Well, I was bored and I haven't written a new story in a while so….here it is.

Rated T for suicide.

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this except for the plot.

Love, a funny little four letter word. Who would have thought it would mean so much. Who would have thought that it would have caused this much pain. I certainly didn't think so.

I held the razor blade in my hand and thought about how something so perfect could turn so horrible. I guess it was my fault…I never should have told you that I loved you. I never should have kissed you. Maybe if I hadn't you would still be here.

Maybe.

"Why?" I asked myself, the tears streaking down my pale cheeks. I can picture your face in my mind. I can picture the way you looked at me when I first said it. The pure look of disgust and hurt.

"You can't love me." You had said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I'm your best friend and I don't love you. That's gross."

I felt the tears slide faster down my cheeks as I remembered the hateful look you gave me. I didn't even notice I had slid the blade over my wrist until I felt the blood start to flow down my arm. I looked down and took the knife in my other hand before sliding it across my opposite wrist.

It felt so good.

I felt myself falling to the ground. I never felt the impact, because you had caught me. I looked up into those beautiful black eyes of yours and smiled weekly.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You whisper to me, holding me close to your chest.

I feel myself being taken over by darkness, so I sum up enough energy to say my last words. "I love you. I always have."

And I slowly fall into my never ending sleep.

"God I love you, Trunks."

What did you think?