#a(deathnote)

Ax Beyond birthday fic!

A wants to confess to Beyond and hopes it goes to plan... wc:1964ish

warning: sucide

          Transparent were their gazes that loomed over me like overgrown evergreens. I truly  didn't mind, I was leaving after all, going back to the safety of my room. The cracked pavement was filled by the sounds of steps and hollow laughter. The mundane life never quite interested me. I could feel the force of someone running towards me. I knew who it was. It was my B.

            “A, slow down! Stop trying to scamper away so quickly, or I'll lose you.”  B called out, typically he was usually less cheery than me from the long event of school.

            “A? Hello?” A familiar voice  surrounded me. My eyes filled with sleep, my mind coated in haze of yesterday. Only then did I realise it was my B.

            “Man, you keep falling asleep.” He sighed, leaning on his arm to smile at me.

            “Why are you smiling like that?” I could feel the heat rise to my face as I internally beat myself up for the defensive tone of my voice.

            “I guess,” He turns back towards the board as my teeth gnaw on my battered lip. “You’re just special.”   

           Special? What did B mean by that? Was there a chance that he felt the same? For the longest time I’ve been putting my feelings off due to the unknown factor, if B likes boys or not. Focus, A, focus today’s the day, time to man up. I’ll confess to B. Just  staring at him makes me so happy: the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way his bangs almost cover his eyes and so much more.  I swear, his tall torso and legs, nimble fingers and those eyes with a slight red tint, must have been carved by Zeus himself. Truly, I don’t think anyone has ever made as happy as B has. I want him to be as happy with me as I am with him.

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             After the sharp brill of the bell, B lurched forward taking hold of my hand. He grabbed my hand! My hand! I liked-no loved when he strung me along in his plans, it felt we were the power couple of a cheesy sitcom and I loved it. 

            I was usually tense in these crowded halls. But B made me feel safe like we were the only souls here. Pure ecstasy is what it felt like to be floating in a world with the boy I loved and myself, he truly broke down my empty soul filling it with light as if he was the garden tending to the lavender of my heart. 

             The warmth of B’s breath gingerly hit my ear;“ Hey let’s skip,” He’s whispering in my ear; and at that realization my face turns to bubblegum, pink from blush and all sticky from the sparsely populated sweat droplets forming on my forehead. “I think the Econ teacher has a bone to pick with me,  and we could have so much more fun in the garden, right?”

             My only thought at that moment, could be described as; ‘Who will even notice?’ Being with B is much better than any class or lecture.     

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            Warmth from the sun always accentuated the gossamer florals this time of year, a perk of being in Britain, was the British love of florals that consumed everyone infant and older. The sun crept from the nook of my back up to the colossal oak pergolas creating dancing patterns on the ground.

            A soft sigh emanated interrupting my thoughts, B seemed very pleased with this new adventure of ours. ”Just us staring at some flowers, much better than a pop quiz right?”

            He was wrong and as much as I hated to contradict him I had to at this moment but not verbally, no not yet. While B’s head turned to the fresh blooms of lavender his dark hair created contrast just above his beige chapped lips. One thing was true in this moment. My eyes were fixed on B and only him. His dark mutilated shirt contrasted his pale ghoul like skin but it was all tied together with his dark panda like undereyes. Currently, this scene was far too eloquent for a moment of simplicity like this in a simple garden.

            “A? Are you doing ok? You seem far too pale and you are zoning out,” With a cock of his head and a slight sketch of worry painted across his face.”If you didn't want to skip class with me, I'm sorry for pressuring you to come out here.”

           The sincerity of his voice crept up my spine like a far too smart predator. Panic arises in me. No! I can’t let bond think that I hate him, that would be the biggest cataclysmic failure of my life! “B! No, no absolutely not! I really don't mind being out here, doing this with you,” at that I lean down to caress a strand of fallen hair from his jagged features. The way his dark maroon eyes scan my face for reassurance will never leave my mind. An image too beautiful to be forgotten, I'll make sure of that. “I want to spend time with you. Only you, do you understand?”

             “I understand A, we all have sentimental bond-s to things.” I could hear his soft chuckle at his hasty response. 

            “B? Can we sit down?”

           “Of course, do you want to sit on the pavement or a bench?” His  voice echoed through me and hesitantly I nodded.

           As we set a slow pace towards a shaded bench, I could feel his eyes gazing at me, with an intent I hoped was positive. I held him in such high regard and I prayed endlessly that my confession wouldn't ruin our friendship.

           Once seated on the rickety bench my hands began to meddle with the loose strings of my T-shirt. One way or another that's the only way my confession could be interpreted, and I begged to any deity watching me that B would reciprocate. Thank God that B wouldn’t pull the I like you very much too, you’re my best friend A. Unless; B's speciality was solving logical problems like cases, not romantic feelings, what if he thought I was just being friendly? No,no,no stop thinking like that A. If this goes south B will most likely ignore me, it's not like he’ll move to California, and try to become a detective on his own, right?  And even if he did it wouldn't succeed, he needs me knowing B he’d say something like I am an unprivate detective—a detective without ego.’ 

         “I don’t know what to say, you see- well you know I am not the best with feelings. But even I can tell you have something troubling you, maybe the case you were assigned isn’t going well I can offer my input,” He paused for a second before continuing in a tone a few decibels lower. ”I am your backup after all.”

         Oh how he despised that title, I knew that B hated being a backup even to me, his dear friend. He saw it made him less than me a simple successor.

        The taunts always grew worse when finals season crept around, so here I was sitting in a bathroom, back pressed to a stall.

        “B, I don’t get how you're my backup. I promise you that, I mean for goodness sake you got the highest mark, not me!” My young voice managed to squeak out these words before the bathroom returned to the sound of soft retches. 

             Thinking back on it, I loved B back then too. I always will.”You’re right, I have something bothering me, it’s not a case though,”After a full moment of silence I turn to face the boy I've spent my youth fawning over.   “There’s something I need to tell you.” My stance was blunt. I had finally given myself enough courage to confess. Thankfully, at my request B sat down and I collected myself next to him.” B I’m in- I like you a lot.” I tried and most likely failed to make it seem natural.

           His face went from uninterested to shocked then remorse? “Oh, A I’m sorry but I don’t. I have too much to focus on before even considering romance. I am truly sorry but I don't feel the same. There's nothing else to say, I have to go to the washroom, bye.” With that B dipped his head and abandoned the scene.

            It feels as if my heart has been pierced by a spear of hate and longing, an icepick to my heart. Hot bulbous tears gather in my tear ducts, spreading down to my hands that won’t wrap around B’s anymore, to my shirt that B has borrowed. A tragedy my heart took without thanks. Tears stream faster and hotter down my face as my only reflex is to curl up trying to protect what little of myself is left, after B. Oh B, the keeper of my heart, the only one,  holding it in an iron grip. I don't think I can bury these feelings. My love for B will most likely echo these halls far longer than societally acceptable or globally. He was one true friend and my love has decimated this.

            I don’t know. I feel that I should’ve noticed B’s nontraditional views of romance. Whenever I brought up falling in love and the whole sha-bang, he’d always tense and look off. I used to hope that it was just due to him loving me. 

           I feel as this is it, my main point of life has ended and now it’s either become the successor I was born to be or leave this prison of a life. 

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          I stand at the edge of A’s empty room. The movers were told to remove all the old furniture. My intention was never for A to die, that was the exact opposite. But I panicked when he confessed, I’ve been trying for too long to suppress these feelings of mine. I kept pushing them down the sooner A’s death date got, I thought it would help. I should’ve known better my whole life pushing people and places away never helped, why would it now?  I made a makeshift seat with my sweater on the damp bloodstained floor. Just a few days ago poor Near walked into this room seeing his senior hang from the ceiling. The poor kid.

          I tried, I tried to save my friend, my one companion. They never listened, if only Roger listened I could’ve gotten A to stay. It’s their fault if they only’d listen. 

         My uneven nails dig into my calloused palms drawing blood.I sit there for a while, I can't bear to move from where A took his last breath, was I on his mind?  Did he see me as he choked on air?  I hoped he didn't.

          I staggered up, and in the process brought down a vase filled with wilting lavender. I helped pick those.

          Fresh later summer air consumed us, we were darting through the bushes. THWAT. I saw A fall, after a few strides I had arrived at his side, with a handful of lavender. Lavender? I must have picked it when scurrying over here . My hands lingered debating if I should tuck the branch into A’s hair. I can't, he needs space. I look up from A’s grateful eyes to be faced with his date of death in glimmering ruby writing, no too soon. How can he only have 13 days left?