I can't really explain what happened that night, mostly because I can't remember most of it. The club has that sort of effect on you, that numbing feeling that slips into your veins unnoticed until it's too late and you succumb to every piece of it more than willingly. I danced between two well-toned bodies, not muscular but not exceptionally thin, like his. I'll admit that it was more than a little nice to feel the definitions of something other than ribs from someone who actually knew how to eat, but I still missed him.

Time has no place in the club; it's a dimension all it's own, trapped in the sins of everything you could ever hope to imagine. I remember one of those men I was dancing with sealing our lips together, his hands sliding down to grab my ass and pull me against him, though it wasn't the same really. Not to say I stopped him, because that would be a bit of a lie, but I let it go until I felt his crossed the line. However, that happened after I felt the butterfly kisses along my jaw and down the slope of my neck.

There were certain things that Val just didn't give me anymore, and the thrill of the chase was one of them. He gave me other emotions in it's place, of course: security, love, and so on, but it wasn't that smug, barely controlled feeling that came with knowing that in someone's self-centered world, you were the only thing that existed, and would exist for that one evening.

He could not, nor would not, ever understand that; if he did, he might have not been so brooding all the time, not to mention just sheer moody. Of course, if he did comprehend it, he might begin to partake in it...and that we just cannot have.

The smell of the guy that was damn nearly crawling down my throat was strong, musky, almost intimidating to someone else other than me. It wafted around me like that birthed from a smoke machine, and he crushed me to him harder. People don't take dominant roles with me; that does NOT happen. Growling, I placed the flats of both hands on his chest and pushed him away, sending him stumbling backwards into an empty table behind him. Raising one finger, I waved it back and forth in a "naughty, naughty" gesture, before I turned on my combat booted heel and disappeared.

The people were thick around the door, which I had begun to think was the only ventilation in this place by the refreshing cold January breeze that filtered in. At this point, I just wanted to curl up beside Val, spoon him for a bit with legs tangled, and stroke his hair. He has the most beautiful hair, did you know? Long and sea colored, and it spreads beneath him like the rays of some Expressionist painter's sun. God, yes, that sounded so nice right now, as I elbowed someone in their side to get through the tangle of people and get into the outside world.

I wandered down the vacant skeleton streets, feeling the way the stroking wind caressed my inner thighs as it slid up my coat like an passionate lover, and I sighed. Our school loomed overhead, almost foreboding in the shadows, but I didn't mind. After all, dark things really did remind me of him, dark and moody. Maybe after an hour or two of lounging, he would let me sketch him. I was in an ethereal mood tonight; I think I'd like to go a bit of a softer route, an angel perhaps, with huge feathered wings that would wrap around him almost comfortingly.

The walk across the grass was quiet, even as I kicked one of the "Keep off the Lawn" signs that dotted the space here and there. I could hear the gentle crush of it all beneath me, the only sound one this rather silent night. I looked up to see if it was a full moon; a college dorm is rarely, if ever, silent. Seeing nothing in the sky, I shrugged, slammed my hands into my pockets, and continued walking, trampling on the expensive sod.

I didn't think much of anything as I climbed those stairs; footsteps echoed off the walls like inside a well, and it seemed like an army of people walking upwards instead of just me. Oh well; it was imposing, and that was something could not only deal with, but something I enjoyed as well.

Breaking into the hallways, I made the way to our room as I fumbled with the keys in my pocket. Mmm, perhaps a drink and some take out Chinese food, then some massive relaxing before class tomorrow. If I drew that picture tonight I could take it into class and renew the students fanclub for my koi, and gods know that's always fun. They can desire him all they want; he's mine, all mine, and no one el-

...what was that...?

Must be the television turned up too loud or something. Has to be, right? It's not like we have a gun; if we did, one of us would have kicked the bucket ages ago, with our less-than-friendly arguments and the like. So, of course it must have been the t.v.; that’s the only logical excuse, right?

The sound of my key in the door is too damn loud, and I think my voice was cracking and shaking as I called out his name. I looked in the corner, staring for a long moment at the blank screen that stared back at me like dead eyes, and I stumbled as I made my way to the door.

Nothing moved as I stood in the doorway, fingers clutching the splintered wood from too many arguments, too many doors slamming. The air hung, thick with so many indescribable stenches that slid forcefully down my nostrils and settled in my lungs, clinging to my insides like some unwilling house guest. The world did not move, aside from the spreading lake of crimson that flooded the area like some moon-tide in full swing.

This, much like the club, felt like another dimension, where nothing was real, where nothing was sacred, and everyone was filled with the sins that surrounded them.

I think I screamed.

I staggered to him, dropping down near his fatal wound, and tried to cradle him against me. It burned to cry, feeling as those searing tears filled my eyes without shame, getting stuck in purple lashes as they were pushed from my eyes by only more liquid grief. Gods, I held him, crushed him to me, screaming his name at the top of my lungs, til my voice could barely utter any sound, and even then, I kept trying.

Empty. I don't ever think I felt like this, not even after what he did to me, not even when my parents shunned me and called me a liar. The agony was hot, immediate, wrapping every inch of me in it's black wings and stealing thoughts from my mind. If ever anyone could die of a broken heart, now would be the time.

He was it, the only one that I could tell that about, explain, show myself to, and now he's gone! That selfish bastard! I told him...How could he?!

I loved him, damnit! I didn't think I could ever love someone, but I loved him! That sonofabitch!

Sirens...I hear them so far away, but I feel the shudders in the walls and floor to know they're breaking in the door. Someone's trying to take him from me, that one last thing I have, and I'm screaming at that person, "Fuck off! Burn in hell! I'll never let him go!"

They're telling me all this shit, but it's all background noise, like the sound of snow on a television. I'm clinging to him, sobbing, cursing him and hating him for leaving me all alone after I thought we would be together forever.

There is no such thing as forever.

They have to sedate me to get me to let him go, and even then they have problems. I bit some bitch's hand, feeling the bitter metallic taste of blood flowing into my mouth as I did. It was a comfort, but a reminder of where I was, what I was doing, and just who I was holding.

"You fucking asshole."

They got him free from my clutches, and they wanted to take me in for observation or something, I don't know. They probably thought I was suicidal, and who knows, maybe I was. There's just something about seeing the one person who mattered at all to you lying in a pool of blood and gray matter by his own hand that gets to a man, you know?

I think I screamed again as they put the sheet over him.

I hated the world, hated everyone in it, and wanted that void inside of me to be filled with something, anything.

I picked chaos.

There is a certain satisfaction of being evil, let me tell you. It is it's own gratification. I'd finish this where it started after they let me out, since I pulled that trigger as surely as he did, but until then, until then I'd sit and plot the most glorious way to get the hell out of this pointless little plane.