Better ---- Silent hill 4 Henry x Walter fanfiction

BETTER

Was there anything weird about my room? Not sure, just not sure yet. But I sure as Hell know there's something wrong with that man.

Nothing had been added or taken away from what I unpacked the day I got here, I wasn't much for home decorating. But I just needed to know if there was something different or special about my apartment in particular. I wasn't acquainted with the other people who lived in the apartment yet, so I couldn't just go up and ask someone to let me in their living space, but was there something different about my room? No, no probably not. I was letting it all get to me, yes yes it was surely all in my head. Still it had a strange air, almost a sickly air. Or maybe it was just too hot at night, actually it was very hot at night, and it smelt weird in different places in the apartment and- well it was a lot more noticeable after he met Walter, before they where just silly little after thoughts, nothing to think over too much at all. It had to be my fault the home was like this, it just had to be. Even if I came here with it in this condition, it just had to be my fault. So what, maybe the guy- Walter, really was born in here. I didn't know the details but sure maybe it did really happen, I could assept that. But even then why did it feel so haunted?... homes don't become haunted after the birth of someone, no that was ass backwards. Maybe... maybe the man's mother died in the process, that happens. I should have asked Walter right after he told me he was born here, but I was just so surprised I couldn't even think. And he didn't stay long after that either. After that we rested a little while longer, himself seemingly in deep thought, then he got up got dressed, I offered him food but he declined. But the part I remember most was him taking one last look around then turning back to me and saying "See you around, when it's time again." And he was gone, just like that.

It's been a little over a month now. Now hair nor hid of him about.

It was strange, just moving on like that. Everything about that was strange. Things felt strangely lonely without that man there anymore. Though it really shouldn't, it'd only seen him a very few times. Maybe it had something to do with the strangeness of it all, or maybe it was the fact that they shared a bed... I tie generally not to think about that too hard, it's new and sort of embarrassing to even think about. Almost like someone was soon going to find out what we did, and the dread of having someone else know freaked me out. I had to remind myself that I was a adult. It was time to force myself to move on, today I had plans and I was trying to not only out that incident behind myself, but another more long lasting problem as well. I still worked the same job that I had been doing since I've gotten here. It was going fine, though since I wanted to keep the money I had saved up before I got here, I didn't allow myself to spend any of what I had left after I started making money from my job, so I was really cutting it close now. The rent was of course very cheep, but still it ate up almost all of my newfound bad budget, so I actually had to eat as poorly as I normally like too. But all of that was just food for thought, I really didn't care either way as long as was afloat. I didn't need cheep entertainment or meaningless items to try and keep me around. The only thing besides photography that I enjoyed doing was reading. I didn't read anything too word heavy or long. I actually liked my novels about the story length of a movie. Mainly I read spy stories, detective and or general law stories, and or sometimes a western, but I really only ever read westerns because I grown up around old 1940s western movies my dad watched, he was always into those things. Stuff like that. I like a good but still mild mystery, one that I could read halfway through and not finish by the time I have to go to bed and back to work, and I can think about it as I mindlessly do my daily tasks till my itch is scratched by nighttime. And tomorrow night I can start the hole thing over again. I didn't hold onto any novel long unless it was special to me somehow, didn't even need to be a good one, just a special one. Like for example, one time I was reading a short novella about two female detectives in a park one evening, back when I was 19 and still didn't have anywhere stable to go (like now, but without a chose in it.) Just going from high school's friend's house to high school friend's house. Then while I was reading a pretty girl probably quite a bit younger then me, actually honest to God flirted with me. Not that anything happened from that, it was just a nice memory. So I kept the novel with me. And another time I read this novel about a young man trying to get he's young sister across southern America during the civil war, and I read that book the first night I spent in a vacation town called Silent hill, my first ever vacation in my life. Just general good memories like that. I never kept any with bad memories though, didn't help to hold onto it... But normally I sold the books I didn't keep. I don't like throwing things away. If I was a little more outgoing I'd just outright ask random people of they wanted the darn things. If only, if only.