TW: Blood mention, Knife mention, Violence, Death, Angst

Click! Trott heard the familiar twist of the lock on the door and he knew Smith was home. Alex opened the door, looking extremely disheveled and groggy

"I was looking for you" Trott said coldly, standing up from the sofa and turning to face Alex who now stood leaning against the wall by the door.

"I was out drinkin mate with some friends. What the fuck do you want now?" Alex replied in the same harsh tone.

"I can't handle this anymore. You're always coming home late and drunk and then you take it all out on me. I don't deserve you." Trott stated, clenching his fist to try and hold back his anger.

"You...don't deserve me? Oh really. You couldn't get another boyfriend if you tried. I deserve far better than you all you ever do is fucking complain about my drinking and my anger issues and I honestly couldn't give a shit about you anymore. I couldn't give a shit if you died." Alex spat, each word piercing Chris' heart like a dagger.

"You don't really fucking mean that. We're finished. It's over" Trott trembled, his eyes brimming with tears. Although he disliked Alex's ways, a part of him still loved him, a part of him found it hard to let go of everything they had and could've had.

Alex stumbled to the kitchen and rested his elbows on the worktop, facing away from Chris. Taking a deep breath, he opened the drawer slowly and ran his fingers across all the utensils.

"Wha--wha---what are you doing.." Trott said tentatively, taking a small, noticeable step backwards.

Alex stroked one of the kitchen knifes in the drawer and curled his fingers around the handle, keeping a firm grip on it in his right hand, shutting the drawer behind him. When he turned round, Trott was very, very afraid. He'd seen Alex mad before, but never like this. His breathing became shallow as death stared at him.

"Alex. Put the fucking knife down, you're fucking scaring me. You're not really going to use it."

"Oh but I am. I've had enough of you, Chris Trott. I promise you you're passing is going to be quick. Nobody is going to miss you, in fact, nobody is going to know you've ever left.." His words floated into the air and wrapped chains around Chris, bolting him to the floor.

Trott stood there frozen, as Alex locked the door. He was trapped.

"A-A-Alex, p-please. Don't do this. Let me out the fucking flat or I'm calling the police."

"I have better ideas tonight." Alex walked towards Trott slowly, the knife pointing towards Chris' heart. "Why don't we play a little game called death?"

"YOU'RE FUCKING INSANE. GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FLAT!" Trott screamed, hoping someone out there would hear him. Alex gave him a twisted smile and ignored his orders, and continued.

"You know, I don't think I ever actually loved you Chris, sure, you're a nice guy and all, but you're a little bit too... lively for my liking.." Chis was mortified, a complete stranger now stood in front of him instead of the Alex Smith he once loved. Chris felt his back touch the wall, there was no escape now. Alex was gaining on him, now standing only a few steps away from him. Trott closed his eyes, not wanting to see the pleasure that he would give Smith from his death.

Alex closed in on him, the knife was held to Chris' throat. Chris scrunched up his eyes, hoping it would all be over soon.

"Fuck... you..." Chris mumbled, as Alex grabbed a handful of Chris shirt. Taking away the knife from his throat, he ran it down Chris' arm instead. A loud yelp was heard as Chris writhed in pain, his smooth skin was slowly being torn open with the blade, crimson blood ran down his arm and dripped onto the floor.

"What was that? Sorry, I couldn't hear you mate." Alex taunted, placing the now bloodied knife back to Chris throat again. A solitary tear ran down Trott's face. He never asked for any of this.

Click! Ross burst into the flat, seething that Alex could do something like this. That's when he saw the body.

Chris was lying on the floor, his eyes closed, his body, limp and lifeless. Warm blood had pooled around his neck.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO ALEX!" Ross screamed, fighting back the tears.

"You were too late Ross. There's no saving him now. He's gone. The last thing he told me was how much he detested you." Alex retorted, giving him an evil smirk as he dropped the knife on the floor and walked out of the apartment.

Ross ran to Chris' body and cradled his body in his arms, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't be gone. He refused to believe he had lost his best friend.

What if he had left 2 minutes earlier?

What if he had stayed with him for the rest of the day?

What if?

Chris wouldn't be dead.

Ross wouldn't be heartbroken.

Alex would still be a fucking prick.

But nothing could have ever prepared him for this.

Nothing.

Credit to Zozaaaa on Ao3