[Emotion: Depression]
Sound itself had left him in his time of need.
Of course, some people would say that the ringing in his ears would be considered a sound... but in his mind, it was just a thought. The ringing... it was a thought. His mind trying to tell him to come to his senses, to snap back into reality.
But how could he?
How could I?
The days had grown longer, darker, and much more still. It was quiet in his house. In the large two-story, five-bedroom, three-bathroom house he lived in, there wasn't a single sound besides his own soft, dragging footsteps along the carpet as he trudged out of his room and across the hall. He walked into the bathroom, flicking the light on, and froze in place once he saw the figure in the mirror.
Hollowed muddy brown eyes, greasy black hair that fell down to the middle of his neck, dry skin that was flaking in places, and a messy stubble that didn't do him justice. And as he stared into the eyes that were once so vibrant, he could see it all again.
"Good morning, Dear... I made breakfast for the kids, they're all downstairs. I made some for you, too, if you want it," said his beautiful blue-haired angel. He looked back at himself in the mirror, noticing his smooth skin, his golden brown irises, his shaven face, and the beautiful raven-black hair that covered his head, styled nicely with a bit of gel. He looked back at his husband with a smirk, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close enough to hear his heartbeat mixing with his own. "How many times do I have to tell you, Sweetheart? The only breakfast, lunch, and dinner I need is you," he cooed, laughing when he heard the quiet giggles of his lover.
"Urien... Come downstairs and eat the food I cooked for you." Frost whined, pulling away from the larger of the two. "I'll be down there, 'kay? Love you."
"Love you, too."
He blinked, bringing himself back into the dark silence that shrouded his eerie house nowadays.
Two years ago today was the last time he heard the beautiful voice of his husband, and the face that matched it perfectly. The details of what happened that day didn't matter much, even though the metallic clang of smashing cars and the screams of his loved ones filled his head every single night, plaguing him every hour of every day.
He made his way downstairs to make himself breakfast, a simple plate of stale Pop-Tarts because he didn't have the energy to make himself much else. He sat on his couch- the same spot every day- and watched the mind-numbingly dull reruns of some show he didn't know the name of.
And again, he was brought back to the past for just a few moments.
"Daddy, Noah took my doll!"
"No, I didn't, she's lying! Eva did it!"
"I'm not even near either of you!" He heard his eldest shout from up the stairs. He laughed and ruffled the hair of his only son, parting his lips to ask what was really going on when his life-saver of a husband suddenly swooped the boy up, pulling the Barbie doll out of his hands and handing it to their youngest daughter. "Be nice to your sister, Noah."
He smiled lovingly at his husband, who sat next to him with their son on his lap. "What're we watching?"
"Looney Tunes."
Back to reality.
This life... It was nothing without his family.
But his family wasn't here anymore.
His life was nothing.
"I love you, Urien."
God, how he missed those words.
"I love you, too, Frostie."
And how he missed saying those words back.
His life was nothing.