It's A Hoot (mxm)

Chapter 8

"Trust me, it's going to be okay."

A hand brushed over his cheek and his eyes fluttered open to meet deep ebony. Such beautiful, sad eyes. Such a sweet and tender smile.
"Pappa," he whispered. "Please don't leave..."

The man sighed and cupped his face, slowly shaking his head. "I'll always be with you no matter what."

He reached out for him, but his fingers closed around nothing. The man vanished into smoke that curled up before disappearing altogether.

"Pappa!" He cried, but silence filled the darkness around him. He was alone.
He curled into a tight ball and the black void pressed in closer, like a weight on his chest. It became harder to breathe. The emptiness felt suffocating.

"Pappa..." He choked out. "Pappa, please. Please don't leave. Come back."
He buried his head in his hands, tucking it against his knees. "I'm sorry, I'll be good. Please come back."

Every inhale became shorter and harder. His throat felt tight, painfully so. It was like there was a vice around his heart, squeezing tighter and tighter until he couldn't breathe.

His eyes flew open wide and he gasped for air, but he couldn't breathe. His hands flew to his neck and chest, nails scraping over his skin. He couldn't breathe.
He rolled on the bed, trying not to panic, but for the love of god, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't take in enough oxygen. He was starting to see splotches of black infringing from the corners of his vision.
He closed his eyes and focused on the pounding of his heart, willing the rapid repetition to slow down. It was pounding wildly, he could hardly focus, but ever so slowly, he managed to calm it enough to keep himself from passing out.
It felt like a painfully long time before he was able to breathe normally again. He was staring up at the ceiling, lying in a cold sweat. He'd kicked his blankets off at one point, a chill creeping over his skin.

It'd been a long time since he'd had dreams like that. He could still feel the hollowness around him. Inside him.
The realization settled in.
He'd never be home again.
He'd never have a place to run to.
He'd never have a place where he felt truly safe, because home was gone.
He was alone. His dream had become a cruel reality. That, in itself, was a nightmare. His dismal world found the end of the rope.

He dropped the back of his hand over his eyes. He hadn't realized how much he really cared. It was so hard when he had never cared about anything else before.

Looking back on everything, he realized how much truth there was to that.

He pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind and forced himself out of bed.

A few days had passed since he'd started at the hardware store. Betty had allowed him to extend his stay while he finished all the paperwork for renting the cabin.
This was his last day at the bed and breakfast. Nothing very eventful happened, which he was grateful for. He saw the Alpha, Nick, and his wife hanging around the couple. He didn't see much of Alexander or Michael, nor the unnamed woman. They were all too busy.
The town itself also came to life as the days passed. More people were seen about, preparing for the annual Winter Festival. Decorations were hung outside of stores, on the trees, and adorning the streetlights.

It was foreign for him to see the town coming together and preparing to fill the streets with mirth. The cold crispy mornings dusted the forest with frost, the sky often threatened to snow, but had yet to do so, as if waiting for something. It only added to the wintery feel of the festival preparations.