Pain
*Copyright: * This story is a work of fiction and is my own property. Any use, in part or in whole, elsewhere is prohibited except by my written permission. Any similarity to others, living or fiction, is coincidental.
Warning: While "Clean," this story does contain some references to nudity and sexual acts. Read at your own discretion. I take no responsibility for the viewing of this content.
Author's Notes: Well, after a mild sabbatical, I'm finally back with something completely different. This is actually a tragic story. You've been warned, so please don't complain when you read it and don't like it.
Pain
Chris stepped into his apartment and shut the door behind him. He fell back, letting the space fall into an eerie silence. Silent like the grave.
He gave himself a mental kick for his choice of words.
His paw came up and pulled away the tie hanging lightly at his neck while he walked through the living space. Light peaked in through gaps in the curtains. They'd been closed for days, ever since it happened. He stopped and looked at them. It was almost noon; he should open them. But a part of him wanted the space to match what he felt inside: dark, alone, sad.
He came to the bedroom door and stopped. It took a few seconds of building up courage before he pushed it open. Inside, lining the walls and dressers were pictures of him and Marcus.
For a minute, he stood in the room, turning slowly to look at each one. A daze that had hung over him, one that had persisted through the days and through the service suddenly seemed to lift, and the true realization crashed into him like a sledgehammer. His mate was gone.
Tears instantly swelled in his eyes and he staggered back to fall against the bed, where his face met his palms. It came out as one long, hoarse cry of anger, rage, pity, remorse, and the deep-cut pain of loss.
He didn't know how long he sat there, weeping. He only knew that he'd run out of tears. His eyes came back up to look at the photos again. Him and Marcus at the boardwalk, smiling in front of the ocean. The two of them sharing a piece of cake on their anniversary. He stood up and went to a picture of Marcus lounging on the bed. With a careful, practiced gesture, he used a claw to push a hidden button on the back and the entire photo turned in its frame, revealing a hidden photo. It was of Marcus in the same pose as the other, but completely naked.
Chris took extra care gazing over this one. The wolf was well-toned, with perfectly sculpted fur around his abs and sheath. So often he'd looked upon his mate with care and love... Now there was only a desire to hold him that could never again be satisfied.
Who was he to turn to? The one he'd always run to was Marcus. If ever he'd hurt, or been angry, from anything, Marcus had always been the one to take him in his arms and soothe him. He'd say something like, "It's okay, Chris. It's okay to feel this way."
Tears welled up in his eyes again and he looked down. "I don't want to hurt, Marcus. I don't want to be alone. I need you."
"This will pass, love," he would say back. "You have to be strong and put it behind you."
His whimpering stopped. "How? We were mates! This isn't going to just pass!" he screamed verbally.
"I know. And I'll miss you too. But you can't let this sort of thing keep you down or back. Don't let the past keep you from your future."
He wanted to cry again, to scream and howl, but he couldn't. Even in death, his mate's overwhelming calm settled into his bones. "Marcus..."
There was no reply this time. Once again, he found himself alone in his home.
His finger pushed the button on the frame again, returning the picture to the one of him clothed, and he set it back on the dresser. As much as Chris hated to admit it, Marcus was right.
He walked back out to the living room, and a ray of light struck his eye through the curtain, making him stop and contemplate it.
The pain would fade. Not die, but it would fade.
With a heavy sigh, he stepped to the curtains and threw them open.
*Author's Note: * Short, yes, but I don't care. I wanted a simple display of emotion. Consider this a test. How did I do? Was it a good demonstration of pain and agony? Please, let me know your thoughts.