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Living Without- Ryan x Naim (Leviticus 2026) *SPOILERS*

"C'mon, its getting cold." Naim's mum said as she started walking with the search parties.

"Answer me! What do you know, mum? What did they tell you?" Naim shouts, his voice echoing through the trees.

"Stop making a scene." She says as she angrily crosses her arms.

"Dad would've never done this to me." Naim blurted out, tears fogging his eyes.

"I did what's good for you, one day you'll realize that."

His mum walked away towards the car, leaving him there with tears staining his face whilst the search for Ryan happened all around him.

———

"Eat your dinner."

"M'not hungry." Naim mumbles as he stares at the plate.

"Are you going to sulk forever?" She says finally while sitting back in her chair, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, I am." Naim snaps back in a louder volume. "I love him, mum." He says as more tears start to pour down his cheeks, as if a dam broke.

"You don't love him, you're just confused." His mum said with finality.

"It doesn't matter, now Ryan's gone and you don't care how I feel."

"I don't care, not when it comes to Ryan." She says with a passive aggressive nod. "I hope he's safe, but i'm not particularly worried in if he ran away, you need separation from him to get yourself back on track."

"Back on track?" Naim says with a scoff.

"Yes, back on track. While he's gone it gives you time to find Jesus again."

"Fuck Jesus!" Naim shouts across the table, his body shaking with anger, resentment, and sadness.

"No matter what I do you'll always be devoted to a life of sin! It's ridiculous how deep Ryan's claws are into you."

"It's not about Ryan, it's about me! I'm gay, mum!" Naim continues to shout across the table. "I wasn't made gay, or tricked into feeling, I've always been gay!"

"Thats simply not true!"

"It is true! I've always had crushes on boys, even in primary school!"

"I'm not having this conversation anymore, if you don't want your dinner wash the plate off and put it away." His mum says as she gets up and walks out of the room.

"I hate you!" Naim screams from the table, the raw pain in his voice echoing throughout the house.

———

Naim's depression clouded every corner of his life like fog. He stopped going to church with his mum, stopped going to class half the time too.

If Naim wasn't hiding in his room, he was in the ol' mill, now burnt and charred but still standing. It was the only place that brought him comfort, that reminded him of Ryan. He saw Ryan everywhere he went, but he hovered in the backround most of the time.

He wanted to run away, somewhere no-one would ever find him, but he knew he had nowhere to go. Naim yearned to go find Ryan, but if he was still alive there was no telling where he could possibly be, or if he'd still even want him after what he'd done.

———

After three months of Ryan being missing, the police declared that he was presumed dead.

“Naim.” His mum says softly as she sits at the end of his bed, looking over at him.

“Whatever you’re thinking of saying about it, don’t. I’m not interested in your pity towards me.” Naim deadpans as he refuses to even make eye contact with her.

“His parents are holding a small service for him, they told me at church this morning.”

“Are you going to go?” Naim asked with a sigh.

“I’ll never understand what happened between you and Ryan, but I know you’re sad, and if going to his memorial helps you grieve just a bit easier then I’ll go with you.”

“I couldn’t survive a service.” He muttered as he picked at his fingernails.

“Just think about it.” She says before getting up and walking out of his bedroom.

Naim couldn’t wrap his head around it, the fact that Ryan was gone, that Hunter was gone. It wasn’t just a lookalike following him anymore, it was guilt, responsibility, fear, all joined under a blanket of exhaustion that weighed down his bones.

———

The service was strange, it made Naim question if Ryan’s parents liked him at all. They had odd pictures of him, none that showed his personality or smile, not even a smirk. Ryan looked the most handsome when he wore a cheeky smirk on his lips.

After a couple of minutes Naim got up, walking out the front door while his mum followed behind.

“Naim, where do you think you’re going?”

“Mum I just… I need some time to myself for a second.”

His mum sighed. "Okay, just don't go far." She said before turning and walking back into the house.

———

Naim walked all the way from Ryan's home to the mill, one foot dragging after the other like muscle memory.

He missed Ryan, missed his face, his smirk, the way he held him without reservation.

At the mill, Ryan walked up to him, wearing that same blue and orange tank. Naim knew it wasn't Ryan, but the soothing feeling he felt seeing him, even if he knew it wasn't real, felt euphoric.

"Naim." Ryan says as he steps closer.

Naim sighed, looking over at him. "I know it's not really you." He said quietly.

"Well I don't know that it's you either, do I?" Ryan says with a huff of frustration.

Naim moved to the middle of the mill, sitting on the floor. "No, guess you don't." He said as he glanced at his hands, now adorned with Ryan's various silver rings.

Ryan came and sat by him, nudging him with his shoulder. "Lot of memories here." He murmured as he looked around for a minute before returning his eyes to Naim. "Why'd you do it?"

"What?"

"Why'd you tell?"

Naim sighed as he looked at his hands. "I was upset, immature." He said as he shook his head. "It doesn't matter, I'm still upset, and just slightly less immature."

Ryan leaned his head on Naim's shoulder, nuzzling into his neck. It felt good, to be touched by Ryan, even if he knew deep down that it wasn't Ryan.

"I miss you." Naim murmured as he looks down at Ryan.

"I missed you too, but I'm here now." Ryan said as he ran his hands up Naim's chest, under his suit jacket while he messed with the buttons of his dress-shirt.

Ryan pushed him down to lay on the floor. Naim knew what was about to happen, because it always did, but he accepted it as he relished in the touch, if just for a second he could feel whole again.

As if on a schedule, Ryan's hand snaked up Naim's body and wrapped around his throat. Naim gasped for air, if just for a second, before just looking at Ryan. The constriction on his throat got tighter and tigher, till it was unbearable. He felt dizzy, lightheaded, and nauseous, but didn't make any serious attempts to escape the hold. Ryan slammed Naim into the concrete over and over, clawing his body with the free hand.

After a minute, Ryan reached to grab a stone, presumably wanting to bash Naim's face with it. Naim finally reached down to his jacket pocket, pulling out a lighter and sparking a flame. Ryan tumbled back, letting out this blood curdling scream as he writhed on the floor.

Naim moved to leave the mill, climbing out the window before looking back inside.

"I forgive you." Ryan said as he stood in the middle of the mill.

"No, Ryan doesn't forgive me." Naim said whilst shaking his head, before turning away from the window and heading home.

He flicked the lighter on and off as he drug his feet home, the dizziness still ever present with the ache in his stomach, his wounds, and his soul. About halfway there, the lightheadedness was getting to him, so Naim sunk down to the grass and sat there for a moment, breathing in the fresh air of the day as the sunset shone upon him.

The deep cuts on his chest, neck, and stomach bled profusely, but none of that compared to the pounding ache splitting through the back of his head, blood trickling down the back of his shirt collar from his head.

Naim pulled out his phone for a moment, trying to dial Ryans number but it went straight to voicemail. He took a deep breath and then recorded his message after the beep.

"Aye, it's Naim." He started, "I didn't listen, went near the thing that looked like you even though I knew it wasn't." He mumbled.

"Bleedin' a lot but just wanted to say sorry, and that I love ya'." Naim said before he clicked hang up.

Naim's mum was diligent about finding him, but she was just a tad too late. He was found sat against the fence post, blood covering his torn clothes, and caked at the back of his skull.

When he was discovered by a passerby he was already gone.

Investigators tried to keep his mum from the gory scene, but she managed to get past anyway to look at her son’s blood drenched body. The awful scream she let out was unlike anything anyone had ever heard.

"They shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them." She said as she shook with the force of her tears.

“My baby.” She said as she sunk to the ground, inconsolable.

monitoring you, like machines do.

art of my sherlock adaptation. recording depictions is meant to clue to moriarty watching her. the 20:13 tag is the title of my adaptation! i'm actually working on a reference for sherlock now and will get to watson once i finish that. but! sherlock is actually reading a book about marie curie as i thought it fitting.

#sherlock holmes #vienna art #the adventures of sherlock holmes #20:13 sherlock #20:13 #sherlock adaptation

Was I going somewhere with this?

#oc: byron #rosykim #mind blind button #mind blind #sketch #i think my brain was trying for regency #20:13

Ya bir de umut olmasa..

Evet, umut var.

İçimde bunun hep aksini söyleyen korkuya rağmen var.

ACZ

#cahit zarifoğlu #yedigüzeladam #20:13 #umyray #photography

Güneş Demir parmaklık ardına sıkışmış girer cama bulutlarla mavilerle – anılarla yıllarla – tek bir serçe geçer – pırıltılarla : “handedir vay” batar beton ardında. Sarı. Mavi.

#oruç aruoba #20:13