Heyyy !! I was bored and wanted to write some lore, enjoy! (TW above the writing, proceed with caution)

TW!! 

Suicide, mentions of suicide, character death, phycological torture, doomed yaoi

He laid almost motionless on the cold hard concrete ground, his eyes lidded and about to close on him. The rain left him wet and drenched. He coughed and sputtered, is this really it? He's going to go out like... This? Hit by a passing bus because if his own selfishness, wanting to die. Did he regret it now? Regret walking out into the road like this, ignoring the passerby's screams of protest? He really was an idiot. He know that he would never love him it was a lost cause. Chasing after a man who'd never choose him. He knew full well it was never going to happen. It was obvious, wasn't it? "It was obvious"

That's what he was told, it was obvious that he wasn't gay. But he still chased after him in a desperate hope that maybe, maybe it would work. Were his last moments really going to be him thinking about the rejection, the stupidity, the moments that led up to this. 

He could hear sirens, ambulances, talking, and... Him 

He heard that voice, knew it all too well to mistake it. He mustered up all that was left of his dying energy to turn his head and sure enough, it was him. He would make it his dying wish to say it one more time, one more time to say; "I love you."

He felt his vision cloud, black spots, he wasn't able to hold consciousness any longer. His eyes shut and his head fell to the side in an instant. It was over.

This was the 9,526th time he'd relived this moment, it was his punishment for being a selfish bastrd that night on the road. He'd be forced to die and come back, relive the pain over and over... He stood in the same spot as the last 9,525 times. That same familiar cafe. The same uniform, the same time, the same order, the same person. 

He looked at the table but this time, it wasn't the man he'd died so many times for. No. It was someone else. The tray in his hand, instead of harboring the usual drink and breakfast plate, had an omelette and coffee. 

Was this some sick joke played on him by the heavens? 

Or was it finally an end to the endless gruesome circle he'd been running in for decades, years, months, weeks, days, hours. Was it finally about to end... With this man? 

His hands shook on the tray, he held it loose in his grip. This had to be a joke. 

A new person.

A new order. 

A new routine. 

After 9,525 flawless performances of the same day, was it finally over? 

It felt like the world came to a stop. 

Was this on purpose? Was this man really here to save him from centuries of dread and suffering?

"Is that my order?"

Those words snapped him back to reality, he tightened his weak grip and assumed a rigid, uncomfortable demeanor as he walked closer to the man. 

He watched the man smile, before thanking him for the tray of food as he set it down on the table. 

Mavericks fingers slipped away from the tray slowly as if waiting for the man to say something familiar, anything familiar. But he didn't speak a word. 

The quiet was deafening. 

Maverick stood there, a deadpan stare at the table, the food, the unfamiliar order. 

Despite the cafè being the same, the same background characters in the same story, the same words. 

So why... Why was this man... Different? 

He turned on his heel, beginning to walk toward the large double glass doors out into the street. He stepped out into the beaming sunlight, only to be met with a shift in his reality. Instead, he was standing above... 

Himself.

His own motionless body. 

Sure he lived the moment nine thousand times. But to see it himself. 

Why did it seem so much more unbearable. 

Till a hand was placed on his right shoulder, he flinched and turned. It was the unfamiliar man,

"Sir, is everything alright?"

Maverick blinked. 

Wait. Was all of that... Fake? Did he just... Imagine that—no, no way.

End of part one ;3