Title: Eat From the Trees

Author: Aria Delanc

Summary: Don't say goodbye (like you're burying him.) The world is round and he might return.

Rating: T

Pairings: KennyKyle

Disclaimer: NUR.

Notes: Oh, hey. Look. Something. I'm so sad.

Several cues from several Regina Spektor songs. Mostly Just Like th Movies. Uhm. Hints at cannibalism and stuff.

Eat From the Trees

I stir awake and I'm on the floor of the kitchen. The faint light from the TV in the living room only barely enters this room. It's on mute because I don't need to hear what's going on outside. I have everything I need. There is a bottle in my hand, so I drink from it. I don't know what it is. It's coppery and thick and it stings my throat a bit.

It's so dark here. The lights are always off because I never turn them on. I don't need to see anything. The curtains are thick, so the sun never comes in. I sit up and lean against whatever is behind me. The tiles are cold.

I can hear the outside well enough from here, anyway. More than I need to. They're running. All of them, running right by outside. It's too noisy, and I wish it would stop. I don't care about them.

The front door opens, and I'm blinded for a second by the sunlight. It's Kenny. My Kenny. I don't need to walk to him. I don't even know how I bring myself to him. He looks tired, and that makes me sad. I wrap my arms around his head, and he bends down so I can cradle him. I miss him. He's been gone for a while.

I press my lips to his and my heart is immediately full. I feel faint and he holds me up. His neck is pressed against my lips now. I open my mouth and lick him fondly. I graze my teeth against his skin. I love how he tastes. I love how he smells. I love how he feels.

He lifts me and carries me back to the kitchen—he doesn't need to see either. He takes the knife. He slits his palm down the middle, and holds it to me. I lap up the wound and the dark fluid flowing from it. He pushes his hand forward, and I take his fingers between my teeth. The bones are a bother.

He cuts pieces off, now. He's so kind. So considerate. He holds them out, and I lick the blood off his fingers after I take each piece. He is smiling at me, I know it. We do this for a long time. My eyes grow heavy, but I force them open.

I dream while awake. He and I are alone in a grassy field. We've never been here before. There is a small bike parked near a small tree and a small bridge over a small stream, with small trolls underneath. They try to take him from me, and I stop the dream because I don't like it.

Soon, he is nothing, and I'm as full as my heart. He's gone, and I'm sad again. He always does this. He loves me, and then he leaves. I don't know why. I don't know why he does this.

I lick my lips and I lick my fingers. I can still taste him.

We never say anything. Things that we say never come out right. Their phrasing. Their sound. Their tone. Their beats. It's not right. It hurts my heart. We touch, and we kiss, and I take him and the beats are all right, so that's what we do. I love him, and he loves me. I know that. All the beats are all right.

But he doesn't need to leave. He comes back anyway. He shouldn't want to leave. He wouldn't have to leave. I don't like it when he's gone. I get hungry. I'm hungry and he's off somewhere doing something unimportant. He'll be back. But I don't want him to be back. I want him always here with me. He shouldn't have to leave.

One day. One day, when he returns, I won't take him. I'll ask him nicely to dig a hole. And I'll bury him and I'll bury myself and he won't leave. He doesn't have to leave. He doesn't want to leave. I love him, and he loves me.

Might he return.

Eat From the Trees

That Earl Grey had fucking caffeine in it and I really wanna sleep right now but I can't. :(

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