Izuru x Reader [I Love You] -Angst

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Requested.

  IM SORRY ITS LATE. I usually work better at night, when it's really late. I feel terrible I'm sorry. (Right, this is a Izuru x male!reader - Angst. I felt like I didn't make that clear enough in the story.)

  (This contains depression and suicide, read with caution.
If you have trouble aren't comfortable with this topic, skip the story.)

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  Izuru stared at the room in front of him. It was dark, and he could hardly make anything out, but that didn't matter, he's remembered the layout perfecting, so he knew where everything went. The muffled storm outside was too loud for his liking, and he almost smashed the window out of anger. Silently, he walked to the bed, remembering all that happened earlier. He knew it was going to happen, it was inevitable, and he predicted it some time before, but why did it leave such a toll on him? (Y/n)'s smell lingered through the room, his room. Izuru joined him everyday in all of his activities, not stepping out of his shadow. Izuru would never give him a straight answer either. He knew (y/n) was suspicious, and it frighten (y/n), but Izuru never left.

  Izuru would try encouraging him multiple times, with small, but sweet words. It never worked, he knew that, but sometimes they would work for a short period of time. That was enough for Izuru, even helping the petite male by a little was enough for him. He knew just by being with him, Izuru was helping, but that alone wasn't enough. Often, he tried talking to him about everything he knew was wrong, but (y/n) would quickly change the subject. He wanted to talk about it, but he wasn't sure on what he would say or do.

  There were times where (y/n) was fine, but one thought changed his entire mood. He was often paranoid of losing Izuru, because his touch calmed him down, even though he hardly did it. Izuru would sometimes run his hands through (y/n)'s hair, his height helping him feel protected. But it was never enough, Izuru knew that. He wanted to change it, and to try harder, because he loved him, but he knew nothing could stop his decision.

  That's why he was late that day. He didn't want to be late. He wanted to at least say goodbye, but fate had other plans. He wanted to hold him again, to comfort him again, because it comforted him as well. But what was he to do now that he didn't have him? He helped him overcome so many problems, so many problems ...still, it wasn't enough. He loved him, so he tried saving him, but he was to late, and (y/n) had already made his decision. Izuru didn't like his decision, none of his friends liked his decision, and they blamed themselves.

  Izuru clearly remembered the scene, his small, but limp body. It was never going to move again. He was never going to smile for him again. Izuru's heart ached for him, but he knew it was his fault. He didn't try hard enough. It wasn't enough. He hated that part, knowing whatever he did wasn't enough. But still, he regretted not trying harder, it would have helped both of them.

  Izuru sat on the bed, and watched as the rain hit the window harshly. His thoughts, however, quickly went back to the owner of the room. His vision became blurry, and he felt the warm tears quickly roll down his face. He touched his cheek, and blinked a couple of times, trying to decrease the flow. It wasn't working.

  When Izuru first met (y/n), he was already lost, but he would try imagining him when he was happy, and it made Izuru happy. He wanted to see him happy and well, but it never happened for him. A surge of emotions suddenly hit Izuru, and he smashed the window. The rain not only wet Izuru, but the bed he was on as well. The wet clothing became uncomfortable, and the cold wind that fiercely hit him gave him goosebumps. Sighing, he felt the tears that suddenly stopped, start again. Izuru had the note he was going to give (y/n) today, and he note (y/n) gave him. It was the same as every other note. It held three small words, and was on a even smaller piece of paper.

'I love you.'

  He would send him that everyday, before the day started. (Y/n) would always carry it in his pocket, and glance at it at random moments. Izuru ripped up his piece of paper out of anger, and look besides him. In the moonlight, he made out the large, almost blank piece of paper. At first glance it was empty, but at the bottom right corner stood the words Izuru had grown so familiar with:

'I love you.'

  He tried picking it up, but half of it tore off. The water had soaked it too much. Izuru closed his eyes and sighed, before exiting the room and slamming the door.

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This seems all over the place I'm sorry. It's also extremely short. (I'm sorry.)

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