Delirium

.fifteen

"I'm still horny," Cyan groaned, closing his eyes and pumped faster. "You can help if you want."

Jonah chuckled dryly, shaking his head. "I like living, thanks." Sam, on the other hand, looked as of he was contemplating. That was until Jonah had grabbed him by his shoulder and was forcing him out of the door.

"We'll see you later." He said, both of them going out of the front door.

Cumming for the hundredth time that day, Cyan was finally done, closing his eyes as he laid back. His body buzzed, vibrating with the drug that pumped through his system. Euphoria seemed to silence his thoughts when it came to all the bad shit that usually filled it, instead, random thoughts conjuring up in its place.

Like his life in general. Why was he here, on this bed, high as hell with an unconscious officer off to the side of him? Why was he here on earth anyway? What the hell was the purpose of living? What was the point in a human's life? Born out of a woman's selfish desire to get off, there is no definite meaning to someone's life.

As Cyan thought about it, he realized that there was a meaning and that meaning was to affect someone else life. That was it. Cyan had no meaning to his life by himself, but he had meaning when it came to Elliot. If he had never been born, Elliot's life would be different. Another person's meaning would've been to change his life. Maybe a Samantha or a Ronald, or even another Cyrus.

And Elliot affected Cyan's life and the lives of the people he had killed along with their families. And then those people affected someone else's life and so on and so forth.

Your life was just meaningless unless you were changing someone else's and their lives were meaningless too.

Doctors, lawyers, officers, and even crackheads...

It was all fucking meaningless.

Mason groaned lowly, but Cyan didn't bother to see if he had woken up fully, still too deep in thoughts.

Mason coughed hard, his body feeling as is it was on fire when he had come into consciousness and his vision blurry from his swollen eye. His mouth had a strong taste of blood, although as he ran his tongue against the roof of his mouth and cheeks, he couldn't find the bleeding. Another groan left his lips as he tried to sit up, leaning against the cold wall and trying to look around.

Cyan was still there, and the fact had confused him. He had thought this entire thing had happened so that Elliot could break Cyan out but the male looked just as he had left him. Well, with the exception of having only a shirt on and the whining about drugs seeming to cease. Mason tried to focus on why they had targeted him without taking Cyan back but his head was pounding and he had to stop.

Mason had to call somebody to help him while also keeping an eye on Cyan but his phone had been taken and smashed right in front of him. Not only could he barely move but he hadn't bothered setting up a home phone yet so he had no communication out. He was fucked. Elliot could've come right now and offed him and no one would even know until Richard or his sister came to check up on him.

Mason had lost his train of thought as the bed creaked when Cyan rolled over, climbing off of it and reaching to grab an unopened pack of cigarettes from off of the ground. His hair flew in every direction, his eyes narrowed but his pupils dilated to the max and Mason instantly realized that he had managed to get under the influence of something. Not able to speak, he just watched as Cyan hurriedly tried to unwrap and open the cigarettes, almost as if his life depended on it, and quickly take one out and quickly lighting it up with a lighter that had been with it. Cyan barely took a breath in between his drags, holding his head up and allowing for the smoke to stay in his lungs for a good while before blowing it out.

As soon as he would blow the smoke put though, it would be another long drag that ate almost the entire cigarette and another long hold. It took him under a few minutes before the filter was the only thing left and Cyan didn't wait to light another one. Watching in pain and awe, Mason witnessed Cyan chain smoke the entire package in under fifteen minutes with not so much as a cough.

"I hate fucking cigarettes," Cyan suddenly said with distaste. Though, if he hated them, then why did he smoke the entire pack? Mason wondered this as Cyan rubbed his entire face with both of his hands before shaking them off as if they had been wet. "I need alcohol. I fucking need another hit." Cyan growled out, standing up and pacing for a moment.

Frustration began settling in Cyans stomach as he realized that the high was decreasing and he was craving anything to get him back up to the level. The cigarettes didn't fucking help with anything and Cyan had rummaged through the kitchen earlier so he knew that there wasn't any alcohol. He had told Elliot that he could go without another hit...that he would only need that last one, but that was a lie. He couldn't do it. He needed so much more.

And like every other time he took this type of drug, agitation finally filled him. Elliot had always been the one to see -and receive- the worst of Cyan's irritability and that was probably why Elliot often would prefer Cyan to snort multiple lines of blow rather than reluctantly letting him snort or shoot up any type of methamphetamines. The shit made him fucking crazy but Cyan didn't think that it was worst off then coming down from the cocaine. Now that just made him feel more shitty and depressed than he normally was originally. Agitation was somewhat better than that.

But not by much.

Now it was Mason's turn to witness it since he couldn't do much about it. Mason didn't even think that Cyan knew they he was awake, but his next words proved otherwise. "I swear if I'm being held hostage, you need to get alcohol." Cyan aimed a dirty look over at Mason and shook his head as he continued pacing back and forth, occasionally running his hand up and down his arm.

For a good while, it was just the sounds of Cyan's nonsense words that he muttered to himself and the sound of Mason's heart beating in his own ears. They didn't talk to each one of another. Cyan still hadn't even tried to escape and Mason couldn't even move a muscle with the pain being too much for him.

That that was how it was until Mason passed out once again.