Firefly (boyxboy) (step-brothers)

37

116, 117, 118, 119.

His vision was blurry, but Jayden kept his eyes open and stayed put, holding his breath and counting the seconds.

120, 121, 122, 123, 124.

The water was somewhat soothing, like a comforting blanket hugging him from all around, trying to ease the pain and humiliation the previous night had provided, as well as the morning when he'd been forced to put the bedding ensemble in the washing machine.

129, 130, 131.

His brain began to beg for air but he refused to give in, his grip against the acrylic material of the bathtub tightening.

138, 139, 140.

He wasn't sure he'd ever held his breath this long before. It's not like he'd tried. One more second, he kept telling his brain which had risen to a crescendo of screams.

Just one more second.

Staying true to himself, a second later he gave into his body's demands and resurfaced, his burning lungs gasping for breaths.

His experiment had failed.

The feelings were still there, apparently stronger than his body's primitive need for oxygen. Jayden got out of the bathtub and dried himself off before leaning his hands against the sink with a heavy sigh. He was so fucking tired, so utterly drained of any energy. Yet his brain had refused him more than three hours of sleep. All because the bed had been empty, apart from himself. He stared back at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and dark circles surrounded them. Being this exhausted, however, made him less anxious about the fact that he'd decided to skip school. He found his way back to his bedroom and put on a pair of grey sweats and a white wife beater. His phone started ringing and he stopped midmovement, the shirt only halfway down his chest. He glared at his phone, already knowing which name had appeared on the screen.

Nate.

Jayden would've shut off the phone, could he have just remembered his Goddamn password. His phone probably hadn't been shut off for, like, half a year, always being charged during the night ready to be used come morning. He let the call go to voicemail and was about to leave when something deep inside him got the better of him. He grabbed his phone and wandered out to the living room. He slumped down on the couch and unlocked his phone.

Wow, must be popular, he mused humorlessly, scrolling through the hundred or so missed calls. Most were from Nate, of course, but some were from his friends. He should probably call them, but he just didn't have any energy for that. Besides, what was he supposed to tell them? I'm sorry, but I couldn't come to school since I didn't get any sleep because Nate's away. Oh and yeah, the two of us sleep in the same bed every night... yeah right, as if.

He went to his messages instead, the urge for some sort of contact with his stepbrother growing too strong to ignore. He began to read through the messages.

19:05: Jayden, I'm so sorry about this

19:19: Please answer my calls

19:33: I can stay on the phone with you all night

20:01: Jayden, answer me

20:15: Come on, answer the phone!

20:36: Jayden!

20:56: I won't stop until you answer me.

The texts went on well into the night. Three o'clock to be more exact, where Nate had written a final one.