Thursday, July 22, 2004
Bert's eyes began to water again as he stared at the grave that had his lover buried six feet under. Branden touched Bert's left shoulder lightly, silently telling him that it'd be okay. But how could things be okay? Quinn was gone. His Quinn. Gone. Dead. Never coming back. That last kiss they shared as Quinn took his last breath, Bert couldn't forget the taste of that kiss. A mixture of blood, salty tears and just...a taste of love. A tear strolled down Bert's cheek. He wiped it away. He wanted to be strong. Strong for Quinn. Bert wasn't one to self-mutilate, he thought those things were stupid. He believed in living life to its fullest. He was living his life to the fullest until some stupid punks decided to rob a grocery store while he and Quinn were in it and decided to plant a bullet in Quinn's head, he had nothing to live for now.
Branden nudged his shoulder again. "We have to go now, Bert." He said softly to Bert as if he was a child that had just gone through a traumatic experience. Bert nodded as he looked at Quinn's tombstone one last time. Telling himself mentally that Quinn was now in a better place, he walked away, following Branden closely behind. The others already went back, Branden waited for Bert because he knew in the state Bert was in, he was in no state to drive.
They drove silently in the car. Bert was staring out the window. His thoughts drifted him back to that tragic day. They were fighting over something stupid, it started as a joke and Quinn, being the sensitive guy that he was, got all offended. Quinn was telling Bert to fuck off, flipping him off as the bus came to a stop. Bert closed his eyes as he remembered calling out to Quinn and saying that he was sorry and Quinn had that "just-fuck-off-for-a-while" look on his face as Quinn made his way to the front of the bus. Their bus stopped at the grocery store, the place that claimed Quinn's life. Quinn stepped out of the bus and went directly to the grocery store, hands shoved in his navy blue hoodie. Bert followed from behind, shouting a string of apologies which Quinn ignored. And he said it, "Stop acting like a fucking fag, Quinn". And that hurt look on Quinn's eyes just made Bert realized that he said something that he shouldn't have said. Tears were threatening to fall again. Those eyes, he'd give anything to see those brown eyes breathe life again. Quinn walked faster to the grocery store, pushed open the door with rage. Bert followed from behind, back to apologosing again. Quinn went to the far end of the store and just blindly took things from the shelves, turning his back to Bert everytime Bert stood in front of him, trying to get his attention. Then, the door swung open and then the shouts. The both of them walked to the front of the store and then they were those two stupid kids, head covered with those stretchable socks. And that gun. Those kids and that gun. Bert hated them. If you want to rob a store, at least have a fucking plan or know how to use a fucking gun. It all happened so fast, Quinn moved forward trying to stop whatever the hell they were trying to stage. The kids fighting over the gun and that gunshot that ended everything Bert lived for. Quinn's head gushing off blood, Bert catching him as he fell to Bert's arms. And everybody in the fucking bus didn't even bother to check. Bert knew he couldn't blame them. Quinn's eyes struggling to open, Bert watching the two kids run off, screaming at the cashier to call the ambulance. Bert looking at Quinn and he was a stuttering mess, crying while holding Quinn's head on his lap. He kept saying he was sorry, he didn't mean any of the things he said, that he loves Quinn. Quinn staring back, moving his mouth so slowly. "Kiss me" he had said. Bert didn't hesitate, they kissed. He felt Quinn's tongue moving weakly against his. He felt Quinn's blood in that kiss, he felt his own tears and he felt their love and he felt Quinn letting go. The others came the same time as the ambulance did, brought Quinn to the hospital, nothing, the doctor came and told them Quinn couldn't be saved. Bert just sat there, numb, wishing he could just die with Quinn. It scared the others to see Quinn so stiff, so....dead. His hands were cold and the bullet wound on his head didn't help make it better. The car stopped in front of their house. The house where Bert and Quinn used to live in. Now, it was just a space that held suitcases of memories. Bert was thinking of selling it already.
"Come on, Bert. Let's get inside" Branden said as he switched off the engine on one hand and opened the door in the other.
FUCKING HELL. I HAVE TO GO. I WILL CONTINUE THIS TOMORROW. (02:01AM 23/7)
Envy drowned in words at 06:17
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