Hey, guys. This is another piece of flash fiction I wrote last night when I couldn't sleep. It was written in 20 minutes so I'm not sure how great it is. Had to time myself like in class. It could have been better, but oh well, it's short. Currently, I'm also working on a short story but I'm not sure how well it's turning out. You could look at this as slash or het - it isn't specific. Whatever you want.

Read on :)


"You can't always get what you want...but if you try sometimes..."

Flash Fiction April 2013

Hours ago, I lost the love of my life.

It wasn't easy, or fancy, or anything remotely 'good'.

People say they want to die "well". A "good" death. I think it's what everyone wants but few get it. Everyone also wants to die at home, but 80% of people die in hospitals.

We don't always get what we want.

I wanted him to live. I sat there and held him, begged and watched, but I guess I didn't pray hard enough. Seconds before help arrived, he looked me in the eye and smiled.

We don't always get what we want.

I watched as his eyes dimmed. Watched his chest refuse to move after that last exhale. Knew he was gone even before I stabbed my fingers desperately into his neck.

No pulse, not breathing, blood everywhere…


I don't know why I'm at the hospital. They've told me absolutely nothing since nurses led and left me here like some lost puppy. That was hours ago. I've cleaned the blood off my hands but I can still feel it, thick and heavy like this weight in my heart I don't want. The blood on my clothes isn't my own but it might as well be.

"Are you hurt?"

"No. He…"

Hours ago. He's dead – why are they making me stay here? Why haven't they told me anything? I have arrangements to make, people to call, tears to cry and pleas to make.

Maybe he's not…

I want so badly for this to be a dream. Any second now, I'll open my eyes and everything will be fine. He'll look at me with those big brown eyes and smile, and I'll curl up with him until I'm sure it's just a dream. And then, I'll breathe until I feel like me.

I just want to wake up.

But we don't always get what we want.

Just because I want to run to him and never let go, doesn't mean it's going to happen.

For a while, I sit there, in that hard, uncomfortable plastic chair, and I pray. I pray so hard I can't breathe and I can't see straight. I pray with so many breaths I'm light headed and my heart hurts.

Please let him be alive. Please don't take him away.

A hand touches my shoulder. I flinch and look up to see a nurse smiling at me. It's an easy smile which defies everything I've seen today, because in that smile is hope.

"Would you like to see him?" she asks, and I'm so exhausted and ruined all I can do is nod.

She takes me to a room. The whole time, she's talking, but I don't hear her.

Instead I run to the bed and grab his hand. His warm, very much alive hand. The heart monitor beeps a steady rhythm, and his chest rises and falls in that way it wasn't before.

His eyes flutter open and I choke out a sob.

Maybe sometimes, we do get what we want.

If we pray so hard we can't breathe.

And there's that bit of flash fiction. Thanks for reading and please review!