And In The End He Spoke the Truth

Dangerous. 

Azrael was used to dangerous. He had been around it, been it, but it had been a long time since the thought crossed his mind. Since he even strayed enough to be with company such as this - such as the boy who sat across him with eyes like pits, sucking everything in.

Leaving nothing out. 

And for some reason, even as smiles and laughs seemed fake on plush red lips, and words that held no meaning except the beauty of them left his mouth, Azrael had never been afraid. Not once, did he feel the trembling in his chest, the way his breathing became rapid and his vision blurred along the edges.

All this boy seemed to him was sad.

It didn’t matter how much the other tried to deny it, to cast the thought away, it was normally those who tried to avoid it the most that were truly the most sad. 

The sadder thing was, the boy seemed content that way. Content in his jaded way of life, the way he viewed everything as a game. Viewed everyone as things to be judged, to be picked on, to be killed. And he was happy this way, he didn’t change his views, didn’t think wrong of them. 

One moment, he saw a child. A child that never did what it was told, clung to him no matter how many times he was brushed off, gave him these smiles, every once in a while, that seemed so pure. But then there were those times where the boy’s voice grew deeper, his eyes dark as his hands reached out to strangle. As blades dug into skin, and blood stained both of their bodies, soaking into the fabrics of their clothes. 

He should’ve run. He should’ve seen the beast that raged and screamed inside those eyes, those broken eyes, but he didn’t. Instead, he only continued to smile, continued to laugh. Continued to wrap bandages around the gashes and sing with a hoarse, broken voice. 

In the end, he always stayed. 

Eley always smelt of either perfume, cologne, or blood. There was no variation, it always remained those three. As cold hands reached out to him and a sly voice called out his name, asked him for something that Azrael couldn’t give, he only laughed.

Don’t you have others to satisfy you? He’d ask, his eyes skirting along the hickeys that were dark on the boy’s skin. And Eley knew, he knew as he always said that Azrael was the only one for him. Reaching out to him as if he had done nothing, even if he smelt of someone else. Azrael always knew a liar, they both knew. The boy had positioned the shirt just right to make it visible, to make Azrael’s chest clench as he tried to look away.

Eley always knew the most subtlest ways to hurt him. And even when they both knew, they pretended as if they didn’t. As Azrael tried to breathe through the pain in his heart, he’d smile, because it was the only thing he knew how to do.

Why be angry, why be sad? He knew as he continued to break, continued to lay on his back at night and catch his quivering breath, that this had all been planned. That as he felt himself slipping, Eley was laughing. That this was what he had planned for all along, and although Azrael had seen the outcome, he didn’t care. Even as he reached out to a turned back, his lips trembling and the tears burning the bottoms of his eyelids, he didn’t care.

Eley left for days, sometimes. Most of the time, it was months. No matter how long he had known the boy, no matter how close they seemed to have gotten, Eley always turned his back. Azrael would wake to the morning light only to see that the other side of the bed was empty, and he’d cry, knowing the boy was gone again. 

For how long?

How long must he wait this time? How long must he pick up all the pieces, singing until his voice was hoarse, try to move on only for Eley to barge into his life again? He’d try to forget, he’d try to wipe those tears and smile again only for familiar arms to wrap around him once more.

He’d tried to cut it off. His face had twisted in agony when he saw that familiar upturn of lips, and he had slammed doors, lashed out, screamed. He had always thought of moving away, of changing numbers, of doing anything to get away, but he still stayed. He set his back to the door and waited for it to open, for him to look up to eyes that looked calmly back at him.

What they had wasn’t love. It wasn’t something as simple as that. Maybe, at one point, Azrael could have found this to be loving Eley. That the thing chaining him to this life was love.

But maybe he had forced himself to forget, forced himself to pretend. 

It hurt less. 

Normally singing could purge it all, could ease the pain and make a smile appear on his face again. He had wanted to share that experience with Eley one day, that happiness that he believed didn’t exist.

Azrael couldn’t sing anymore. Not when he remembered a head on his lap, a voice that asked for a thousand songs all dedicated to the one man that had thrown such a simple life into chaos. Not when just uttering one word from his lips made him bend over and put his face in his hands, crying again.

All he could do was cry now.

Cry as blood bled from his wounds. Cry as Eley bent over him, laughing as fingers dug into Azrael’s neck. Cry as he shoved the boy out and slammed the door in his face again, struggling to catch his breath in his heavy lungs. Cry as he watched the cuts heal, knowing they were the only things he had left. Cry as the smell in his bed faded. Cry as Eley came back, apologizing with pretty words, and even if it felt like a lie, he’d forgive.

I’m tired.

“Don’t leave me!” He’d plead, and Eley would laugh. Laugh as he walked out again, and this time, Azrael couldn’t bear to count.

It had happened too many times.

Most of the time he just wasn’t there.

Most of the time he disappeared without a word.

Could it hurt him to say goodbye, just once?

Tell him maybe, just maybe he’d come back?

So that when Azrael tried to move on with his life, tried to smile genuinely again thinking Eley had really died this time - he didn’t cry to see that the boy was alive. Didn’t laugh at himself knowing Eley would never give him that simple comfort.

That this suffering wouldn’t end, as long as he stayed by Eley’s side. As long as he stayed in the night, looking at the moon, counting the days as they passed achingly slow. 

As a body crawled in beside him, pressed against his back, and he came to forget his pain. As he smiled and wrapped his arms tightly around the boy, afraid to let him go. Afraid that when he opened his eyes he’d be gone again.

Stay with me.

Some days Eley would come, covered in blood. He’d be on the brink of death and that was the only time Azrael showed concern, showed compassion. Ran his hands desperately along the boy’s body as he struggled to keep him alive.

Are you okay? He’d ask, even though he knew it was a stupid question, for both of them.

Yeah. He’d reply, and they both knew that he was a liar.

But, like usual, they didn’t care. They didn’t care as they smiled and dragged themselves to bed again.