Jamie

He cries quietly, holding me tightly against his chest as the thoughts consume me.

I don't know which thoughts are louder though, the ones telling me to kill myself or the ones telling me not to.

Jump.

Just jump.

It'll be over quickly.

There's nothing left for you here.

He's gone, what you shared is gone. Now you're just another tick on his checklist. Move on before you have the chance to fall for his lies again.

He never loved you.

And now he's gone.

He's gone.

I dig my fingers into his skin, terrified that he may disappear.

He just continues sobbing.

I blink away my blurry vision and inspect his skin with my eyes, praying, hoping, wishing that things were different.

Wishing that he still loved me.

He does love you!

Don't fuck this up, Jamie!

You've fucked up everything else in your life, for God's sake, don't let this one go.

Don't you dare let him go.

God, I don't even know what's real anymore!

Please, just tell me what to believe in!

Tell me what's real!

"Ian," I whisper, my voice coming out broken and desperate.

He glances down at me, his once vibrant green eyes now dull and clouded.

"Y- you... love me?"

He sighs, frustrated.

"Yes, Jamie, I do. I love you so much that it hurts. I- it hurts so b- badly to see you like this, sweetheart," he says quietly, his voice still so soothing despite the tremors.

He brushes my hair from my face and presses his palm to my cheek like he's done so often but now his hands shake unsteadily.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Jamie. I'm mad. I- I'm very angry."

I cringe at the word as the voice speaks up again, spewing his venomous threats.

"But, I'd rather be angry than have you dead," Ian whispers sadly, gazing into my eyes, heartbroken.

"I love you, okay? And that's the truth. And that will always be the truth."

I wrap my arms around his neck and slide my fingers over his familiar skin. He never takes his eyes off me, and I know he isn't lying.

It's so clear from the way that he looks at me that I'm the most important thing to him.

I don't know how exactly I feel about that... but I do know that it makes me all the more guilty for what I've done and what I've so desperately tried to do.

I feel the pangs of guilt melding into the sorrow already cemented in my heart as I tangle my fingertips in his soft black hair and press my body against him.

He just watches me sadly, pulling me closer and closer, his devastated eyes drawing me in.

His hand slides up my thigh, over my hip, tracing the curves he's all too familiar with. I pull him into a kiss, tasting nothing but desperation on his lips.

Our mouths crash into one another, roughly, almost painfully as we give in to each other and give in to our sadness.

He lifts me up easily and lays me gently down on the cold porcelain, pinning my arms above my head as he covers every inch of my skin with impetuous kisses.

He sinks his teeth into my neck, biting down much more roughly than he ever has before as his anger takes over.

"Gah-- Ian," I gasp, cringing at the intoxicating pain.

He slides his hands over my thighs, causing me to shiver instinctively.

I bite my lip as he slides his tongue over the burning skin of my neck, his actions both impulsive and strategic, both terrifying and so soothing.

He digs his fingertips into my thigh, to the point of hurting, while his other hand intertwines it's fingers gently with mine.

He slides up between my knees and licks a trail from my collarbone up the center of my throat in a way that feels so good.

"Ian, f- fuck," I whine, curling my toes as he lifts my knees to his waist.

He leans down over me and kisses me violently, our lips colliding and our tongues melding together messily.

I pant hard, as does he, finding myself tugging on his hair, desperately encouraging his deliciously rough movements.

In this moment, I don't care how many times he's done this, how many girls he's done this with, or who or why or when.

I don't care.

He bites down on my neck again, his teeth so sharp that I'm afraid I might start bleeding.

But even that thought doesn't phase me.

If he can't take the pain away, I want him to give me more.

More.

More till I can't speak.

More till I can't breathe.

Give me more till it all just hurts so bad that nothing could ever fix me.

"Haah-- fuck, more," I gasp, digging my nails into his arm.

"More, Ian. M- more! Haah!"

His fingers slide up to my waist, and I can think of nothing but his hands, and his tongue, and what I want so badly for him to do to me.

"P- please," I beg.

Please, just break me.

He huffs, halting his moments.

His breathing is ragged as he weighs his options.

"Jamie, I'm going to hurt you. I don't want to hurt you," he says, locking eyes with me.

His gaze is fierce.

"I want you to hurt me," I pant.

"No, I- I'm not doing that," he says, taking a breath.

He eyes my bare body, biting his lip hard as he steps back, and I know he wants this just as badly as I do.

"Ian-"

"No, James. I'm not going to hurt you," he says sternly, stepping out of the tub.

I don't push it.

I don't want to argue, not after everything that's happened.

He sighs, frustrated as he ties a towel loosely around his waist.

"I'm sorry-"

"Stop!" he yells, grabbing the door furiously.

I cringe, never having been at the end of his temper before.

"Just stop."

He steps out of the room and slams the door behind him.

------------------

A/n

So dramatic.

Comment and stuff.

<3 Thanks for reading! <3