You sit at the bar, head cradled in you left palm as the other finds it's way wrapped around a bottle. Bringing the cool alcohol to your lips, you sighed.
It was late. The bar was practically deserted. Part of your mind whispered that maybe you should be heading back home now, that she would start to question your absence, but it was quickly silenced by another sharp swig of beer.
The fact of the matter is that no one’s missing you.
The fact of the matter is that you were too drunk to drive and couldn't afford a cab.
The fact of the matter is that it hadn't really been a home since he had... left.
Your eyes flutter slightly, the alcohol in your system making it's presence known. You consider calling Krist but after last time you're not so sure you could handle his biting accusations at this point.
You stare dreamily off into space as memories capture your senses. Old sounds come out to haunt your ears as sights play before you eyes like moving pictures. You look to your right and your breath catches slightly in your throat as you see him sitting there next to you.
The gloomy bar lights shine off his skin as his hair turns gold and silky with their dim light, shagging over his face in rough mats. You see now what you missed before... there were tears shining in his haunting cobalts.
You cautiously reach a hand forward, wanting more than anything to feel his blonde locks between your fingers just one more time but a younger vision of yourself stops you.
“Excuse me kind sir.” You watch yourself say. “Would you, um, would you like to dance?” You slur. God you must have been drunk. Alcohol dictated the mumbled speech and the way your body swayed slightly. A bittersweet sinking clutches your chest as you watch his face light up and the tears abandon his eyes. He takes your inebriated hand, falling softly off his stool and moving to cling to your chest. He looked so small and fragile.
“Careful there, love.” You hear yourself coo. “Don’t want, don’t want you to break…” And it was true that no matter what you’d always treated him like glass. That was probably why he had clung to you so. He needed someone to treat him like that, it was what he deserved.
You watched from the bar as the two of you moved into the center of the dark lit pub. You wrapped a hand cautiously, protectively around his waist as he rests his head on your shoulder. You see him sigh as a small smile rests on his face. No music filtered through the smoky haze but the two of you swayed nonetheless.
Even though you can’t hear it from the bar you remember him starting to hum. He provided the simple slow melody that moved your bodies.
“Come down… and waste away with me.” You see his eyes flutter shut as he hangs onto you just a little bit tighter. “…down with me.” You almost remember the feeling of holding him in your arms.
“Slow how, you wanted it to be. I’m over my head, out of his head he sang…” You remember kissing the top of his gnarled locks and whispering to him softly, enough to break his daze but not the feeling that surrounded you.
“What’s that?” His eyes slid open and he looked up with a furious blush creeping over his pale complexion.
“Nothing.” He’d mumbled. “Just something I made up.” You’ll never forget the look of adoration and pure love in his eyes as he spoke to you. You had smiled.
Your golden memory fades away as the bartender catches your attention.
“Closing time.” He says. “You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.”
“Yeah, yeah.” You sigh remorsefully as you slide off the stool, leaving a few green notes in your place.
Taking a step into the sharp cold air you decide against walking. It’s too damn far and just too damn cold to even bother. You spy a payphone and pull out the change that’s been jingling in your pocket all night.
You pause for a minute, fingers hovering over the cool plastic as you struggle to remember the phone number. Taking a guess you trail your fingers over the familiar digits.
The receiver echoes the mechanical ring as you wait for someone to pick up.
One, two, three… four, five, si-
“Hello?” You breathe a sigh of relief as Krist’s voice answers.
“Krist! Hey, it’s-“
“Dave, do you know what fucking time it is?” You retract your greeting at his biting interruption.
“No.” You say quietly. You eyes droop a little, exhaustion catching up with you.
“It’s four fucking thirty.” You cast a short glance down to your watch. Ah, so it is.
“I’m, ah, sorry?” You hear him give a short sigh of frustration.
“Where are you this time?” You look at the bar’s neon lights and then to the street sign in front of you.
“Eh, I’m at uh, Rick’s. Yeah, Rick’s on the corner of Lake and Monroe.” You say.
“Fine, be there in ten.” You feel guilty at his tone of voice.
“Krist, I-” But the phone went dead before you could thank him properly. Oh well, the awkward silence in the car would need some breaking.
You slouch down against the wall and pull the pack of Marlboros from your pocket. You take the lighter from the pack and place a fag between chapped lips. You flick the lighter into life and bring it to ignite the end of your cancer stick.
You take a drag, letting the nicotine smooth out your worries. The cold air is sobering you up a little. As you sit taking idle drags your thoughts float back to the scene in the bar. The two of you danced and swayed to his little song. The alcohol had made you giddy and the charged energy between you and him sent tingles dancing along your spine. That was the night everything changed. That was the night you realized just what a beauty he was.
You’d stumbled out of the bar, laughing at absolutely nothing. A lot of that night was a haze but on your way to the bus stop (none of you could even afford to dream about cars back then) you remember him tentatively sliding his small fingers through yours. It was one of the boldest things he’d ever done. He look up at you shyly, fear etched into his features as he patiently waited for rejection. And even if you’d wanted to you don’t think you could have shot him down. Instead of what he’d expected, you’d just smiled and pressed a small kiss to your intertwined fingers. It still manages to take your breath away at how well they fit together.
The two of you sat down on the small bench at the us stop. You put your arm around him as he fell into your chest. He closed his eyes and drifted as you stayed awake and protected him from anything and everything. As he fought sleep for control over his body you noticed the cold begin to control his movements. He shook slightly and took faltering breaths as he sucked in more cold air. You looked down at the thin sweater covering his bony arms. You rubbed his arm softly and he looked up at you with drowsy sapphires.
“Thought I told you to start dressing for the winter.” You said. A lazy smile played on his lips.
“Thought I told you you’re not my mother.” You shook your head and laughed softly.
“Fair enough.” You said. “But take this anyway.” He made a small noise of resistance as you let go of him in order to pull your favorite jacket from your own shoulders. You wrapped it around him, helping him into it and laughing slightly at how it dwarfed him. The soft leather sleeves came to rest about a half inch below his fingers. He nuzzled into it and leaned back against you once more.
“Thanks...” He murmured. You ran a hand delicately through his matted hair, brushing through the gnarls and smoothing them down. He sighed gently, closing his eyes and trusting you completely.
The bus came and you shook him slightly. He groaned in protest, choosing rather to cling tighter to your thin t-shirt.
“Kurt, babe.” You said. “The bus is here. S’time to go home. He looked at you a moment, confusion etched clearly into his features before he shook it off and followed you onto the bus.
You sat down in the front, choosing not to trust your legs with longer distances at this point. He slunk down next to you and once again leaned back on you. You allowed him to lounge as you held him close with your arms hugging him close. You’re pretty sure the us driver gave you a glare but by that point your couldn’t have been bothered. You were in heaven with the perfect fallen angel.
After a good ten minutes you’d assumed he’d fallen asleep again. Your eyes fell to the window as you watched the drying night life move about. Your thoughts had almost taken your mind completely when his rough voice broke through.
“You called me ‘babe’.” He said. You smiled slightly and moved your lips to his ears.
“Yeah, I guess I did.” You felt him shiver slightly at your proximity. He turned to cast a glance back at you.
“Why?” You sighed lightly and thought for a minute.
“I dunno,” you said at last. “Maybe because you’re my little baby.” He pouted.
“I’m not a little kid.” You chuckled.”
“Fine, I won’t call you that anymore.”
“No...” He smiled and leaned back more, pressing into you as much he could. “I like it.”
“Good.” You replied. “ ‘Cause I wasn’t going to stop anyway.”
He laughed a little and hugged the arms you’d wrapped around him.
It came to your stop soon enough and suddenly you found yourself stumbling through the doorway of your run-down flat. It had taken you a minute to find the keys, why the door was locked was beyond you... there wasn’t anything of much value between those crumbling walls, and the cold had started to bite at your exposed skin.
Leaning on each other you followed your feet to his room. You sat him down on the bed and your fingers found their way to his laces as you pulled off his shoes. You helped him slide between the sheets after pulling your jacket from his shoulders and sitting it one a chair. Pressing a kiss to his forehead you started to leave but stopped when a small hand grabbed yours. You turned questioning eyes to meet his crystal stare.
“Stay with me?” He asked softly. And there it was again, that look of hopeful fear. There was nothing you had wanted more than to take that look away. So you did.
“Of course.” You smiled. He relaxed instantly and pulled back the covers as you kicked off your shoes.
You had laid down next to him and opened your arms, chuckling a little at how fast he scrambled to your side. Once he’d come to rest between your arms his gaze again come to meet yours.
There seemed to be no words to say as you lounged, wrapped up in each other. Anything spoken would have tainted the perfect moment that had been created. So instead of words you just leaned down and captured his lips with yours. You smiled at the soft moan that escaped from his throat and pulled him closer to you. When you parted it was only for air. You took deep breaths as he nuzzled into your neck. You breathed him in, holding his scent in you lungs as you wished more than anything that this moment would never end. Everything was perfect and you weren’t quite sure it would ever be that real again. Winding a hand through his tangle of blonde hair you picked up where his melody from before had faded.
“Breathe out, so I can breathe you in.” You felt his leg brush against yours. “Hold you in.”
“And now I know you’ve always been,” You moved your hands to run along his back, rubbing circles and abstract design. “Out of your head, out of my head I sang...” You looked down at him as you felt his cerulean stare.
“What’s that?” He asked quietly, a small pink triangle flicked out to wet his lips.
“Nothing,” You replied. “Just something I made up.” He smiled, closing his eyes and pressing impossibly closer.
The cold wind starts to bite at you as you flick the growing ash off the end of your cigarette. That hole in your heart seems to grow a little bit bigger as memories start to fade away You grind out the cigarette butt with your heel and sight to yourself.
You pull a beat-up piece of paper from your wallet and unfold it. Calloused fingers trace over the creases as you handle the parchment like glass. Written in his familiar scrawl it says:
Don’t be angry, maybe one day you’ll understand.
I’m sorry, I love you.
PS I added a bit to our song... it just seemed to fit.
And I wonder
When I sing along with you
If everything could feel this real forever
If anything could be this good again
The only thing I’ll ever ask of you
You’ve got to promise not to stop when I say when...
You found that letter the day after he shot himself. As far as anyone knows it was the last thing he wrote, tears smudging the thick black ink.
You fold the note back up and return it to it’s place in your wallet next to a picture of the band. You want to let the threatening tears spill from behind your eyes but you realize something as you sit on the icy sidewalk. You realize that it doesn’t really matter, that it never really mattered. The fights, the tears, the blood, the guilt... none of it ever mattered because in the end you know that he’ll e waiting for your... everlong.