Work Text:
a million times you’ve said goodbye.
homes, friends, lovers.
each time you die a little more,
your breaking point is well behind you…
one more hit
one tiny point past breaking and maybe…
just maybe you wouldn’t have to exist.
maybe you’ve just scraped by enough,
enough where there would be a small glimpse of them.
what color were her eyes…
violet? or gray?
what kind of a father are you to forget.
Hands shaking Leon reached for another needle, whatever the outcome he wouldn’t feel so guilty for however long it lasted. He hoped it was the sweetest embrace of silence, no more pretending. None of that damn running, he would remember her eyes… the soft laugh, the feel of Cora behind him. The sight of his mother smiling. There was none of the usual wincing as he pressed the needle into his forearm. As soon as it made contact he relaxed, leaning into the cold pillow the smallest of smiles appeared on his features for the first time in years. Death. He could handle meeting his father like this, half dead, no regrets, peaceful. The overwhelming sense of relief lulled over him, pulling him well past what he was used to. Heroin cut with whatever was cheapest, his tenth hit of the night. Leon preferred time stop at five.
Would Illy be mad at him…? Cora would, her face was fuzzy but he could remember that tone… his mother… all he remembered was her eyes. Rainbows of emotion… closing his eyes he took one last look at his phone. Eyes heavy as he stared at the unfamiliar yet oddly familiar faces. No one, he had no one. It had been years, no one would remember him.
As it should be.