[The gash is large, the metallic tang of fresh blood hits Toby almost immediately, and he's suddenly immensely hungry and salivating from how good it smells...
...
The memory begins with the buzzing remnants of a forgotten conversation. Whatever Toby had said or laughed at earlier had been meaningless chatter to fill the silence and pass the time as they wait… for the sun. The sky starts to brighten, the clouds light up like mirrors reflecting the sun's beams, and that's when he looks at Dorian for what might be the last time.
Toby wants to remember him just like this, so perfect and beautiful and beloved. And he knows Dorian loves him in return, loves him even though he's a monster, a withered and decrepit soul inhabiting the shell of a young man who had died long ago. How filthy and disgusting; he has no right to live. All this time, not wanting to die, pretending his life has any meaning or worth…
He doesn't deserve eternity, and he certainly doesn't deserve Dorian.
"You don't have to do this, you know. We could head back—"
"No." He interrupts Dorian because he knows someone as beautiful and perfect and eternal as Dorian can't possibly understand. "No, it's fine, I want to see it again. It's funny… I can't ever remember wanting to see it before. Always assumed I must have; maybe I didn't." Having barely spoken these words, Toby suddenly cries out and then hisses in pain.
A band of red-violet stretches across the sky, chasing the lighter blue away.
"Oh—why, we should go back. We can find shelter, cover you up…"
"NO. No, I have to see this."
"That's the thing, though, Toby, you don't—"
"But I do! Dorian, please."
And then, the red-violet becomes rose becomes a brightly burning orange and amber. The daylight spreads like a red-hot infection, and Toby feels as if his whole being is burning and alight like a scorching coal. He clenches his teeth and tries to weather the pain as his skin splits into char and blisters.
Suddenly, Dorian's arms are around him. Dorian holds him close. And while he appreciates the sentiment, the gesture, the manifestation of Dorian's pure love, Toby can't quite feel his grasp but is guessing it must be tender and compassionate, caring and loving.
No, Toby can't really tell, can't physically feel it past his own self-inflicted fiery torment.
"Dorian… It hurts," he manages to grind out between miserable groans of agony. Everything inside him feels as though it's smouldering and splitting and breaking apart into billions of tiny pieces, if not even more than that.
"I know, I know…" Dorian's voice tries to be assuring and comforting.
Any and all of Toby's fluids start sizzling and evaporating. He cries uncontrollably, his boiling hot tears drizzling down his face and stinging his dry, cracked, blistering skin. Seemingly on its own, his countenance twists and contorts, and he can no longer hide his sorrow and weariness.
"Dorian, please… Th—you were right, I don't… I don't want to do this…"
Something takes hold of his face, these are Dorian's hands that probably feel so soft and tender; something presses against his burnt, raw lips, those are Dorian's sweet and succulent lips trying to kiss his pain away. He screams into Dorian, crying out as the sun incinerates him inside and out. As Dorian pulls away, Toby feels something on his head, this is Dorian running his hand through Toby's hair, small flakes of ash slipping through Dorian's fingers and seemingly dance in the air as they fall away. Toby turns his dry, bloodshot eyes to Dorian, his gaze pleading for… relief. But he knows it's already far too late to turn back, and so all he could ask is for Dorian to stay with him through to the very end.
"It's okay. It's okay," Dorian coos, trying to hush his pained groans. "It's fine, it's fine. Come on, you can do this. I'm here for you; remember, I always will be."
Even if he tries, Toby can barely even move anymore. There is hardly enough of his body left to hold itself together. Then, Dorian picks up Toby's hand and gives it the gentlest squeeze, and beneath his thin, charred, and peeling skin, Toby's insides shift like sand as if Dorian's careful grip will leave an imprint.
With what little strength and power he has over his body, Toby manages to squint at the intense ball of light above him and then… starts laughing.
"This is it then, Dorian. I think this is the end now…" He pants, sniffles, and continues, "I-it's beautiful… don't you think?"
"Mm-hmm… Like you and me, yeah?" Dorian swallows audibly. It sounds like he's trying not to be miserable himself. "Beauty and death, together."
"Yeah."
Again, Toby hisses and groans in pain, and Dorian's quiet chuckles turn into choked and bitter sobs.
"Look, I ought to say… thank you, and… I love you, Dorian Gray."
All emotion and thought and the memory itself come to an abrupt end as Toby's body completely turns to dust.
...
Toby screams as he is suddenly jarred from the memory, tears rippling down his face as he drops to his knees and hugs his shuddering self as if he'll come apart at any moment.]
no subject
...
The memory begins with the buzzing remnants of a forgotten conversation. Whatever Toby had said or laughed at earlier had been meaningless chatter to fill the silence and pass the time as they wait… for the sun. The sky starts to brighten, the clouds light up like mirrors reflecting the sun's beams, and that's when he looks at Dorian for what might be the last time.
Toby wants to remember him just like this, so perfect and beautiful and beloved. And he knows Dorian loves him in return, loves him even though he's a monster, a withered and decrepit soul inhabiting the shell of a young man who had died long ago. How filthy and disgusting; he has no right to live. All this time, not wanting to die, pretending his life has any meaning or worth…
He doesn't deserve eternity, and he certainly doesn't deserve Dorian.
"You don't have to do this, you know. We could head back—"
"No." He interrupts Dorian because he knows someone as beautiful and perfect and eternal as Dorian can't possibly understand. "No, it's fine, I want to see it again. It's funny… I can't ever remember wanting to see it before. Always assumed I must have; maybe I didn't." Having barely spoken these words, Toby suddenly cries out and then hisses in pain.
A band of red-violet stretches across the sky, chasing the lighter blue away.
"Oh—why, we should go back. We can find shelter, cover you up…"
"NO. No, I have to see this."
"That's the thing, though, Toby, you don't—"
"But I do! Dorian, please."
And then, the red-violet becomes rose becomes a brightly burning orange and amber. The daylight spreads like a red-hot infection, and Toby feels as if his whole being is burning and alight like a scorching coal. He clenches his teeth and tries to weather the pain as his skin splits into char and blisters.
Suddenly, Dorian's arms are around him. Dorian holds him close. And while he appreciates the sentiment, the gesture, the manifestation of Dorian's pure love, Toby can't quite feel his grasp but is guessing it must be tender and compassionate, caring and loving.
No, Toby can't really tell, can't physically feel it past his own self-inflicted fiery torment.
"Dorian… It hurts," he manages to grind out between miserable groans of agony. Everything inside him feels as though it's smouldering and splitting and breaking apart into billions of tiny pieces, if not even more than that.
"I know, I know…" Dorian's voice tries to be assuring and comforting.
Any and all of Toby's fluids start sizzling and evaporating. He cries uncontrollably, his boiling hot tears drizzling down his face and stinging his dry, cracked, blistering skin. Seemingly on its own, his countenance twists and contorts, and he can no longer hide his sorrow and weariness.
"Dorian, please… Th—you were right, I don't… I don't want to do this…"
Something takes hold of his face, these are Dorian's hands that probably feel so soft and tender; something presses against his burnt, raw lips, those are Dorian's sweet and succulent lips trying to kiss his pain away. He screams into Dorian, crying out as the sun incinerates him inside and out. As Dorian pulls away, Toby feels something on his head, this is Dorian running his hand through Toby's hair, small flakes of ash slipping through Dorian's fingers and seemingly dance in the air as they fall away. Toby turns his dry, bloodshot eyes to Dorian, his gaze pleading for… relief. But he knows it's already far too late to turn back, and so all he could ask is for Dorian to stay with him through to the very end.
"It's okay. It's okay," Dorian coos, trying to hush his pained groans. "It's fine, it's fine. Come on, you can do this. I'm here for you; remember, I always will be."
Even if he tries, Toby can barely even move anymore. There is hardly enough of his body left to hold itself together. Then, Dorian picks up Toby's hand and gives it the gentlest squeeze, and beneath his thin, charred, and peeling skin, Toby's insides shift like sand as if Dorian's careful grip will leave an imprint.
With what little strength and power he has over his body, Toby manages to squint at the intense ball of light above him and then… starts laughing.
"This is it then, Dorian. I think this is the end now…" He pants, sniffles, and continues, "I-it's beautiful… don't you think?"
"Mm-hmm… Like you and me, yeah?" Dorian swallows audibly. It sounds like he's trying not to be miserable himself. "Beauty and death, together."
"Yeah."
Again, Toby hisses and groans in pain, and Dorian's quiet chuckles turn into choked and bitter sobs.
"Look, I ought to say… thank you, and… I love you, Dorian Gray."
All emotion and thought and the memory itself come to an abrupt end as Toby's body completely turns to dust.
...
Toby screams as he is suddenly jarred from the memory, tears rippling down his face as he drops to his knees and hugs his shuddering self as if he'll come apart at any moment.]