Lachambers- Forbidden

9

At first Chris's doubts over Gordie's ability to get him out of this...situation were slim to none. He even audibly scoffed when the thought first popped into his head, kicking that idea out of his brain and soon forgetting it.

But after three days and a whole lot of nothing to eat, the idea once again knocked against his skull, asking to be let in again. And once Chris accepted the possibility that this was it, the idea unceasingly tormented him.

The boredom that seeped into Chris's head only made matters worse. So to keep itself entertained, his brain had gotten quite creative in torturing itself, with thoughts like

There's nothing Gordie can do for you.

Maybe if you didn't steal every goddamn day your life would actually mean something.

Or the worst one.

Gordie has already moved on.

And now, almost a week into his confinement, Chris was sure Gordie was in a whole other country getting married to some random girl he hadn't even spoken to.

Great.

...

Chris had been attempting to fall asleep for about an hour. But it was hard to not let his guard down and fight off the shivers that would rack his body whenever an icy nighttime breeze would fly through the building.

Chris hated the nights the most. It was extra cold, extra lonely and depressing. The prison 'bed' felt like laying on an oversized brick. It was also creepily quiet at nights, but in a strange way, Chris found comfort in it. In some instances he would pretend like the world and everyone in it had paused except for him.
This was one of those nights. And before he knew it, the faint image of Gordie had snuck into his mind.

It both comforted and hurt Chris to think about that little brunette boy and his perfectness. Those stupidly cute wide chocolate eyes that Chris would see every night in his dreams. Gordie's loud unfiltered laughter and the flawless smile that went with it.

It felt like centuries ago that he and Gordie were lazily kissing underneath that tall oak tree without a care in the world. He'd do anything to return back to that moment just for a second.

Gordie had looked so pretty that day. He always looked pretty, but there was something different about seeing him so carefree.

Chris huffed dramatically. Everything about Gordie was cute.

"Chris?" A small mousey voice peeped.

"Yeah?" He answered the unfamiliar voice. He didn't really care who the hell it was coming from, or if it was even real. Chris wouldn't be surprised if his mind began playing tricks on him. Besides, no one had spoken to him the entire time he'd been locked up, not even during the spontaneous check-ins with the usual guy who guarded the place. He'd talk to anyone at this point.

"It's me." Chris sat up. The voice was still a whisper and now that Chris was actually listening to it, he could tell it was far away.

"Teddy? Did they station you over here or something?" Chris asked into the darkness.

"Ew, no."

Chris jolted up on his feet and to the bars of his cell, trying to peek around the pitch black corner to see where the hell the familiar voice was coming from.

"How can you not tell the difference between me and Teddy?" The voice was drawing closer.

"Gordie?!" Now that he could really hear the hints of sass in the person's voice, he immediately knew who it was.