Work Text:
Gojo, the hideous white haired man, listened attentively to his beloved Charlie’s debate about gun violence.
“Counting or not counting gang violence?” Charlie asked.
The crowd roared.
The bullet shot him in the neck.
The blood streamed out his neck like rain. Drip, drip, drip, it flowed—just like a river.
“NO!!” Gojo cried.
The metallic scent of the scene filled up his nose, his ears ringing from the violent shot.
He frantically pushed and shoved his way up the audience. People tripped, fell, one almost broke their ankle, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was him, his lover, even if he was coated in blood.
“CHARLIE! YOU CAN’T BE DEAD YET—NO, NO YOU CAN’T. I KNOW YOU’LL MAKE IT, YOU HAVE TO.”
He sobbed, millions of tears coursed down his cheeks.
Then the culprit revealed herself— Chevreuse. Her gun held high, tall, like a promise of death.
Before she could speak, Gojo’s hands grasped her neck.
“WHY DID YOU DO THAT,” Gojo cried.
“DO YOU NOT REALIZE WHAT YOU’VE DONE? HE WAS MY BELOVED, MY OTHER HALF, MY PARTNER”
He squeezed her neck even tighter.
Chevruese coughed, her vision blurred, clearly lightheaded, and visually struggled to breathe. She sounded asthmatic.
“ENOUGH,” she yelled with a tight throat. Aggressively attempting to remove his hands off her.
“S-stop choking me. I did what had to be do—“
“NO.”
He squeezed her neck even more.
She glanced up at him.
Their hearts pounded from adrenaline.
She looked down and dashed away, fleeting away from the discord.
“So bold, yet so avoidant.”
Gojo looked back and stared at his lovers dead body. If he could, he would give himself up to him. His lover’s eyes, once reflected his with joy, delight, life, now filled with sorrow and emptiness. He bent down, his hands caressing his lover’s blood-soaked cheeks.
It was a public spectacle. Phones raised, disgusted faces glanced at him, but he still didn’t care. All that mattered was one thing: his lover, Charlie. It didn’t matter if he was drenched in his own blood, he wanted him. The crowd could judge, stare, gossip, but it all didn’t matter. It was all Charlie, his lover, and his avoidant killer.