Title: Angel

Author: hybridgurl

Rating: PG-13

Category: Drama/Angst

Summary: Emotional scars never heal and letting go is hard, a band member relives memories of all that could have been as he bids his love farewell for the final time…

Disclaimer: Complete and utter fiction.

A/N: This is just a little something I wrote for English class, but being the LP fan fiction obsessive I am, I wrote it with band members in mind lol. No names are mentioned, so it can be about any two you like. Be warned, it’s pretty sad. Reviews are as always appreciated – constructive criticism especially, so let me know if there’s anything I can improve!

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“Angel”

The air was heavy with the silent whispers of the soft autumn night to come. Above, the stars were slowly coming out to play in the painted sky of the sweet September twilight. The purple clouds were like delicate brush strokes on a canvas of orange, pink, blue and the gentle haze of the setting sun. The coarse breeze filtered through the trees in a hoarse hush with a tint of cold, reminding every living thing that summer was truly dying. Fitting, he thought, seeing how it felt like he was too.

It had been six months since he had been here, six long months of trying to get on with life, trying to live, trying to forget. On either side of him the stone angels wept as they bid him welcome to their labyrinth of abandoned souls. He swallowed hard as he placed his hand on the rusting silver gate. He pushed it open with a deep breath, begging his emotions not to take over as they had so many times before.

“Be strong Angel – for me”

He flinched at the memory of that soft voice. So many times it had implored him to be strong, and so many times he had failed. So many times he had run, blinded by his own fears, that he could never be what he needed, what he wanted.

“How can you love me?” He had asked once, unsure of what the answer would be. That perfect face never faltered, never hesitated, just kissed him softly and said: “Because you are everything I’ve ever wished for”

He sighed and looked to the stars, they twinkled back at him in their delicate sparkle. It was so hard to be back, after all this time. He continued down the path, the path that remained burned into his memory forever more, the path that haunted his dreams and screamed suffering in his ears. The last time he had walked it, it had been different. The sun had been high in the clear, sparse blue sky, he remembered thinking how much he would have loved the beach that day. How he would have loved to swim in the crystal blue waters that always did bring out the childish sparkle in his eyes.

The memory of his friends at his back was so real he could have sworn he felt one of their hands on his shoulder now, doing the best they could to comfort, even in the midst of their own tears. They were the only people who really understood what he felt for him. Society frowned on their relationship but his friends never judged, never spoke ill words, never fought with them or told them their relationship was a lie. Instead they accepted it, supported it and were happy they had found each other.

He shivered slightly as a small breeze danced across his bare arms. He closed his eyes willing himself not to go back, but still the memories flooded him and dragged him under. Choking, drowning, considerately killing. The nostalgia that clawed at his heart was too much and the first tear began to fall as he remembered how soft the varnished wood had felt under his touch as they said their last goodbye.

The single lily that was in his hand slipped to the freshly dug soil as his composure failed him and he fell to his knees, his right had firmly gripping the silver cross that adorned the front of the six-foot-something box – six feet of all that could have been. His friends tried to bring him to his feet as the box was lowered into the ground but he couldn’t let go, not after all this time. Not when so many things were left undone, so many words left unspoken. He held onto the silver cross until he felt his fingers start to bleed and the priest knelt beside him and gently guided his hand away from the last real thing left in his life. He never heard the final blessing, the closing prayers, the people who patted him gently on the back and said they were sorry for his troubles and that his friendship could never be replaced.

He laughed bitterly at that thought. Friendship? If only they had known the truth; that they were so much more than friends, that he kept him breathing and the only reason he woke every morning was to see his face, hear his laughter, look into his eyes and grin at his infectious smile. Friendship? What they had was a perfect understanding of each other that went so much further beyond the bands of friendship. What they had was a love so tender it could reduce the strongest person to a sobbing mess, and it had, numerous times. Nothing could ever replace his kisses, his stupid little jokes, the way his eyes would shine when he saw him or the way his brow would slightly crease when he was deep in concentration. Nothing could replace the laughter they shared, like the time he had spilt red paint on his t-shirt when he had insisted on painting him. “To capture hidden beauty,” he had said.

“What you saw I’ll never understand, but it made you smile and that’s all that mattered,” he thought. He was nearly at the bend now – the bend that would lead him to his destination. He paused for a moment and sat on the crisp white wooden bench that stood at the side of the path. It had been painted since his last visit.

This was where he had fled to when the screaming reality had hit him, when the priest rested a hand on his shaking shoulder and told him it was time to leave, that the gravediggers needed to do their work. He had run, forgetting about the single lily that lay discarded in the rich brown earth, his final goodbye that never reached his ears. That lay abandoned by his bedside, a last token of love, so near yet so far, that over the weeks had died and sunk back into the earth; ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

“I love you,” he whispered as he lay beside him.

His mind pleaded with him not to remember that night for his own sake, but it was habit now. He ignored the tears and closed his eyes, wishing silently that he could melt into the memory, that perfect moment, and stay there forever in the sweet half-light of the bedroom with the French windows opened, the curtains swishing softly in the wind, the moonlight illuminating him from behind, framing that perfect face and giving his profile an almost surreal glow. He remembered the way his cheeks were slightly flushed, the way his breath tickled his nose, and those eyes…those beautiful eyes. Dark, like chocolate, but filled with so much light. They reflected everything about him. The eyes are the windows to your soul – the expression was too true in his case.

“I love you too,” he had whispered back quietly, not wanting to break the serenity of the moment. He smiled and placed a hand on his cheek, staring into his eyes, his own filled with an emotion he couldn’t read. “Promise you’ll never leave me Angel” He kissed him then, softly, a delicate brush of lips.

“I promise…” he whispered as like so many times before, the memory fell apart. He got to his feet and took a breath to steady himself as he made his way around the bend.

The cherry blossom was crumbling. Its tiny flowers littered the grass around the tree. Pink, white. Peaceful, pure – untainted by an emotion named hurt. He blinked back the tears as his gaze landed on his earthly bed, his resting place. The cherry blossom swayed gently, it’s leaves caressing each other in a smooth crackle. He made his way slowly to his side, his throat burned and at that moment he wanted to scream forever. Scream “why?” at the top of his lungs and curl up into a tiny ball and die, here, beside him – but tragic lovers were clichéd, and he had never fit the part of dearest Romeo.

Instead he sunk to his knees and with shaking hands traced the gold letters that were his final testament to a world that never really cared. “Speak softly to me, though your words may not touch my ears, but Angel please remember – for you, I’m always here…” The white slab of marble had been a gift from their friends for him – and he knew it was intended for his own comfort too. They weren’t his words exactly, but he knew within that if he were still here he would have said something similar.

His face danced within his mind, and once more the memory of that night surfaced. That angelic face, those tender words, “I love you…”

“Then why did you leave?” Emotion overwhelmed him; the tears fell onto the rich soil of his grave. He cried with the sorrow and pain only the true grief stricken can feel. He cried for him, that deep voice, those soulful eyes, that quick mind, that stunning smile. He cried for the way his heart skipped a beat every time he saw him, the way he stopped breathing when he was gone. He cried for the broken memories of all they shared and the shattered possibilities of all that could have been. The pain stabbed at his heart until it was too much and he couldn’t cry anymore.

The tears ran dry until there was nothing but choked sobs and that awful pain that never ceased, never eased. He raised his eyes to the indigo sky. The moon was slowly rising on her silver throne of stars; they greeted her with a kiss before she disappeared for a split second, hidden by a wayward cloud. But he couldn’t stare at the stars forever. He brought his gaze back to earth, to reality and it was then he saw him.

Standing pretty against the old stone mausoleum, eyes dancing, illuminated by the stars and far off glow of the nearly undectable setting sun. His hair was done in the familiar spiked style he used to always wear, his arms were folded. The familiar smile graced his velvet lips and he nodded. He reluctantly looked down at the single lily in his hand. Beautiful, just like him. He looked at him again. His eyes were glistening with unshed tears but it was clear to him now – he knew what it was he had to do.

He stared at him for one last time, drinking in his image – never wanting to forget. His lips didn’t move, but he heard his soft voice on the gentle breeze that caressed his ear.

“Promise you’ll never leave me Angel…”

With a shaking hand he placed the delicate flower on his grave.

“I promise…”

The moon hung lazily in the sky. When he looked back, he was gone…

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A/N: Just so you all know, for me it was indeed Chaz & Mike – god I was literally crying when I wrote the end lol. Anyway, thanks for reading – now review!