|| BXB One-shot Book ||

|| Fuck My Liver. pt 7 ||

Time passed quickly and Riley found himself struggling to keep up. He didn't know if he'd been there for hour, or a day, or a week a month a year a decade....

All he knew was that somewhere in time, he had left the warmth of the bar and ended up in the city park, sitting on a snow-covered bench and staring at the dark buildings around him. Riley studied the structure with hazy eyes, sniffing occasionally. His features were red with a combination of the alcohol, the crying, and the cold.

He was barely aware that the warmth of his body was melting the snow below him, making his clothing wet and redding the pale skin underneath his thighs. If anything, he wasn't aware of it at all. Riley's arms were resting along the top of the solitary bench, and he leaned back with a deep sigh. His gray eyes watched the vapor curl from his lips with vague fascination, those eyes soon focused on the same before him.

The park was dark and empty. The only light in this bitter world was the moon, a bright silver sphere in the sky. In it's light, the world was drained of all color, satisfied to simply glitter silently and it's winter coat. Though it was beautiful, Riley found he hated it.

It was too similar to himself; cold, desolate, and drained.

His body begged to differ, what with the almost overwhelming heat filling and his plump cheeks, not to mention his now constant inner turmoil.

Riley sighed and looked to his feet, moving his feet idly in the snow as one would with sand at the beach. He took idle notice of the singular sock he wore, thin and patterned with   small Psyduck heads. Some part of him knew that being unable to feel to feel the cold was a bad sign but he chose to ignore the observation.

There was a tear in his sock, probably from his walking all around town. With a surprising amount of struggle he managed to recall where he'd walked from, and the events before it.

He had been at the bar and already on his sixth drink, Tora trying to comfort him as Riley nursed his drink.

He could remember how Tora had gently touched the back of his good hand, telling him he was loved and safe with Andre. That being hung up on Yuuto was temporary, normal.

That he was exactly like everyone else.

That was what made Riley snap, the boy bolting off his drool so fast it clattered noiselly to the floor. With this sudden rage, Riley began to shout at the man who'd been trying to help him. He could still remember through the haze of alcohol what he said to him, howled at Tora from the top of his lungs. His throat was still sore from it.

"You don't know what my world looks like!!" Riley had screamed, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks and crawling down his neck. "I'm wasn't made like everyone else! This is the first time I'd ever felt love, and you're acting as it's as dumb as something written in pencil!"

Riley lowered his volume a degree when he spoke again, as it was hard to scream through his tightening throat. He could feel the people staring at him, but he'd given up with caring. His puffy eyes kept themselves locked on Tora, who's face held a mixture of shock and concern.

"With pencils, you can erase your mistakes. But life isn't fucking preschool, Tora. I grew up and I started writing with pens or sharpies like everyone else, and when you mess up it can't be undone. You either live with it, or white out that shit.

"That's what Yuuto did; he wrote over me with bright new colors and kept on writing his story. Yuuto took my 'whiteout' and now I can't do shit to get rid of his sharpie marks on my heart."

His metaphor sounded childish as he said it, the terminology probably stemming from the alcohol, but Tora understood him. That much Riley could tell. His body shook as he continued to speak, words just barely squeezing past his trembling lips.

"...I can't bring myself to throw out our story. I can't." He hugged himself, shoulders hunching pathetically as he struggled to stay on his feet. "I'd rather get rid of myself than forget him."

With a somber smile, Riley met Tora's eyes and murmured, "Maybe that's what I have to do."

From there he'd marched out and into the city, wandering for hours until he eventually got himself lost. He'd left his phone at Andre's anyway, so there was no going back even if he wanted to.

He'd somehow made it here though, to this quaint little park. He stared up at the moon as he reflected on tonight, now starting to feel guilty for how he treated Tora. He was just trying to help, and like everything Riley went and ruined it.

He sighed and put his face in his hands, closing his eyes as he grabbed gentle fistfuls of his own dirty hair. His mind wouldn't leave him alone, screaming horrors at him. Each silent scream echoed within him, renewed with each heartbeat and each breath.

He can't help you. No one can. Hell, dying would be easier than finding someone to to help at this point.

Riley lifted his eyes to the buildings again as tears pooled in his eyes.

You're broken Riley. Face it. No one has ever tried to fix you before, why would anyone start caring now? Even so, no one's going to care about you to see the job through.

But Andre does, he argued weakly to himself.

He only wants to see you happy so he doesn't have to put up with your pathetic bullshit. He wants you to slap on a smile and soldier on, even if your lungs stop working. That's what everyone wants; for you to become a carbon copy and be their perfect little soldier.

Riley's expression darkened with a new resolve, the muscles in his face relaxing as he realized what he had to do. With what strength he had left, he growled but one sentence to the cold city around him.

"Riley Lait takes orders from no one."

|| ahaha, it's out now ||
|| the next (and last) part is not a happy ending :') ||