[CLOSED] why don't you love me?

[monroe owen hughes]

Monroe sighed. He wished it was as easy as forget it. But as far as he could tell, Zain didn't think he was much more than a toy, someone to mess with when no one else wanted to play the game. He shook his head, turning over. He sat up, pulling off his shoes, and beating the dirt off of them before he put them back on.

"I'm just gonna go home.. My parents and sister aren't even there so it's not like it matters.." He shrugged, pulling himself up. He checked his pockets for his dead phone, and grabbed his keys from the grass. "I didn't want anything, okay? I don't always think about sex.." He mumbled, wiping absently at his cheek. He walked over to his car, climbing into the driver's side. He plugged his phone into the charger, laying his head on the steering wheel as he checked his missed calls, then threw his phone to the floor. 'Guess Harp was right. You're not worth anyone's time.' He thought, putting his keys in the ignition. He started the car, turning on the air and turning off the radio.

[zain marshal rhoston]

"I guess I do.." Zain whispered, getting up. He didn't follow him though, passing the car, tears dripping down his cheeks as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. Maybe he should leave him alone before he hurt anybody else. He stared down at the sidewalk, trudging slowly along the length of the park, peering into the dark so he wouldn't run into too much trouble. He pulled the pills from his pocket, staring at them, and finally threw them down into the middle of the road, rubbed at his face. "Fuck up.." He huffed.

[monroe owen hughes]

Monroe just folded his arms over the steering wheel, honestly feeling broken hearted for the first time in his life. He had never let anyone in, had never asked for this. He pushed people away for this exact reason. He ran his fingers through his hair, crying so hard he couldn't even see. He killed the engine and sat there in his car with the door open and his leg hanging out, just crying. He fished in his pocket, pulling out his pocket knife. He was tempted to use it, but tossed it to the floor. He reached down, dropping the steering wheel down under the dash. He folded his arms over the dash, biting his lip as he started crying again. "Dad's gotta give me a fucking Lambo. Who can sleep in a damn Lamborghini?" He asked himself, slamming his hand hard enough into the glass panel on the dash hard enough to shatter it, getting glass in his hand. He leaned over the side of the car, picking it out without a care.

[zain marshal rhoston]

Halfway there, Zain just..gave up. He sat down carefully on the side of the road, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his face against them. What the hell had he just done? 'Always fucking mistakes, you ways have to screw somebody over. This time it was someone who thought thy cared, dumbass.' He drew in a soft breath, didn't botherget up. His phone started buzzing and he pulled it out, staring at the call from Skylar. He picked up, sniffed softly. "Hello?"
"Dammit Zain, I should have guessed you wouldn't listen. Where are you? I'll come pick you up."
"I dunno.." He rubbed angrily at an eye, hung up and pocketed his phone again. He didn't want to be found, had no clue where the hell he was, still wasn't used to the place.

[monroe owen hughes]

Monroe finally decided he didn't care anymore, that he was going to get back to his normal ways. 'You're not worth anyone. You don't deserve anyone. You may as well go home and gut yourself.' He thought, fixing the steering wheel. He wiped his bloody hand on his jeans, pulling his phone and pocket knife up and tucking them under his leg. He started the car, and had it turned around before he even closed the door. He sped down the road, stopping just inches away from Zain.

"Get the fuck in and I'll bring you home." He said, wondering why he had the air on with the hood down. He turned the air off, looking at his bleeding hand again. It was a lot worse, but he didn't care. His abdomen was going to look a lot worse in a little while. "You're not gonna sit out here and pout like a fucking pansy. Now get in before I tie you to the damn seat and bring you home."

[zain marshal rhoston]

Zain looked up, glaring faintly at the attitude. But what did he expect? He was a screw up, Monroe didn't want him, never wanted him. Why should he? He tried hiding the hurt in his eyes, knew it didn't work as he got in, studied Monroe's hand quietly. Absently he reached over and took it, putting pressure on the wound. He didn't say anything as he worked his jaw, looking emotionlessly out the window.

[monroe owen hughes]

Monroe pulled his hand away, pushing his door open. It swung up, and he grabbed his pocket knife. He could see glass still in it, glass he couldn't get out. He used his pocket knife to outline the palm of his hand, then carefully cut it out. He pulled off his shirt, wrapping it around his hand as he leaned back. He waited for the bleeding to slow before he closed his door, never wincing at the pain. His mother thought he was insane. And he was. Insane with a few yards of rope in the garage, a balcony outside his window, and a curiosity in his head.

"You should feel special." He said, unwrapping his hand so he could drive. "You can make a guy who can cut half his hand off and never flinch cry like a fucking baby." He muttered, then floored it, peeling out onto the road.

[zain marshal rhoston]

Zain winced, watching him quietly. He scoffed. "And you must be special, telling me not to kill myself changing my mind about it, and then changing my mind again just minutes later. Tomorrow I'll be in hell okay? You won't ever have to deal with me again, I won't be a bother to anybody anymore." He looked out the window, debating on just jumping out of the car. At this speed it would at least do him some damage. Or he could distract him with his eyes...crash them both. His teeth gritted, unaware his eyes were already vibrant in his rage. "Maybe you should dump me off at the lake and I'll fucking drown myself like I did everyone else back home."

[monroe owen hughes]

"You cant intentionally drown yourself. You're gonna pass out before you die and turn over. Unless you're lucky and stay face down. In any case, pneumonia would kill you later. But that doesn't matter, does it? I'm just gonna meet you in hell." He zoomed past Zain's road, intended to stop and wrap his hand before he died how he didnt even want to. He pressed further on the gas, couldn't see how fast he was going.

"If you learned anything tonight, let it be that love will drive you mad. Especially when the other party doesn't give a fuck." He pulled into the driveway, and got out. "I've been looking for someone like you.." He sang to himself, jogging up the stairs. He came back down, wrapping his hand. He pulled a bag out of his pocket, dumping the pills into his hand.

"Pick one. One will kill you quickly, one will kill you slowly, and one won't do anything at all." He looked at him, daring him to take one. "You wanna die, right? Take it and I'll drop you off in the river and you can call me and tell me which pill you got."

[zain marshal rhoston]

Zain worked his jaw. "I already knew that," He spat. "Because fucking believe ne I was afraid of what I felt for you." He looked away, staring out the window at the blur of imagery that rolled by. He should have run when Monroe got out, should have left. He glared when he came back, studying thebpills. He didn't hesitate though, there was no fear, as he snatched one up. But he didn't care if he wanted him to wait. He swallowed it dry, staring at him silently, waiting for him to pull out so he could jerk the wheel, kill them both.