Some of the worst and best parts of life are the ones you spend alone. At least, that's what Corrie's read. But, no matter how much he tries to convince himself that he's going to be better off without Devon, it doesn't feel right. It just feels cold and empty.

He doesn't want to break up with Devon. He doesn't even know what to say. He's told enough girls and boys that he doesn't want a relationship with them, that they were being used for their bodies only. Yet, he can't seem to find the right words to tell Devon that he can't be with him.

There's a small knock on the door before it opens and in comes Devon. He's dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Even dressed so simple, Corrie is still admiring his beauty the way he should've been doing since the beginning.

"Hi," Devon greets. He gives Corrie a short lived hug before sitting down on the usual chair. Devon knows something is wrong. He can feel it, and he can see it in Corrie's eyes.

"Hey." Corrie sits down on his bed. It feels so wrong.

"We might as well talk about whatever you need to get off your chess," Devon breaks the silence. "There's no point in small talk."

Corrie shakes his head. "Yes there is. One last time. Tell me about your day."

"What do you mean 'one last time'? Corrie, what the hell is going on?" Devon's voice grows panicky.

"Just tell me about your day, and then I'll tell you everything else." Corrie's voice is more collected. It's beginning to feel like the end. He's trying to take it as best as he can.

"I had band practice. It was boring, besides the first chair clarinet having a minor freak out which involved yelling at our director. To be fair, the freak out should've been predicted because our director is running us ragged." Devon bite his lip. "I talked to Hannah today. I haven't really seen her or Matt, or Jordan for that matter, around all that much. She looks really rough and she had a couple of bruises covering her arms. I need to be concerned, but I can't be. Not because I don't want to be, but because I already have too much to worry about."

"Just talk to the guidance counselor or something," Corrie suggests halfheartedly. It's not that he doesn't care about Hannah or Matt or Jordan. He really does give some sorts of shits about them. But there's so much to worry about. There's so much on his plate, how can he add them to it?

Devon shrugs his shoulders. "I probably will if I ever find the time." He looks at Corrie, hoping to find out what's wrong. Sadly, Corrie's always had a master poker face. "Okay, we had our small talk. Can you please tell me what's wrong now?"

Corrie doesn't know what to say. Yes, he does. He knows that he needs to tell Devon they need to break up. They need to stop seeing each other.

The dull ache in Corrie's chest is growing. It's beating from the inside, begging him to stop. If this was the right thing to do, why did it feel like it was killing him?

Sometimes the hardest decisions are the ones that set you free. Sometimes the decisions that feel they're going to kill you, are going to save you from dying in the end.

And those are the reasons that "We need to break up" slips out of Corrie's mouth before he can process what he said.

There's a brief pause, like everything just stops in place. The time hold still, and the birds stop singing, and the world stops turning. For that one pause, everything is the same yet changing all at the same time.

"Wha-what?" Devon's voice shakes. "Are you being for real?" He rubs his face with both his hands.

No, don't do this, Corrie, please don't do this, Corrie's mind screams at him, he's all you have, he's your home, he's apart of you.

You need to let him go, screams another part of his mind, it's time. He's going to benefit from it. You will too. It's time.

How can his mind be at such a war, he wonders. How can his mind be fighting for two different outcomes when his mind is one thing?

"I'm for real," Corrie confirms in a meek voice. His eyes stay downcast at the floor, hoping that Devon won't start crying, or better yet, Corrie himself won't start crying.

What Corrie doesn't see while looking down is Devon's breath of relief. For just a moment, he feels like this weight has been lifted off his chest, and he can breathe once again. But, when that settles in, so does the reality.

It's over.

Somehow, that's even worse than the weight he'd been carrying around, the weight that was suffocating him. Because that weight was a reminder that Corrie was still, in some fucked up, mental sort of way, without a doubt, his.

And now, it feels like he's been been punched in the chest and he can't breathe. He can't move. It just hurts.

A small, "oh" slips through Devon's lips. He's trying to keep it together. He's trying to remind himself to stay calm. This isn't the place to break down. They've both gone through these break ups many times.

"I'm sorry," Corrie whispers. His voice is so faint he can barely hear himself. "I don't want it to be this way."

"I know," Devon replies, his voice croaky. He doesn't know how much Corrie wished he didn't need to do this. He doesn't know how Corrie's breaking inside, that this was crushing him.

"I don't think you really do." Somehow, some part of Corrie feels like he's going to survive this break up if he's survived all the last. Even though the circumstances of those were different, this one feels more grown up. It feels like they've matured so much that they know that this break up is...well...is.

With all his strength, Devon pushes himself off the chair and walks over to Corrie. Devon takes Corrie's hand and leads them both to the door. Devon looks into Corrie's chocolaty brown eyes and sees that there are tears that have yet to fall.

Devon leans in, and Corrie does the same. Their lips meet. So soft. So warm. So tender. It feels like the first time they ever kissed. There was an innocence to that kiss, it was two boys who felt like they had so much figured out.

They were two boys who felt like somehow they could easily master the whole relationship thing that for one was a prized possession and for the other was a rare occasion. The beginning was the beginning to something that Corrie would never regret. But it was the beginning of the end.

And as quick as Devon could say Corrie, he pulls away.

Corrie's lips tingle from the way Devon's felt on his. They were so perfect. They were the same as the beginning. It was so surreal.

Devon caresses Corrie's cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb over Corrie's ever so prominent cheek bone. A tear slips down Devon's cheek, and Corrie wipes it away with his thumb. They spend a minute just looking at each other.

Maybe Jennifer was right, maybe this wouldn't be the last time they ever saw each other. At least, the same way they saw each other right now. They would still see each other around, living in the same, small Michigan city ensures that. But, it won't be the same. They would exchange small head nods with small smiles, and then keep on going with their lives.

Corrie pulls Devon into a tight hug that literally takes Devon's breath. Corrie nuzzles his face into Devon's neck. It's familiar, it's safe, and it feels so wrong. There was no way they could make it through all of this the same. Devon's arm rest on Corrie's shoulders and wrap around him.

The first boy to pull away is Corrie. His face is streaky, as is Devon's. Corrie's not surprised, Devon's always been the one to cry in front of people. Corrie's known for crying by himself when shit starts to get real.

Corrie opens the door wide for Devon. He gives Devon the worst fake smile Devon's ever received. And then Corrie gives Devon a kiss on the forehead before backing away allowing Devon to leave.

There's a silence that grows stifling. Devon doesn't want to walk out that door, but he knows he's going to. Corrie was strong enough to end it, Devon knows that he sure as hell is going to be able to be strong enough to walk out the door.

"Goodbye," Devon whispers as he walks through the open door. He doesn't bother to close it behind him.

Corrie stands in the doorway watching Devon leave.

"Please turn around," Corrie mumbles to himself. "Please."

It's like a sad movie. Corrie's eyes are trained on the floor when Devon's head turns over his shoulder to stare back at Corrie as he leaves. And when Corrie looks up, Devon's gone.

Corrie manages to close his door and stumble back to his bed. He crawls into it, and manevers himself so he's deep under the covers.

When he feels safe enough, the tears start to pour out of his eyes. Sobs rack up his chest. He can't breathe, the snot filling his nose so full he can't breathe, but he can't be bothered to blow his nose. For minutes, the only thing that can be heard in the room is Corrie's whimpers and sniffles.

Eventually, he feels his tears stop. The lump in his throat remains and so does the crushing feeling in his chest.

He needs a drink. He needs a good party. He needs cocaine. He needs a good fucking lay.

How is he going to get through this without the alcohol? Without the coke? Who the fuck was he to think that he was going to survive this?

The difference between this break up and the last four is the fact that they had a proper goodbye. The other ones they knew that they were going to end up back with each other. But, this one feels more permanent.

Corrie doesn't know how he's going to get up out of bed everyday knowing that the only person he's going to be seeing from now on is his father, and well, maybe, possibly Ophelia depending on who she's fucking at the time. He doesn't know how he's going to gulp down his goddamned pills knowing that Devon isn't going to be there for their stupid small talk and very rare make out sessions. Those were saved for when either one of them was having extremely shitty day.

Corrie's always wondered how can a person that stands in the railroad tracks when they can see a train coming be surprised by the impact of the train hitting them? How does shock course through their body? How do they scream in surprise?

That's what Corrie never got. Not until now, at least.

You can see the train coming, metaphorically or in reality, but a little nagging, hopeful voice in the back of your mind is telling you it's not going to hit you.

Yet somehow, it does. Over and over again.

Corrie drags himself from his bed. He's exhausted, but he can feel the little bubble in the bottom of his stomach pop up. Then another, and another. And, then it's boiling.

His hands are clenching into fists. His eyes are burning. His breath is growing erratic.

The rage is burning. It needs to be let go.

And so Corrie just lets it go. Just like that.

The first thing to be destroyed is his bed side table. It's kicked over, the books on the table going down with it. They sprawl across the floor. Corrie kicks one before spitting on it for good measure.

But, it's not enough. It's not enough to fulfill the rage.

The chair is next to go. Corrie hits on it, screaming at the top of his lungs. He rips at the fraying material on it until it's pulled off completely. He shoves the chair over on it's side so he can kick it some more.

Looking around for his next victim, his eyes lock onto his bed. He runs at it, shaking in anticipation.

He wrenches the sheets and comforter off the bed. The hit the ground with no noise, so Corrie screams for them. He reaches for the corner of the mattress. Then, he snatches it up and the heavy mattress feels like feathers. Corrie knocks it onto the ground.

He doesn't bother with the bed frame, knowing that it's bolted to the floor.

But, he has to try with the dresser. He uses all his might to kick it, creating a hole in it. Over and over. When his feet get tired, his hands take over.

He uses the wood like a punching bag. He feels the blood dripping down his hands. He lives for it. He laughs at it. He just keeps going. His hands grow numb to it. When he has eventually taken most of the dresser out, he searches for something else.

For a brief second, Corrie forgot why he was so angry. Then, he remembered that he didn't have the alcohol, or the drugs, or the party. It gets him all fired up.

Corrie runs to the door, throwing it open so hard that is slams against the wall. He smiles viciously. He runs past everyone in the hallway to the common room. He hears the nurses footsteps coming after him. He knows that he's about to cross a line.

But he doesn't care.

When Corrie reaches the common room, he grins like he just got a puppy from Santa. He runs into the room and shoves the puzzle table over so that all the started puzzles shatter on the ground.

His next victim is the games table. He kicks it until it falls over. Then he's ravishing all the other tables. Everyone in the room is quickly escorted out by nurses who are screaming.

Corrie can't register the words. He knows that some of it is directed at him, some of it not. But he can't care.

Suddenly, Corrie's tackled. His head hits the floor with a thump. A body sits on his abdomen, pining his resisting arms down. Corrie's screaming. He's yelling bloody murder. He's kicking. He's cursing. The person never budges.

Corrie's nurse sits down next to Corrie's head. She touches his head for attention. "You're just going to feel a pinch," she whispers into his ear.

"No!" he shrieks. "Fuck! Stop! Stop!" His legs flail as he tries to escape what's coming next. "You fucking bitch! Stop! I'm going to fucking kill you! All of you fucking people! You're going to regret this!"

Corrie feels a sting in his arm. Within seconds, he feels calmer. He gives up his moving. He lays still, staring at the ceiling. He closes his eyes. His ears ring, but they also feel so empty.

Then, Corrie feels himself slipping, only this time he doesn't resist it. He embraces it, and prays to God that they keep him under forever, because that's the only way he's going to make it out alive.

__________

☒ - unedited

So, are your guys hearts as broken as mine? This hurt me to write my dudes. Will Cevon eventually get back together? Will Corrie recover from this?

Please tell me if you see any mistakes, I'm the queen of typos.

OKAY BUT THIS WAS ME WRITING THIS CHAPTER OK??

Chapter Dedication: @ItsRaye Thank you for the votes and comments! You're going to be happy because Bradley's POV is back next chapter (:

Read, vote, comment, and please share!

Next update: when i write it lol

Teaser: We're back to Bradley's POV!! He gets home from France...and that's all I'm giving you (;

Quick notes:
[ 1  ] predictions, thoughts?
[ 2 ] PM me if you need anything at all. Writing advice, advice advice, a review of my book, you want a review, you need to rant, you wanna talk about stuff. Just hit me up.
[ 3 ] twenty votes & ten comments?
[ 4 ] i love you and i'll see you soon. ♡♡