Our Song

Song For The Asking

A/N: Heads up everyone this chapter will be handling the topic of suicide. If you cannot feel subjects like that, Please skip over this chapter.
If you or a loved one are struggling with suicidal thoughts, please call this suicide hotline number 1-800-273-8255.

Art's hand felt cold in Paul's. Paul closely monitored Art's chest as it slowly rose and fell. It brought a smile to Paul's face that he survived.

"I can't believe they did this to you." Paul felt sorry for running away. "I should've taken you with me."

Paul was selfish for choosing his life over his partner's. The bruises covering Art's face shamed Paul even more.

Paul brushed away the tears caked onto his face. His firm grip on Art's hand hardened. If he let go, he feared Art would die.

Paul continued the conversation as if Art would respond: "Those bruises look horrible." Art's face was nearly unrecognizable, the skin around his nose swelling from the fracture. "You'll still be forever handsome to me." Paul chuckled with tears streaming down his cheeks again.

Paul leaned over and planted a soft kiss on Art's forehead, wishing it would wake him up like in the Disney movie's. The harsh reality hit Paul like a ton of bricks; his life was far from a fairytale with a happy ending.

It had been twelve hours since they had been jumped, and Art didn't even stir. His bright eyes covered with sleep. His breathing was stable, but he wasn't there.

Paul was disheveled. He hadn't stepped in the apartment they shared since the attack. He refused to eat, or sleep. He wanted to stay by Art's side.

Paul was exhausted, his eyes drooping. A melancholy expression on his face. His dark eyes were waiting for an answer to his million questions.

"You're horrible." The shadow returned making Paul feel more down and out.

"I know, I should've brought him with me."

"No, you should've stayed behind, and fought for him."

More tears exploded out of Paul's eyes. He threw his body onto his unconscious partner. He squeezed his body, crying. He settled near him stroking his hair.

"Please come back." Paul cried. "You mean so much to me. You are too young. You never deserved it; it should've been me!" Paul was throwing a pity party for himself.

Paul missed the snarky comments Art would make when Paul was solemn. Paul wanted Art to say how ridiculous he was being.

"Paul." Art moaned in pain.

"Artie." Paul's voice quivered a smile forming on his lip.

"Paul." Art reiterated, his sentences limited.

"I'm here; it's okay." Paul kissed Art's lips to prove he was there.

Art snuggled closer to Paul. He returned the hug Paul so desperately wanted. Paul lifted his face. Art's blue eyes stared up at Paul with horror.

"They're not here anymore; you're okay."

"They never found you?"

"I hid behind a dumpster. It was a big mistake."

"It's fine." Art turned his head to the side to get in a more comfortable position.

"No, it's not; you could've died out there."

"It's a couple of bruises so what? They never got my money."

"They broke your nose! Here I am with a scrape on my hand and your sitting in the hospital."