When I found you, the floor had already gotten slippery from your blood.

The knife you'd used was lying on the floor, the red blood shimmering morbidly in the harsh bath room lights.

You were on the floor, back leaning against the wall. The ends of your long sleeves were so soaked, they were black. Your eyes were closed but I could still see your chest going up and down the tiniest bit.

You were still there.

You hadn't left me yet.

I fell to the floor, scrambling to reach you, grabbing your arms. I tried to get your sleeves off your wrists; they were sticking to your skin because of the blood that was still flowing out of you.

You winced and opened your eyes at the touch. Your beautiful, sea blue eyes. The eyes I had looked into so many times, studying the shades of blue, the flecks of purple swimming in an ocean of blue, blue, blue.

It was the last time I'd see them.

"Keith."

A slight smile crept on your face.

"It's good," you breathed heavily, your whole body shuddering, before continuing. "to see you one last time. Makes it easier to go, y'know?" You let out a breathy laugh.

I couldn't bring out more than a "why?" through my tears.

I got your sleeves of your wrists, showing me the thing that would haunt my dreams the rest of my - very short - life.

Multiple cuts slashed through your once so smooth skin. Blood gushed out of them, a seemingly neverending flow.

Your wedding ring, the one we'd exchanged so many years ago, was red instead of gold now, shining sadistically, as if it was trying to cruelly remind me of that day. The day we'd exchanged our vows: "until death may us part". That seemed scarily soon now.

Tears formed in my eyes and I asked "why?" again.

"Why, you ask," You gave me a sad smile that dulled my heart. "I wonder too. I guess I just couldn't take it anymore." You shrugged. "Dark thoughts creeping up on me, the knife looked really inviting, y'know, the usual. Would've been easier if it had gotten over with before you came home, though." You had a pained expression on your face. "I didn't want you to see me like this while I was still conscious. That would've been better for the both of us."

I started screaming. "Why didn't you tell me! Why couldn't you let me help you! Why are you doing this! Why are you leaving me alone!" I broke down in a sob, letting my head fall on your chest, soaking your already bloody shirt with my tears.

I suddenly jolted up and started rummaging through my pockets and grabbed my phone, almost dropping it on the floor in my haste, and dialed 911.

Before I could press the call button you grabbed my wrist to refrain me from clicking.

"Keith, no. It's gonna be over real soon. It's better this way. This way you won't have to deal with me anymore." Your voice was soft, endearing, like you'd just confessed your love, instead of telling me I had to let you bleed to death.

I yanked my wrist out of your hand briskly. You yelped and I silently apologised. "No way am I letting you die! You hear me, McClain? You hear me? You promised you'd stop doing this! You promised!"

You couldn't bring out a word, just stared at me sadly.

I pressed the call button. "911, what is your emergency?"

"My husband is bleeding to death on the bath room floor! His wrists are cut!" I quickly spit out the information about our location before adding a "hurry!" and hung up.

I looked back at you, my sight blurry. I yanked my shirt off and pressed it onto your wounds in an attempt to make the bleeding stop.

It got soaked in just a matter of time. The white fabric became red and stained my hands.

Your blood was on my hands.

Why couldn't I tell something was off this morning? Why couldn't I tell something was wrong when you kissed me goodbye when I left for work, pulled me into a tighter hug than normal, like you were saying farewell?

Why couldn't I tell your dark thoughts had come back again, poisoning your mind? Why couldn't I tell you were being eaten from the inside, drowning in sorrow?

Why couldn't I tell a thing, leaving you to deal with it on your own? Why couldn't I tell you were planning to take the knife, cut open your wrists, watch the blood seep out of your body? Why couldn't I tell you were so miserable you decided to take your own life?

Why couldn't I tell?

And now you were here in my arms, bleeding to death, and I couldn't do anything about it.

I prayed to every godly being they'd be here on time. Without you, I couldn't survive. You were my love, my life, my everything.

I couldn't lose you.

I prayed the paramedics would be here soon.

~

They were too late.

You had already been too far gone. The blood loss had been fatal. You died in my arms, on the tiles of the bath room floor.

"Keith," you said. "I'm-"

I shushed you. "No. Don't. Don't apologise. This is all my fault. I'm sorry, Lance." I sobbed. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." The tears kept coming, threatening to suffocate me. I couldn't bring out any more words.

"Hey," You brushed my hair out of my face gently. "It's okay. It's okay. No one could've saved me. It's okay. I'm here."

I let out a stifled laugh. "Kinda funny that you're the one comforting me, seeing you're the one dying over here."

You kissed me softly. "I love you, Keith. Always remember that."

"I-I love you too." I was choking on my tears by now. "Don't go." I whispered.

'I'm sorry." you breathed. "I'm sorry."

You eyes fluttered shut. Your chest stopped moving and you let out your final breath.

"Lance, my love, I'm so sorry. I couldn't save you."

You drifted away.

~

I fucking love angst

Word count: 1044