23 Darkhost?

lostcybertronian:

Thank you very much to the lovely lovely @bing-iplier for helping me kill you all brainstorm with this.

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Prompt 23: “They didn’t deserve you.”

    He wasn’t expecting it. Never in a million years.

    He wasn’t expecting to smell blood as soon as he stepped into his clearing. He wasn’t expecting to see it splattering the windows even from fifty yards away.

    He wasn’t expecting to have to sprint to the cabin, bound up the steps and across the sagging porch.

    He wasn’t expecting what he knew he would see as soon as he threw open the rotting, wooden door.

    “Edward!” The body on the floor barely resembled him. There was so much blood and no life to the blank, brown eyes that stared upward without actually seeing anything.

    But it was undeniably, unmistakably him.

    The Author’s bat slipped from his fingers, fell to the floor with a heavy thunk. He didn’t hear it. It was drowned out by the thundering of his own heartbeat in his ears as he scrambled to Edward, dropped to his knees beside him.

    It was then that he froze. It was then that he noticed that he wasn’t alone.

    He slowly, slowly, slowly glanced up. Met the eyes of the man with no shadow.

    “Author,” Dark purred, leaning down and extending a hand. “Allow me to help you up.”

    “You killed him!” The Author cried, batting Dark’s hand aside, blinking back tears.

    Dark scowled and withdrew his hand. “Of course I did. He didn’t deserve you.”

    “What-”

    “You can be so much more, Author.” Dark brushed past him, stepping over Edward’s body like it was nothing. “You have so much power. So much potential.”

    “But your doctor,” Dark continued, wrinkling his nose, “was in your way. He was dragging you down.”

    The Author finally tore his eyes from Edward and glanced at Dark. “He- I-”

    “Loved him?” Dark sneered. “Don’t play that card. You’re just like me, Author. You don’t feel love. You use. You use, and you move on.

“Which is what you need to do now.” He offered the Author his hand again. “Move on.”

The Author looked back down at Edward. His boyfriend. His love.

He looked back up at Dark. Waiting expectantly. Offering promises. Promises of power. Of potential.

He only hesitated a moment before reaching out and taking his hand.