Turks Don't Cry

Author's Ranting:
I know Reno probably seems out of character but I do not care. :P
Plus, who’s to say that there isn’t more to everyone’s favorite booze loving Turk? Everyone has their masks. I don't take credit for the quote stuck randomly in there, the "We are creatures..." one. I got it from the movie Moulin Rogue. Zefler says it. Or however you spell his name. Bite me for the gramatical errors. I haven't written in a 'story' format in so long. I spend my time roleplaying, so...yeah...My paragraphs are going to look like crap.


What would they do if they ever knew that I was in love with you?

Plumes of smoke exited out through parted lips and his nostrils as he exhaled, tilting his head back to let it rest against the wall. Reno had tucked himself away in a corner, wedging himself between the entertainment center and the wall.

He crushed his cigarette out in the ashtray that was beside him which was nearly over flowing with other cigarette butts smoked previously. Hand lifted the cup of bourbon from its place beside the ashtray, bringing it to his lips. Liquor inside was quickly drained away, the glass being set down on the floor again with a heavy thud.

It’d been three days since the funeral. He had expected that his depression would have been gone by now. But it wasn’t. It had only worsened. Tseng and Elena said they understood the pain he was going through. Told him they too, had lost a dear friend and comrade. Sure, Tseng had said something about how Reno’s grief would be more painful due to Reno and Rude had been the best of friends, inseparable.

But how could they? How could they fucking being to understand the overwhelming grief he was in right now? He felt like he was drowning with no hope rescue. Features framed by scarlet tresses turned towards the wall, forehead pressing against it as Reno squeezed his eyes shut.

Rude had been more than just a best friend. They had been love. A couple, these two. So in love with each other that it would have made Romeo and Juliet jealous. More than my fucking best friend.

He would admit that had been a serious mistake. Every Turk knew that was one of the worst things you could ever do. With a job were one was constantly putting ones life on the line, love was an emotion that was best forgotten.

We are creatures of the underworld, we cannot afford to love.

But the red head had been unable to help himself. Secretly, he had needed something to help him make it through the shit hole of a world. And he had found it in Rude.

…..But…now that was gone.

Teeth bit down on his bottom lip as he turned his head, jades fixing themselves on the door of the apartment that now belonged only to him. It hit him suddenly. A reality that Reno had been trying to ignore, keeping it at the back of his mind.

He would no long see his partner come through that door ever again, complaining on how the other had always managed to sneak from work before he did. There was no more Rude, no more long nights…no more them. Breath left him in a shuddering gasp.

“Oh god…” Words fell out in a soft mumble, once smooth voice turned rough by a raw throat from smoking one pack of cigarettes one after the other. The Turk wanted to go back to his small mental shelter he had built for himself with his booze. But he couldn’t…he felt exposed like a camper whose tent hand been blown away in a horrible snow storm.

He inhaled sharply as he tiled his head back again, fixing his gaze up to the ceiling. He let it out slowly when the burning in his throat became to much to bare. But, this burning sensation wasn’t from smoking too much this time. It was accompanied by that stinking feeling in his eyes that came before the tears did.

Reno squeezed eyes shut, his face squenching up some as he did. He would not cry. Turks did not cry.

But then again…Turks weren’t supposed to fall in love either.
A hand reached up to the top of the entertainment center as his lanky form stretched out, the other hand grabbing empty cup before he pulled himself to his feet. He stumbled out of his hiding spot, foot knocking over the ashtray and spilling the contents over the wooden floor. He didn’t care though, not at the moment.

Lids would slit open just enough so he could see where he was going. Slowly, in a drunken haze, he made his way into the kitchen. Glass cup was sat down on the island in exchange for the bottle of bourbon. Empty.

Upper lip curled up as he snarled softly, throwing the bottle against the opposite wall where it shattered. Reno turned , collapsing back against the counter and sliding down. He ignored the pain that sheered through him as his back scarped against the handle of a cabinet door.

Bright emerald greens focused on the broken pieces of glass on the floor a few feet away, few droplets of amber liquid still clinging to it.

Softest of laughter came from him, a sad sort of chuckling. He supposed…there was some symbolic meaning in those broken pieces but damn it all, he too tired to try and find it. Just so tired. Wasn’t long before that quiet laughter turned into near about silent sobbing. Tears running down his cheeks, turning the marking beneath his eyes a brighter shade of red, giving it the almost appearance that they were bleeding. There was just no stopping his grief now, shoulders shaking lightly as he buried his face into his knees, wrapping his arms around them.