved.

Loved me.

Why him?

...

Connor's POV (the acceptor)

I'm supposed to move on.
That's what Chris insists on.
Every time he visits.

"It'll still hurt," he says. 
"But I got over it, so you will too."
He thinks I can't see James' face in his wallet.

So I move on. 
I buy a new map.
This one, I mark where I've been.
Instead of where I want to burn.

I buy a mug.

Not for coffee.
But I sip hot chocolate. 
It burns in my throat and my heart.

I went to the movies with Chris.
It was a new one of theirs.
I started crying as soon as the castle appeared.
But I sat through it.
I pictured him in Chris' seat next to me.

Sleep no longer has anything in it.
It's a breath of fresh air.

To not have to see anything at all.

...

Kevin's POV (the waiting one)

It's almost time.

Time for smiles.
Time for sun.
Time for oceans.
Time for sparkles.
Time for light.
Time for dancing.
Time for breathing.

Time for companionship.

Time for loving.
Time for seeing.

It's almost time.

I'm almost there.

Just a little bit longer, I promise.

I love you.

...

Connor's POV (holding on)

I... I'm almost there.

I love you.

Almost made it to you,
Kevin.

...

Kevin's POV (the hopeful last)

And I should see you there.

I wish.

You must be there,
Connor.

...

Both (The torn)

Please.

...

686 words sorry for the shortness.

How was it? It was kinda an experiment so I don't really know how it turned out.

Idk I really like sad stuff it might be my depression talking but who knows?

Anywayssssss REQUESTS

Ily! 

-Em