Burned. (drabble)

!!TW: I don't know if there are any trigger warnings because I'm writing this as I go and it's going to be emotional, I think. I don't know how well I can convey what's in my head.

Song Inspiration: Ghost Town by Benson Boone

He's sitting in the corner, arms locked tightly around himself and he's shivering. He's frightened and his lover knows that.

Lover?

That doesn't sound right.

This isn't his lover.

This isn't the person he poured his all into flinging dishes against the wall above his head and screaming at him. This isn't the person he's always been in love with and made sure to convey that with every chance he's gotten.

He covers his ears and finds himself crying. It grows quiet and, terrified, it takes him a while to look up. When he does, his lover is in tears. He knows why they're doing this. They've had this discussion so many times before and his lover has resorted to this. His lover wants to scare him into leaving since nothing else has worked. His lover knows he isn't happy, not truly. It's not love. It's the desire to be there for one another. They've always been there for one another but this isn't how it was supposed to be. Woven together but not so tightly, not so intricately. There needs to be space and they've forgotten what that means. They've forgotten what love is and have fallen into routine. He's constantly protecting his lover while his lover has been hiding away from him. He's taken to forgetting about himself and he doesn't look like himself anymore.

He's become a shell with tunnel vision.

His lover doesn't recognize him anymore and it hurts. His lover feels like a sponge that has rung him dry and he understand that this isn't right but he won't leave. He keeps making excuses, telling him that it'll be okay and that they can't part. He pulls his lover in each time his lover finds clarity and it's scary how the world around them has gotten to such a desolate point of nothing but shadows, ash, tears and blood. There are broken echos in the dark, a mixed melody of cries for help and sounds of joy and love. It's confusing and in pieces.

It's not right.

He doesn't realize that and he doesn't want to.

He doesn't want to believe his lover is right.

But his lover is going to take every brick out of what they've made until it collapses in on itself.

This shouldn't exist anymore and if he won't set fire to it and walk away, his lover will make him.

His lover would never hurt him though. Not physically.

He smells smoke and realizes that, at some point, he had closed his eyes and covered his ears again. The scent burning his nose and throat finally wins and forces him to open his eyes. They water as smoke fills the air in thick clouds. His lover is nowhere in sight and there's fire everywhere. He chokes, wrapping his arms around himself and crying. He's shivering violently again, digging his nails in his skin as he rocks a bit. He screams his lover's name in choked sobs, his chest aching yet feeling empty at the same time.

"Maybe loving me is the reason you can't love yourself..."

He hears his lover's voice, watery eyes searching the smoke-filled room for the face to make this all go away. He can't find them and he screams for his lover again, tears pouring from his eyes, even more so thanks to the smoke.

"You'd be happier with someone else. I'm so sorry... I'm sorry."

He screams again and he's suddenly being jolted awake, his eyes catching different shapes and faces after a few blinks. There's no smoke but he's still choking and his arms are bleeding in different spots from just how hard his nails had been pressing into his skin.

He knows these arms. They aren't the ones he was looking for. He doesn't understand it but they bring him peace. His shaking slows but his tears don't. He's sobbing and he's now clinging to them. Reality is blurring and turning into one big medley of colors that don't fit where is at the moment. It's messing with his head how he can still smell the smoke that wasn't there a few minutes ago. How his body still feel the heat of a fire that hadn't lit up the room. There's no glass in his hair from broken dishes.

The ache is still in his chest and it feels like his limbs are holding in place with just a few threads. He's weak and, now, he's scared. Of what? He isn't sure but he knows that feeling. It's probably the hurt that has yet to really wash over him. It's going to crush him like it always does. No matter how much he tries to prepare himself for it, he can never prepare himself enough and the more he fights it, the stronger is seems.

The more it fights back.

They lay him down and then press behind him, locking him in their arms. He turns and hides his face into their chest. His fingers can't cling to them hard enough. He's shaking again, a bit more violently than before and it's making it hard for him to breathe. Once he finally does breathe, their scent fills his senses.

This scent isn't smoke.

This warmth isn't fire.

These arms aren't of his lover.

This isn't his nightmare.

This is a heaven his lover always said he deserved but he never believed he would find. His lover knew he would find it. His lover knew he had to cut the ties that bound them to force his freedom.

That's what broke him and still breaks him.

Cutting those ties may have set him free but they were the only thing stopping his lover from slipping away.

The lover that became nothing more than a voice he can't forget, a ghost he can't ever hold again.

A figure lost to the flames of his nightmares only to live as a shadow in the corners of his broken heart.

It's scary to think that there's even a glimpse of light that's begun to light the dark ghost town of his heart. That the ash turns to flowers as it hits the ground now. That things that used to crumble from the slightest touch are being rebuilt in the rays of the sun that have begun to peek through the clouds.

He's scared to lose the memories but it's just as scary being so cold. It feels like he's longing for the sunlight to overwhelm him, something he never considered wanting. The cold was okay as long as he wasn't alone but he'd forgotten the comfort the sun brings.

These arms around him are stripping away the chill resting around his body, the cold that had become like a new skin over his bones. This heartbeat is reminding his own of what a lively rhythm sounds like, instead of the broken record it's used to spinning into the cage of his chest.

His body feels weaker than before but, more than anything, it feels heavy. Sleep is calling to him and, although he doesn't want to fall asleep again, he's too warm not to. He doesn't have the energy to fight it and, as the arms around him tighten, their heartbeat switches to a lullaby that draws his heavy lids to rest.

"I'll still be here when you wake."

Those words make him cry again but he sleeps easier this time around.

A/N: I cried. I'm... Why did this hurt me so much? Anyway. Thank you for reading. I hope that you enjoyed.

PS. I kind of feel like this is tied to the last drabble I posted. My brain kept making San the main one in this one. I don't know who his past lover is or the one holding him but it just... it feels right that it's tied to that character.