little strings | boreo

Ch. 4

When Theo woke in the morning, Boris was gone. almost like he had never been there in the first place. it stung, of course. the kind of low sadness you get as you awake from a sweet dream you almost thought was real. 

     But what was Boris if not just a sweet dream? What was Boris if not fading as the day went on? Theo should have known to be prepared. always be prepared for the After. Because there was always an After Boris. like a hurricane rushing through one's life, Boris left a path of destruction behind him. 

     So Theo wandered around his apartment like a ghost, unsure what to do. Perhaps he was picking up the rubble from hurricane Boris. he thought at this point he was rubble.

     Eventually he wandered into the kitchen for something to eat, scanning the fridge and cabinets. they were all empty of course. When was the last time he went shopping? When was the last time he even ate anything at all? When was the last time he felt hunger? When- 

     "Potter! I got croissants!" Boris cried as the door to Theo's apartment burst open. He held two small paper bags in the air and smiled triumphantly. Theo jumped, scrambling to catch his balance against the counter. 

     "Boris what are you-" he stopped mid sentence and stared at Boris for a moment before laughing lightly. He felt... what? surprised? maybe. relieved? he thought so. Maybe dreams didn't fade so quickly. He walked up to the man in front of him, wrapped his arms around his waist, and buried his face in the black fabric of his trenchcoat. 

     "Thank you. for coming back I mean," his voice muffled. Boris didn't say anything at first, just resting his hand on theos lower back and sighing. Then, he pulled away and grinned. 

     "Come, Potter let us eat. I hear New York croissants are very good." and so, they ate.