‹ Prequel: Love the Way
Death Touch
To Your Grave I Spoke
A single rose lay on the grave taunting him ironically with the fact that the murderer continually returned to place a rose on the grave of someone who should have still been laughing and dancing and kissing.
A growl tore up his throat at the last thought. No, never kissing. He had belonged to David. As much as he would have liked to say that he was a strong enough man to have let the boy go, the fact that his love was in the ground was proof enough that that could never have been the case.
"I'm not sorry," he whispered to the grave. "I won't do that to you. I won't regret what I've done." He could feel the wind stir around him and closed his eyes almost imagining that he could hear his name being whispered from somewhere beyond.
Shaking his head, David forced himself to stand. Such silly dreams would do him no good. He couldn't live in such a world. It would only get him killed and that was something he couldn't do. If he got himself killed that made Thomas's death worth nothing. He was better than that, stronger than that.
He no one left to live for and it gave him all the more reason to fight. Allowing the wind to whip around him, he tipped his hat to the grave at his feet before he dared turn away. He may have killed his lover, but he still had more respect for the boy than anyone else he had known in his life.
After all, Thomas had died with a smile. Not many people could say that. Especially when they had been killed at the hands of the person who had forever vowed to love them. Few could have had the courage to simply look away and allow their lover to do what had to be done. Fewer lovers could have walked away without turning the trigger to himself. It hadn't made David better than any of those, but it had made him harder, colder.
It had made him deadlier.
His phone rang as he closed the wrought-iron gate of the cemetery. Checking the number his lip curled in repugnance before he answered with a single curt word.
"Good, you're already there," the voice on the other end of the line congratulated. "An apartment has been procured for you as well as an identification which will be waiting for you at the drop. We'll be in touch." A normal man would have flung the phone against the nearest wall. David didn't have such a luxury even when provoked. The only thing he could do was remind himself that one day he would find that voice.
One day it would die too. Only that voice wouldn't be smiling as Thomas had. That voice would beg for mercy. Such dreams were sweet indeed.
A growl tore up his throat at the last thought. No, never kissing. He had belonged to David. As much as he would have liked to say that he was a strong enough man to have let the boy go, the fact that his love was in the ground was proof enough that that could never have been the case.
"I'm not sorry," he whispered to the grave. "I won't do that to you. I won't regret what I've done." He could feel the wind stir around him and closed his eyes almost imagining that he could hear his name being whispered from somewhere beyond.
Shaking his head, David forced himself to stand. Such silly dreams would do him no good. He couldn't live in such a world. It would only get him killed and that was something he couldn't do. If he got himself killed that made Thomas's death worth nothing. He was better than that, stronger than that.
He no one left to live for and it gave him all the more reason to fight. Allowing the wind to whip around him, he tipped his hat to the grave at his feet before he dared turn away. He may have killed his lover, but he still had more respect for the boy than anyone else he had known in his life.
After all, Thomas had died with a smile. Not many people could say that. Especially when they had been killed at the hands of the person who had forever vowed to love them. Few could have had the courage to simply look away and allow their lover to do what had to be done. Fewer lovers could have walked away without turning the trigger to himself. It hadn't made David better than any of those, but it had made him harder, colder.
It had made him deadlier.
His phone rang as he closed the wrought-iron gate of the cemetery. Checking the number his lip curled in repugnance before he answered with a single curt word.
"Good, you're already there," the voice on the other end of the line congratulated. "An apartment has been procured for you as well as an identification which will be waiting for you at the drop. We'll be in touch." A normal man would have flung the phone against the nearest wall. David didn't have such a luxury even when provoked. The only thing he could do was remind himself that one day he would find that voice.
One day it would die too. Only that voice wouldn't be smiling as Thomas had. That voice would beg for mercy. Such dreams were sweet indeed.
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Alright so I was thinking about it the other day and I decided that I really liked David and his unnamed lover/victim. And so I decided to do more with them and this is what is coming of it so I hope that you all enjoy it!