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The first thing he registers is pain. It seems to pulse through his body, not bound to a specific spot. Breathing is excruciating. It feels like revenge for wishing it to stop. Akk attempts to turn his head. He can’t.
As soon as his eyes clear from the tears, he notices the rocks underneath him, digging into his flesh, notices the sky above him that has now become shades darker than when he last laid eyes upon it. The air around him smells of pollen and copper, invading his senses, making him want to throw up or throw a fit.
Akk doesn’t know how long he stays there for. It could be hours, moments or years. It feels cruel of the universe, or any God there may be to make even his death slow and painful. He’s had enough of that.
The fall should have killed him. He should’ve been free by now, finally released from his trapped existence. Yet, he can’t even kill himself correctly. Were he able to move, he would get up and finish the job. A sharp rock, or an even nastier fall would do it.
His body won’t allow it. It still clings to life as hard as it can, disregarding his brain’s wishes. Some call it instinct, Akk calls it punishment for all he has done. He has to pay, has to suffer before the end. If he’s lucky, he’ll soon succumb to his injuries, whatever they may be. If he isn’t, the animals will find him at nightfall.
Lost in his own thoughts and the quiet that seems to surround him, he almost doesn’t hear his name being called. At first, he would attribute it to his mind still being hopeful for no reason. Yet, as the voice presses on, getting louder, growing more desperate, Akk realizes this is happening. He would recognize that voice anywhere, would weep at hearing it distressed even if he was not walking this world anymore.
Ayan.
A prayer and a curse. Ayan isn’t supposed to be here. Isn’t supposed to be the one to find him.
The last thing he registers is his phone ringing. Darkness chases away the pain. Finally.
— — — — — — —
Were Akk to describe death, he would summarise it in one word; white. Calming, but empty. Overwhelming, but free.
When he heard of “following the light” he always thought of it as some ritual for redemption, being granted the peace and happiness one was missing in the mortal world.
It’s not like that. It’s…empty. Stale, meaningless, colourless. There’s no angels guiding him, no Elysium waiting for him. Only regret.
When he wakes up again everything is white. A beeping sound carries throughout the room, drilling into his head. It doesn’t take Akk long to realise where he is. His whole body is numb, none of the pain he felt before. It would be terrifying under any other circumstance, to not have control of your limbs, if Akk held any regard for this body anymore.
Awareness comes in pieces. A weight on his right arm has him turning his head towards it.
Ayan.
His lover (does he still have the right to call him that?) is sleeping with his head on Akk’s arm. It can’t be comfortable, Akk thinks, and yet Aye is still here, with him even at this new lowest point in his life. It shouldn’t be as surprising. Ayan is always with him. Always knows what to say, what to do. Always knows how to smile with eyes that hide galaxies just to make Akk feel like home. Ayan is always here. And that makes him realise; Akk isn’t.
Many call suicide a coward’s way out. It is. But Akk never claimed himself as brave. Having Ayan here though, with his brow furrowed in his sleep, dried tear tracks along his rosy cheeks, Akk can finally see just how much he would lose.
Ayan stirs next to him. His eyes are still red and a little puffy from crying. He slowly raises them to meet Akk’s own, and the galaxies that used to be in them are now black holes, ready to swallow both of them whole. Ayan jumps closer, bringing his face mere inches from Akk’s, almost as if afraid to touch him. Who could blame him, though? Akk is lying on a hospital bed, probably looking worse than ever, with mentality more fragile than his body after the fall.
“Akk…” A plea that opens both their tear gates, flooding their faces with agony.
Akk Akk Akk , Aye repeats like a mantra. As if he can’t fathom that Akk is alive. Akk can’t either. He fists his hand to the back of Ayan’s hoodie, bringing him closer. He needs to touch him, to smell him, to know he is real and not some trick of his dying heart.
For a while, they take each other in. Later, Ayan will tell him about his condition, how he felt when he found him lying at an almost hidden rock of the cliff, with anguish pouring out of his soul. Akk will take everything in while refusing to let go of Ayan’s hands. They’ll cry together again, they’ll wail just to remind each other they are alive.
Later, Akk’s parents will arrive. His mother won’t let go of him even for a second. His father will cry, making today one of the few times Akk has seen him shed tears.
Akk’s friends will visit. It will be awkward, but Akk will be grateful for it.
Later…
For now, he’ll stay in Aye’s arms, pretending nothing is wrong with this world, with him.