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Itrapped sat in his living room in the dark, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. He always did ever since the last bit of hope for his happiness was crushed to pieces. It was now all a meaningless loop. Waking up, eating and…doing nothing.
Sometimes he went to the casino which was now in Sonellinos hands because of him. But rarely. Most of the time he just ended up drinking one glass to mix and breaking down over the bar into tears, or getting thrown out because of something he did.
If he wasn’t at the casino, he stayed in his apartment. All alone, looking for some purpose. And the day passed by extremely slow.
Until sunset.
Itrapped found the darkness comforting, so he never had the habit of turning on the lights when it got dark outside. Instead he just opened the curtains a little more letting the light outside to get in.
So was it this time. The soft moonlight and lights from the city seeped in casting shadows on everything inside the dark living room. And Itrapped…waited. He was tired. But he still waited. He took a drag of the cigarette he barely noticed he was holding, closing his eyes and leaning his head back on the couch.
“Hi Itrapped”
A familiar voice cut through the quiet air. Itrapped lifted his eyelids slightly and stared at the ceiling for a moment, breathing out the smoke from the cigarette. With a soft groan he tilted his head back forward.
A tall figure was standing next to him. Their clothes and skin were dark, the only thing making them visible were the bright glasses as well as frost and ice spikes and patches glistening in the moonlight.
Itrapped looked at them, but didn’t say anything, waiting for the person to continue speaking.
“Not very talkative today are you?” They asked after a comedically long pause, finally moving from their spot and walking around the couch, now standing behind Itrapped. Slowly they leaned down , resting their hands on Itrapped’s shoulders and gently wrapping them around his neck. He could feel their cold breath on his cheek. With a quiet sigh, he tilted his head slightly, searching for the other’s presence. “How are you feeling Itrapped?” The person asked
Itrapped didn’t think long before answering
“I’m good”
His voice came out hoarse and tired, like he cried recently. He didn’t. But he cried so much recently and used his voice so little it just stayed like that.
The person let out a quiet short hum.
“No you’re not”
It made Itrapped’s breath hitch for a moment too long. They sad it so calmly. Like it was nothing. One of their hands brushed over his collarbone, their touch cold as ice.
“Do you love me Itrapped?” They asked with the same tone
Again Itrapped dint move an inch or think too long. “Yes”
The person clicked their tongue and chuckled.
“No Itrapped. You don’t.”
The words made Itrapped take a shaky deep breath. He closed his eyes to try and calmed down to not start crying.
“I am not who I was. Not who you think I am. I am Fool. Not Chance.” They whispered into his ear, leaning back and walking around the couch again. Their heels clicked against the floor as they got closer to Itrapped, finally kneeling in front of him. They tilted their head to the side, while their hands reached for his face, cupping it.
“I’m a better version of myself. I’m something different now. Something greater” they said, forcing him to look at them, to which Itrapped opened his eyes a little “I’m not Chance anymore. Chance is long buried and forgotten–”
“Liar” Itrapped said shakily, but Fool didn’t notice
“–they’re only a relict of the past now. And I’m here. Right now.” They brushed their thumb along Itrapped’s cheekbone “And I know you don’t love me. You despise me”
“I don’t” he whispered, barely holding back tears
“You might think you love me, when in reality…I know Im just a replacement. To fill up a hole you yourself created”
“Stop this. You’re wrong” Itrapped sobbed
“But I’ll let you. I’ll let you live with that despise. Just to be close to you” Fool leaned closer “Because this never changed. I will do anything just to be close to you, Itrapped.”
Itrapped could not form coherent words. He just kept repeating pleas between choked, pathetic sobs. When he didn’t respond, Fool stood up and walked somewhere out of Itrapped’s field of view. Once they did, Itrapped brought his knees to his chest, trembling like a leaf, sobbing and sniffing as tears went down his face. He heard Fool walk somewhere in the apartment, their heels clicking rhythmically while they hummed a tune.
After a few moments they came back to which Itrapped, still sobbing, looked up at them. They were holding a boquet of small pink flowers in a heart-like shape. They stood there with the flowers in hands, looking at Itrapped with anticipation, brushing the edges of the leaves from time to time.
“Wh-at is t-that..?” He asked shakily after a few moments
“Bleeding hearts. Ever heard of it?” They replied simply with that usual soft smile “Quite an unfortunate name. Don’t you think?”
Itrapped’s gaze darted between the flowers and Fool’s gaze, still sniffing from time to time.
“Why did y-you bring i-it here?” He asked shakily “A-and where did you e-even get that..?”
Fool seemed unbothered by his question, like if they didn’t even hear it. Without a word, they started picking the flowers from the stems. “I want to help you Itrapped. To make you feel better.” They said once they had a full hand of the pink flowers, dropping the stems on the floor. “So please…don’t fight it.” Fool added, going up to him
Itrapped furrowed his eyebrows in confusion “What are y-“
Before he could finish, with a sharp motion Fool grabbed Itrapped’s chin and then pushed their thumb into his mouth, forcing it open. Itrapped let out a quiet confused whine before Fool pressed their other hand against his mouth, the flowers falling inside and back to his throat.
Itrapped choked at the flowers at first, his body jerking forward as he tried to cough them out, but Fool’s hand was still pressed against his mouth. “Swallow them” they said calmly. Not quite ordering, but not really asking. Itrapped looked at them for a moment with fright, before closing his eyes slowly and forcing himself to swallow the petals. Once he did, Fool slowly took their hand away, instead cupping his face with it. Their gazes met as the silence stretched. “You’ll feel better soon” they cooed leaning closer.
Itrapped wanted to push them away. They knew what that meant. Every time they appeared, they disappeared after they kissed. And as much as Itrapped hated how quickly he broke near them, he didn’t want them to disappear. Because then he would be alone once again.
But he also longed for their closeness, for the touch of their lips, the touch of their fingers on his face.
So Itrapped let them kiss him. Tears still going down his face, their whole body still trembling, but his hands going up to their neck, one of them tangling in their hair. Every move of his lips against theirs more eager than the one before, his grip on his hair going more desperate, completely relishing in their taste – the iron of blood combined with cold earth and something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. And they responded with the same need and eagerness.
The moment lengthened out, and for a second Itrapped thought that maybe – just maybe – they won’t disappear this time.
As soon as this thought appeared, the sensation disappeared.
Itrapped’s eyes shot open as his fingers relaxed on…nothing. His one hand went up to his mouth, still feeling the cold iron taste.
He felt uneasy from the way it spread over his tongue. Intoxicating. Making him miss the taste immediately.
Suddenly, he felt vomit gather in the back of his throat. And before he could do anything, his body jerked forward, barfing right on his carpet. He coughed a few times, instinctively trying to get rid of the awful substance from his throat, the taste making him want to throw up again even though he didn’t have anything he could get rid of from his stomach.
Wait. What the hell?
Itrapped hasn’t eaten anything probably in days
What did he just spit out…?
He slowly opened his eyes looking at the mess under him. There wasn’t anything unusual. And he was sure he did not drink anything with alcohol.
His mind was dizzy and his whole figure was shaking, his breath heavy and wheezing. He leaned back on the couch, trying to calm down. It only made him realize how tight his throat was for some reason, making his breath whistle and swallowing spit was now almost impossible.
Itrapped thought he might just need some fresh air. He tried to stand up, making his breath quicken from the struggle again. He tried leaning on the glass table in front of him for support.
Slowly, his whole figure shaking and his legs barely dragging him forward, he came up to the balcony window. He leaned against it. He tried swallowing the spit down his throat when he felt it drool out of his mouth weirdly. His eyelids felt heavy as he gripped desperately on the window frame, opening it with struggle to let the fresh air get in.
Itrapped then slowly turned around to sit back again on the couch. He felt himself drooling insanely for some reason but he couldn’t even manage to lift his hand up to get rid of it.
He was barely standing on his legs, trembling like crazy, reaching for the table for support. What was going on with him.
Then he violently threw up again. But this…stuff was different.
More transparent. With some blood.
The fuck…?
With struggle he raised his hand to his mouth, wiping the drool from his mouth.
It was disgusting. Like a foam. Lightly red.
He froze.
With his breaths getting more and more struggled, feeling like he was suffocating, he looked up at the tables content.
Old cigarettes, some papers, a broken glass, an ashtray, empty bottle of wine…
Then he spotted it. A small orange container. It shouldn’t be here.
With last bits of energy, barely able to breathe, he focused on the etiquette plastered onto it.
It read fentanyl.
The last time he remembered, that container was almost full.
He felt tears go down his face again, his head more dizzy. He tried making one more step supporting himself on the table, still shaking.
But he at last lost balance.
Itrapped’s body collapsed forward. His forehead hit against the glass table, breaking it. He felt piercing pain in his temple and forehead, but he wasn’t able to make any sound. Half-conscious, he stated gasping for air, while more bloody foam gathered at his mouth, his body twitching.
Those weren’t flowers, weren’t they?
With that thought he let his eyes close shut. And as his mind slowly shut down, there was only one thing in his mind.
Fool was right.
He felt better now.
He was finally at peace.