His eyes dancing along the ridges left in the blanket, fingers slowly drifting across the bare area, leaving smooth plains in their wake. The sheets still warm.
The indent he left was shallow. Daniel was just able to trace Corbyn's body in the crater. Almost able to see him laying there. His face soft with sleep, no longer plagued with the wrinkles the cracked his beautiful porcelain in the waking world.
But, the space lay empty now. Void of the body that once pressed into it, void of his warmth. Leaving Daniel cold. Alone.
I had to go back, his note had read, he's coming home today.
And it hurt.
It hurt so much.
Some part of him had known, some piece that he had shut out long ago. Pushed to very back of his mind, leaving it to die in the shadows of the forgotten.
That part whispered to him now. Thriving in the aftermath of Corbyn's betrayal.
Jeremiah means more than you.
Everyhting in him wanted that to be a lie. Every inch of him yearning for the truth to be anything but. Pleading that Corbyn hadn't grown to love the man the that beat him everyday more than him. Pleading that in all their time together, in all their firsts, that Corbyn would care for him more than a monster that had broken bones.
But how could he deny it anymore?
Those words had been empty. Corbyn's promise hollow, echoing back his words.
Those promises hadn't meant a damn thing to him. They were nothing more than ways to get him to shut up. Little reassurances to guide him into a false sense of security. A lullaby of lie to lull him to sleep.
He doesn't care anymore, why should you?
The dark thought purring at the very edge of his subconscious. The precipice on which his darkest fantasies festered. Dreams of killing Jeremiah. Whisperings of forcing Corbyn to stay, it was to keep him safe after all.
Why don't you just let go? He clearly has.
His fans spiraling winds seemed to snicker as they slithered beneath the covers. Taunting him whilst they licked at his belly, he isn't here, Daniel. Your precious Corbyn isn't keeping you warm.
It isn't your job to save him.
The throb of his heart was agonizing. The simple beating left his eyes glistening. His oceans leaking their clear blue, going glassy as their precious water was depleted.
That sinister voice reminding him of each time he was the second choice, the last resort.
How many times has he thrown you away?
How many times has Corbyn forgotten you just because Miah said so?
Slowly, the ache stopped. So did his heart.
He felt almost numb. No longer burning from his tears or trembling from the pain.
The cold seemed so much worse, winding around him. Holding him close because Corbyn wasn't.
He gave up.
He isn't fighting for this.
Why should you?
♤
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YOU ARE READING
Crying Out
RomanceInspired by Crying Out For Me by Mario ♤ " Dani... not now. Please." " That's what you always say." ♤ It's so soft, so desperate. No wonder you can't hear it. But... its your heart, crying, begging. Maybe its always been there? Is it why I was drawn...
