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09 March 2012 @ 05:48 pm
One-shot: Kisses Of A Night Terror  

Title: Kisses Of A Night Terror
Rating: Teen (Dark themes)
Summary: It was starting again


It was starting again, he thought to himself as he stared out of the window and onto the lake in his backyard. He smiled to himself at the thought that he could see her once more, but the fear still encompassed him every time it began.

The water in the lake had turned from the deep, midnight blue that it normally was, the beautiful, captivating colour that welcomed anyone to come and swim in it. Now, it was a black, as though there had been an oil spill in the water. Fog lay above it, thick, heavy. Nothing could be seen through it – absolutely nothing.

Ice started to form against the windows to Darren’s bedroom, the rooms temperature fell to below freezing, but Darren found himself still warm, the comfort that he knew was coming, the security through this freak weather. His breath started to fog, the mug of hot chocolate in his hand, turning into an ice lolly in the mug; he put it on the side and smiled. His eyes were a bright green, his black hair covered his right eye, he’d been meaning to get it cut for a long time, and yet had never gotten around to it, because of work or other factors in his life. He felt another presence in the room, that of someone loving, someone so familiar and yet not. He turned away from the window and towards the bed. He felt his lip turn into a smile as he saw her. Still as beautiful as ever, the rosy cheeks that was usually upon her face were gone, but she still looked beautiful.

Darren knew that she would always have an air of beauty for as long as they both loved each other. Samantha was pale, her eyes used to be the brightest of blue, was now grey, as with her hair – once it was blonde, she would always look as though she walked out of a magazine, flawless.

Now, the grace and beauty she had reminded Darren of an old black and white film star. He closed his eyes as her hand touched his cheek lightly; it was cold, but Darren imagined how warm it had been once upon a time. He put his hand over hers and sighed happily, watching the face in front of him: the thin, pale lips turned into a smile, content with just this.

“I told you that I would come tonight,” she breathed, her voice softer than Darren had ever remembered it to have been. He nodded in response, he didn’t want to speak just yet, just feel and listen. “I’ll never break my promise, Darren, as you would never break yours.”

“Never,” he breathed, finally, his eyes locking up to hers. “Every moment you’re not beside me hurts, my dear Sam,” Darren blinked away what he knew would be the beginning of tears; a smile on his face that he knew matched hers.

Darren felt her lips upon his and gasped, it was never the same as before, but it was equally as gratifying. Her lips were cold against his warm lips, they weren’t as wet as he remembered, and they didn’t have that distinct taste of cherries, but they still tasted of her. He briefly let himself wonder if to her he tasted the same. He would never voice it, though. He didn’t often like to talk about anything when they had this moment.

With a blink of his eyes, he had been moved to the bed, under the covers, her head against his chest, automatically, he was rubbing her back the way he knew soothed her. No words had ever been needed, and they most definitely weren’t needed now.

For what seemed like hours, Darren held Samantha to his chest, his lips never leaving her soft hair. One of the things he had noticed had not changed; her hair was as soft as silk still.

“Soon I won’t be able to do this, I’m getting weaker,” Samantha breathed against him, her hand clutching at his shirt, looking up at him with the eyes that Darren hated to see – the pleading, desperate and full of fear and sadness in her eyes. He squeezed his shut; he had spent months looking at those eyes, and had to watch her downfall as the disease spread around her body. Now, he had to watch those eyes when he was sure she was safe.

“You’re asking again,” he breathed out shakily, opening his eyes slowly. “Sammy, I can’t, you know I’m not strong enough.” Of course he knew what she meant when she spoke of what she wanted from him – with no words; Darren still knew that she wanted him to join her. She wanted him to take his life, as she had selfishly made him do for her.

“Please, Darren,” she breathed, her voice aching with sorrow, with pain. “I can’t be without you for much longer.” Just months ago, she had uttered a different sentence in the same voice, and that equally made Darren crumble to the floor in agony. “Please, Darren. I can’t do this for much longer; I’m not strong enough to fight anymore. What good is fighting when you are losing like I am?” Darren let out a ragged sob, he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” he breathed, looking distraught. She had asked time and time again for this, and Darren could not deliver. He had other commitments to think of, he had work, the students that needed him – he had his family, Samantha’s family and so short after her death, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t.

“You never break your promise, Darren; I’ve heard you, every night, telling me in your sleep that we will be together soon. I’ve seen what you have done to stop the pain and this will take it all away, and then we can be together for the rest of our lives, Darren. We can always be together.” Darren shook his head, tears rolling down his cheeks – he knew if she had the ability to cry, she would be.

“Think that this may be the last time, Darren,” he shook his head, he couldn’t.

But looking across the room to his en suite, he could see the tools he’d need to end his suffering; and end hers once more. All it would take is a push in the right direction, and slowly, Samantha was doing that for him. Taking the choice away from him would be too hard, but assisting him, like he had done with her, she could do.

Samantha would do it if it meant they could be together for a longer period of time then they had been previously.

Her lips were pressed against his softly, and for the last time they would feel cold as a razor blade made two neat lines down his wrists and the life was being taken from his body.


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iwegon215 on February 17th, 2013 03:11 am (UTC)
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