Broken- And Fixed Again- (A Jamilton Fanfic)

Chapter 13: Cold

//TW: thoughts of physical abuse, gaslighting and victim-blaming, swearing, self-harm||

James

I've never been so cold.

I've never been so lost.

My world had never been this silent before, as Thomas had always been apart of it. Him and his violin and his music, his constant need to fill the empty space that silence left with something beautiful. He spun straw into gold with the music he created, leaving the world a brighter, better place. It annoyed me in all the same ways it lifted me up high into the air; it gave me something to hold onto. Because as long as I had had him, happy and humming and mine, there was nothing the world could throw at us that we couldn't overcome.

It had always been Thomas and James. Never separate. Never apart. Thomas and James and not a single other person to carve a hole into the sanctuary we created for each other, the safe haven he brought every time his warm, gentle touch brushed against me.

But now he was gone. And now, my mornings and my evenings and every moment in between were cold.

It feels like it's all I've ever known, this chill seeping into my skin, biting and crucifying. This unending dread that fills my stomach, making it next to impossible to keep anything down for very long. This complete and utter heartbreak ripping through my chest like daggers every second I spend unoccupied. Without him and his constant warmth always a few moments away, what am I but a lost, confused castaway stranded in a desolate, black ocean?

This loneliness is a disease to which he was the cure, and he has so unfairly yanked that out of my reach.

He was my everything and now he's gone. He was my world and he left me for nothing. I had given him all I could and he left me simply because it wasn't enough for him.

I can't even bear to think of him anymore. I can hardly hear his name without wanting to hurt somebody, anybody, just to feel that delicious swell of control once more accompanied by the stinging of skin against skin, flesh against flesh. I needed that rush of adrenaline, that comforting high that only inflicting pain could bring.

I want somebody to bleed. I want somebody to hurt. I don't care if it's me. But I want Thomas to feel every second of pain he's caused me in the past few days without him by my side, exactly where he should be. I want that whore to suffer in all the exact same ways he made me suffer the second he abandoned me for nothing but a series of grand delusions as temporary as rain in the hot glare of the afternoon sun.

I hate him but I'd give anything in the world if it meant I got to touch him again, if I got to see him and hold him and never let him go.

I'm losing sleep, now; the darkness creeping in on me as I lay awake in bed whispers of all the things I offered him and all the things I did for him and all the ways he spat in my face and left without so much as a word. He's in every single dream I have, his gorgeous brown gaze following me, ridiculing me, constantly asking why I just wasn't good enough for him. Every time I close my eyes and try to focus on the relief that the nothingness brings, I can only hear his voice, his laughter, and though it feels like he still belongs to me, in reality, he's gone.

He left and I fucking let him go. Did he ever once consider me or how I felt? Or did he just leave the entire world behind, chasing ideals he'd never be able to actually cling to? He left and I watched him as he stepped out of our apartment, and I haven't talked to him since. I haven't heard the sweet, soft music of his beautiful voice. Thomas left me and never once looked back at me, who had shattered in his absence.