08-13-2018, 04:27 PM
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finneus dominic coleman
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[div style="height: 217px; width: 265px; padding: 0px; font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; color: #4F4F4F; line-height: 118%; text-align: justify; text-transform: lowercase"][b]tw mentions of abuse. suicide. drug use.
word count 1683
aching. sore. chills. pain. pain. pain. pain.
that was all the hazel-eyed boy felt as of late. it was overwhelming, it was debilitating. he rarely left his bed. his skin seemed paper thing, the muscles he once had were gone. the strong boy had been replaced by one who was skin and bones about to be blown away by the smallest gust of wind. without a shirt, you could count all his ribs. his fingers and arms seemed frail, like twigs about to snap in half. he looked sickly, it was evident. and in a way, he was. withdrawing from a drug you'd been taking for three years did that to a person.
his face was often red from crying or blank from the overwhelming emotions hitting him all at once. it made him sick to his stomach and countless times he was in the bathroom, leaned over the toilet, throwing up what was in his stomach. it was rarely food, mostly stomach bile that made his throat burn. his eyes would well up with tears and he'd cry until all his tears were spent.
of course, he had his taller, curly-haired companion and lover by his side but he pushed him away, paranoid that his lover would give up on him. that's how he ended up in the hospital last month. he thought the world was better without him, that the man he loved would be better without him. he swallowed as many pills as he possibly could. his plan had been foiled by the other who had forced him to throw the pills back up by sticking his fingers down his throat ( a rather unpleasant task and feeling ) before calling 911.
he remembered waking up in the hospital to the sound of soft cries, his cries. it took a few minutes for him to look over and he felt his chest tighten, knowing that he was going to be left a lone. a breakup was inevitable like the last two times. he deserved it though, he wasn't worthy of the other's love and caring nature, how he nurtured him and was doing his best to get him through the withdrawal.
and he finally looked at him.
"you're okay. thank god."
there were tears streaming down his face. he placed gentle kisses to his hands and held onto it tightly. the hazel-eyed boy felt his chest tighten but he couldn't speak, his mouth couldn't form words, his vocal chords refusing to vibrate.
"finn, you scared me..." pause, "i thought i lost you."
surprisingly, he stayed and finn had a brief time of relief but it lasted all of a week before he felt the emotions overcome him again. that's why he was on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, tears slipping silently down his cheeks. the other was somewhere else in the tiny apartment but finn didn't care. he was too in his own mind to focus on the whereabouts of his boyfriend. for all finn knew, he could be packing his bags and about to come out and breakup with him.
he heard the soft scratching of a chair being moved across the wooden floor boards and finn covered his ears, hating the sound of it against his eardrums. but a soft pair of hands took finn's shaking ones in his own and he flinched, startled by the sudden physical contact which resulted in gentle kisses against them.
"hey, it's just me. it's chris."
finn opened his eyes, a few more tears falling as he looked up at chris and slowly nodded. he studied the features of his face. he had the most gorgeous brown eyes and a splash of freckles across the bridge of his nose that seemed to form constellations. the same ones that finn sometimes counted when he was having a panic attack. followed by telling things he knew about chris, slowly being reeled back into the world again. the flashback would pass soon after.
but his eyes wandered away from his face and saw the familiar guitar beside the chair. many times, chris played for finn and sang too, when finn was up for that. mostly, he just wanted to listen to the soft chords. it had been maybe a year since finn had touched his piano but sometimes chris would play him something on it. music was a big part of their lives. before this whole debacle, they played together and sang along to the radio. they'd hum tunes while doing homework or while chris cooked and finn attempted ( and failed miserably ) to help. it had become an outlet for them.
"i thought i'd play you something that i've been working on, if that's alright with you of course"
that was a familiar theme, chris asking if it was okay if he did something, probably for fear of accidentally triggering a panic attack like he had done one time when he touched finn's neck. it wasn't chris's fault though, finn hadn't explained boundaries or what was and wasn't okay. he knows he should but he can't seem to write it down. he'd probably start crying.
[b]"yeah, that's alright."
his voice was quiet and hoarse, as if he hadn't used it in years. in reality, it was from the crying. from the nights when he laid in bed, sobbing as a depressive mood swing overwhelmed him. chris held him close those nights, just letting him cry. he never judged him for how he felt, never once said he shouldn't feel a certain way. sometimes, finn would softly rub his arms or back and other times he would softly rock him back and forth in an attempt to make him feel safe.
a few silent moments passed before the familiar sound of the guitar filled the small room. petunia and toffee and come out of the bedroom at the sound of it, the little corgi sitting by the the chair and the bloodhound laying on the couch by finn's feet.
"'cause underneath the darkness, there's a light that's trying so hard to be seen"
he closed his eyes, focusing on the guitar, pushing away his own troubling thoughts. just the first line made finn tear up. hearing that, finn knew that he would probably be sobbing by the end. he focused so much on the lyrics, letting them resonate, realizing that this wasn't just one of the little drabbles chris did. no, it was about him. it was about him. and that only made him hurt so much worse, so much worse.
"you keep on telling me i'm wasting time, but to call it wasting time, oh, that's a crime"
that's what chris didn't understand, it was a waste of time. finn would never completely be better. he'd never be who he was. he wouldn't be that confident person he had met at the party. that was never who finn was, that's what the drugs made him. finn had never been confident. he was broken, broken beyond repair. no amount of trying to put him back together would ever change that, ever.
"and if this is what it takes, let me be the one to bear the pain. and if this is what it takes, i'll break down these walls that are in our way"
finn started crying more visibly, hearing chris's voice break a little when he sang that. his heart started to pound and his hands balled up in fists, nails digging into his skin. chris didn't deserve to feel like he had to continuously protect him from the pain. he was dealing with so much that it made guilt eat away at his stomach. finn knew he shouldn't be chris's priority. chris should be dealing with his own issues.
but that would never happen.
"and if you don't understand yet, then i'll never let you forget that you don't have to do this on your own. i'll be your shoulder to lean, i'll be your right when you feel wrong. so, come on take my hand —"
chris had stopped, hearing choked up sobs echoing from finn. the broken boy couldn't hold them in anymore, he had to let it all out. he hadn't even noticed that chris had tears in his eyes too. finn buried his face in the pillow he was laying on and petunia was already up to see what was wrong with her boy.
it was maybe half a second later when he felt strong arms wrap around him, a calm but shaky voice softly shushing him. gentle fingers carded through his hair, trying to soothe him and his sobs. it did little to help, finn just kept crying and crying and crying. he had sat up enough to wrap his arms around chris as tightly as he could, burying his face in his neck, the tears dropping onto the other's shirt, the blood from digging his nails into his hands also staining chris's shirt.
he felt a hand gently rub circles on his back, a soft pair of lips pressing delicate kisses to his hair, just holding him close. finn could feel the uneven up and down of chris's chest, evident that he was still crying.
"i wish you didn't have to go through this, finn. i hate seeing you in so much pain. it hurts. but, i know, we're gonna get through this, you're gonna get through this. i'm so proud of you. i know it's overwhelming but you keep fighting and i couldn't be prouder."
finn couldn't respond, his sobs just grew louder and louder while chris just continued to rub his back and kiss his head. and, at some point, finn felt strong arms pick him up as if he weighed no more than a feather and carried him to the bedroom and gently lay him down. a familiar dip in the bed made him open his eyes and there was chris. he felt a soft kiss on his forehead before a warm blanket was pulled over the two of them, but finn still curled up against his chest.
"i love you finneus, i love you so much."
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word count 1683
aching. sore. chills. pain. pain. pain. pain.
that was all the hazel-eyed boy felt as of late. it was overwhelming, it was debilitating. he rarely left his bed. his skin seemed paper thing, the muscles he once had were gone. the strong boy had been replaced by one who was skin and bones about to be blown away by the smallest gust of wind. without a shirt, you could count all his ribs. his fingers and arms seemed frail, like twigs about to snap in half. he looked sickly, it was evident. and in a way, he was. withdrawing from a drug you'd been taking for three years did that to a person.
his face was often red from crying or blank from the overwhelming emotions hitting him all at once. it made him sick to his stomach and countless times he was in the bathroom, leaned over the toilet, throwing up what was in his stomach. it was rarely food, mostly stomach bile that made his throat burn. his eyes would well up with tears and he'd cry until all his tears were spent.
of course, he had his taller, curly-haired companion and lover by his side but he pushed him away, paranoid that his lover would give up on him. that's how he ended up in the hospital last month. he thought the world was better without him, that the man he loved would be better without him. he swallowed as many pills as he possibly could. his plan had been foiled by the other who had forced him to throw the pills back up by sticking his fingers down his throat ( a rather unpleasant task and feeling ) before calling 911.
he remembered waking up in the hospital to the sound of soft cries, his cries. it took a few minutes for him to look over and he felt his chest tighten, knowing that he was going to be left a lone. a breakup was inevitable like the last two times. he deserved it though, he wasn't worthy of the other's love and caring nature, how he nurtured him and was doing his best to get him through the withdrawal.
and he finally looked at him.
"you're okay. thank god."
there were tears streaming down his face. he placed gentle kisses to his hands and held onto it tightly. the hazel-eyed boy felt his chest tighten but he couldn't speak, his mouth couldn't form words, his vocal chords refusing to vibrate.
"finn, you scared me..." pause, "i thought i lost you."
surprisingly, he stayed and finn had a brief time of relief but it lasted all of a week before he felt the emotions overcome him again. that's why he was on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, tears slipping silently down his cheeks. the other was somewhere else in the tiny apartment but finn didn't care. he was too in his own mind to focus on the whereabouts of his boyfriend. for all finn knew, he could be packing his bags and about to come out and breakup with him.
he heard the soft scratching of a chair being moved across the wooden floor boards and finn covered his ears, hating the sound of it against his eardrums. but a soft pair of hands took finn's shaking ones in his own and he flinched, startled by the sudden physical contact which resulted in gentle kisses against them.
"hey, it's just me. it's chris."
finn opened his eyes, a few more tears falling as he looked up at chris and slowly nodded. he studied the features of his face. he had the most gorgeous brown eyes and a splash of freckles across the bridge of his nose that seemed to form constellations. the same ones that finn sometimes counted when he was having a panic attack. followed by telling things he knew about chris, slowly being reeled back into the world again. the flashback would pass soon after.
but his eyes wandered away from his face and saw the familiar guitar beside the chair. many times, chris played for finn and sang too, when finn was up for that. mostly, he just wanted to listen to the soft chords. it had been maybe a year since finn had touched his piano but sometimes chris would play him something on it. music was a big part of their lives. before this whole debacle, they played together and sang along to the radio. they'd hum tunes while doing homework or while chris cooked and finn attempted ( and failed miserably ) to help. it had become an outlet for them.
"i thought i'd play you something that i've been working on, if that's alright with you of course"
that was a familiar theme, chris asking if it was okay if he did something, probably for fear of accidentally triggering a panic attack like he had done one time when he touched finn's neck. it wasn't chris's fault though, finn hadn't explained boundaries or what was and wasn't okay. he knows he should but he can't seem to write it down. he'd probably start crying.
[b]"yeah, that's alright."
his voice was quiet and hoarse, as if he hadn't used it in years. in reality, it was from the crying. from the nights when he laid in bed, sobbing as a depressive mood swing overwhelmed him. chris held him close those nights, just letting him cry. he never judged him for how he felt, never once said he shouldn't feel a certain way. sometimes, finn would softly rub his arms or back and other times he would softly rock him back and forth in an attempt to make him feel safe.
a few silent moments passed before the familiar sound of the guitar filled the small room. petunia and toffee and come out of the bedroom at the sound of it, the little corgi sitting by the the chair and the bloodhound laying on the couch by finn's feet.
"'cause underneath the darkness, there's a light that's trying so hard to be seen"
he closed his eyes, focusing on the guitar, pushing away his own troubling thoughts. just the first line made finn tear up. hearing that, finn knew that he would probably be sobbing by the end. he focused so much on the lyrics, letting them resonate, realizing that this wasn't just one of the little drabbles chris did. no, it was about him. it was about him. and that only made him hurt so much worse, so much worse.
"you keep on telling me i'm wasting time, but to call it wasting time, oh, that's a crime"
that's what chris didn't understand, it was a waste of time. finn would never completely be better. he'd never be who he was. he wouldn't be that confident person he had met at the party. that was never who finn was, that's what the drugs made him. finn had never been confident. he was broken, broken beyond repair. no amount of trying to put him back together would ever change that, ever.
"and if this is what it takes, let me be the one to bear the pain. and if this is what it takes, i'll break down these walls that are in our way"
finn started crying more visibly, hearing chris's voice break a little when he sang that. his heart started to pound and his hands balled up in fists, nails digging into his skin. chris didn't deserve to feel like he had to continuously protect him from the pain. he was dealing with so much that it made guilt eat away at his stomach. finn knew he shouldn't be chris's priority. chris should be dealing with his own issues.
but that would never happen.
"and if you don't understand yet, then i'll never let you forget that you don't have to do this on your own. i'll be your shoulder to lean, i'll be your right when you feel wrong. so, come on take my hand —"
chris had stopped, hearing choked up sobs echoing from finn. the broken boy couldn't hold them in anymore, he had to let it all out. he hadn't even noticed that chris had tears in his eyes too. finn buried his face in the pillow he was laying on and petunia was already up to see what was wrong with her boy.
it was maybe half a second later when he felt strong arms wrap around him, a calm but shaky voice softly shushing him. gentle fingers carded through his hair, trying to soothe him and his sobs. it did little to help, finn just kept crying and crying and crying. he had sat up enough to wrap his arms around chris as tightly as he could, burying his face in his neck, the tears dropping onto the other's shirt, the blood from digging his nails into his hands also staining chris's shirt.
he felt a hand gently rub circles on his back, a soft pair of lips pressing delicate kisses to his hair, just holding him close. finn could feel the uneven up and down of chris's chest, evident that he was still crying.
"i wish you didn't have to go through this, finn. i hate seeing you in so much pain. it hurts. but, i know, we're gonna get through this, you're gonna get through this. i'm so proud of you. i know it's overwhelming but you keep fighting and i couldn't be prouder."
finn couldn't respond, his sobs just grew louder and louder while chris just continued to rub his back and kiss his head. and, at some point, finn felt strong arms pick him up as if he weighed no more than a feather and carried him to the bedroom and gently lay him down. a familiar dip in the bed made him open his eyes and there was chris. he felt a soft kiss on his forehead before a warm blanket was pulled over the two of them, but finn still curled up against his chest.
"i love you finneus, i love you so much."
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[align=center][div style="font-size:14pt; font-family: georgia; color: #29181C;"]i told myself that i wouldn't be scared
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but i'm still having nightmares [color=#29181C]characters | trashcan