*warning dark snippet a head*
Mar. 22nd, 2002 12:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
psghayleauxOkay so I got bitten by a plot bunny, a very dark plot bunny that at first only wanted a short little fic-let. Unfortunately it decided that it needed to be developed more. I haven't the energy to continue it at this point.
I think its Dom/Elijah, but at this point there are no names so it could be anyone.
Please please please don't read it if you don't like reading about suicide. And if you do despite my warning don't yell at me about it.
Emotionally exhausted, yet unable to sleep. Mind plagued with what had happened during the day, and by what was to come.
'How could this have happened?' he thought, 'I thought what we had was forever. Yet here I am alone and without him.'
Things had been going so well, and then out of the blue seemingly he said he had to leave. That he couldn't be part of what they had any longer. So he left, packed up all his stuff and left with him standing there, tears running down his face, pleading to know why.
He's said it was for his career, that he needed to be in a relationship that was more socially expectable. "Its been fun, you're a really nice guy," he'd said, "But its time to move on. You'll find someone else."
He didn't think he'd find any one though; he didn't want anyone else. He'd had the person he wanted, but he'd left him without seeming to care how he was affected. The mere thought of seeing him but not being able to be his any more was more than he could handle.
So he lay there in bed unsleeping, trying not to think, trying not to feel. He decided that it was more than he could deal with. So he picked up the knife he'd brought into his, no their, bedroom.
The knife was sharp; there was almost no pain as he slit his wrists. Then he lay down in their bed and waited for the darkness to over take him.
I think its Dom/Elijah, but at this point there are no names so it could be anyone.
Please please please don't read it if you don't like reading about suicide. And if you do despite my warning don't yell at me about it.
Emotionally exhausted, yet unable to sleep. Mind plagued with what had happened during the day, and by what was to come.
'How could this have happened?' he thought, 'I thought what we had was forever. Yet here I am alone and without him.'
Things had been going so well, and then out of the blue seemingly he said he had to leave. That he couldn't be part of what they had any longer. So he left, packed up all his stuff and left with him standing there, tears running down his face, pleading to know why.
He's said it was for his career, that he needed to be in a relationship that was more socially expectable. "Its been fun, you're a really nice guy," he'd said, "But its time to move on. You'll find someone else."
He didn't think he'd find any one though; he didn't want anyone else. He'd had the person he wanted, but he'd left him without seeming to care how he was affected. The mere thought of seeing him but not being able to be his any more was more than he could handle.
So he lay there in bed unsleeping, trying not to think, trying not to feel. He decided that it was more than he could deal with. So he picked up the knife he'd brought into his, no their, bedroom.
The knife was sharp; there was almost no pain as he slit his wrists. Then he lay down in their bed and waited for the darkness to over take him.
