pg13, justin pov, slightly au,
Written in Feb 2006
Richard's voice filters in through the roar of waves hitting rocks and the pounding of my own pulse as it fills me up inside, a blood red thickness, numbing my mind and I meet his gaze steadily, as though there is nothing more to it, to anything. As though my entire life, and every trivial tragedy in it, has meant nothing, if not to pass the ticking of time as it in turn passed me by, only to gather in the corner of my eye, awaiting, this.
Indeed, when I lock my eyes with Richard's now, it all comes together in a full force collision with clarity, and then there is nothing, no sounds at all, and I realize. I know.
His eyes are sad, begging and demanding all at once, even taunting on and off as various sources of light are reflected in them as twinkles of underlying emotion, and then again, it could be. With Richard, you never know. But the sorrow is always there, amidst these conflicting aspects of the colour of his irises, an ever present undertone in his soul and as I take it all in now completely, perhaps for the first time, into me and digest it behind my frontal bone - I know.
It is as though my entire life and all the bullshit in it has been building up to this moment alone, now, right here and right now. I raise the gun and put it to my head, the light in Richard's eyes falters briefly, a flicker of regret mingled with the ever present and never escapable grief. I allow my own eyes to flutter shut, but he is constantly there, behind my eyelids, waiting for me: with smiling eyes devoid of sadness, with an innocently open grin, just for me.
I clench my jaws reflexively. He speaks again, somewhere in the distance, I hear his voice, his beautiful voice:
But only dimly, as if filtered by water, drowned in the waves below the cliff, but I hear it. I hear it clearly. But it's as though my whole life has been nothing but a long and pointless wait, all for this moment, and I've finally run out of patience.
I want him all to myself. In the next life I'll never let him go. I'll not fail to tell him, I'll not fail him.
"Justin, don't do it, wait, I've changed my mind…!-"
And I pull the trigger with a gentle squeeze, and really it's like my finger was made for the gesture, my temple meticulously chiselled out only to be blown apart by the angry bullet, every second of my entire life endured just to make this choice: and then, it's all over.
All is black. But I'm not afraid anymore. I know he'll follow me now. He'll throw himself at my lifeless body, he'll be teary-eyed when he embraces me, but he'll reach out and take the gun from my hand, he'll put it to his head and follow me. I'll wait for him. Just a moment longer I'll wait, just for him.