Honey

29. Why Is The Bottle Empty?

"You have vodka don't you?" Thomas asks the moment the door is shut behind him. I turn the lock before turning to look at him quizzically. What happened to 'hey' or 'how are you?' This wasn't the Thomas I was used to. I know that to be certain. He looks exhausted. Did he run here or something? No, of course not, he's not even sweating.

"Yeah, why?" I question, finally realising what he actually asked me. Why would he want vodka? And to ask it so urgently. As if the substance was some long lost friend of his.

My eyes finally meet his and I internally gasp at the sight before me. It's obvious that he is trying his best to hold back an onslaught of tears. But why? What could happen to make him like this? He's usually so bubbly.

I mentally prepare myself to have to murder someone for making him even have to shed a single tear.

"What happened?" I ask him cautiously, my tone laced with concern as I inch towards him slowly. He doesn't back away which I take as a good sign. I smile reassuringly at him as I take his trembling hands in mine. A single tear runs down his cheek at the action and I can tell he's close to breaking down. His bottom lip trembles and I bring up one of my hands to cup his face gently, wiping away the stray tear as I try to comfort him as much as possible with my softening gaze.

"What's wrong Thomas?" My voice is slightly more demanding but my soft and comforting tone hides it almost entirely. A sense of worry consumes me when more tears fall onto his beautiful face, his eyes glistening like chandeliers.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me baby. Do you want to tell me?" I try to sound as patient as possible as I slowly die on the inside at his lack of response. I want so badly to know why the boy I love so dearly is suddenly so broken. I have to know what did this.

"I-I don't th-think-" he stutters, his voice a low, trembling whisper. I release his hands and they fall to his sides lifelessly. I cup his face with both hands now and use the pads of my thumbs to caress his tear stained cheeks. A broken sob leaves his slightly parted lips and in a flash he's shattered to pieces.

"Hey, hey, it's ok baby, it's ok, I'm here. Just breathe baby, breathe," I coo, taking deep, even breathes to assure him he's safe. He doesn't seem to believe me though.

The tears don't stop. In fact, there is more and more of them every second. Broken sobs rack his body and I feel my heart break for him over and over again as he struggles to hold himself up, most of his weight shifting to me.

"Come on, let's go, come on," I state as calmly as possible, wrapping an arm around his waist to lead him towards the kitchen. He doesn't fight thankfully and just leans on me as he continues to break down, his cry's echoing throughout the empty house. I try relentlessly to hold myself together.

No, don't be selfish Billy. Thomas needs you. Don't let your emotions get the better of you. Don't fucking cry. Don't cry because he's crying and if you're both crying then it'll just be a fucking shit show. Don't cry.

A single tear runs down my cheek. No more. That's all I allow.

I have to be strong for him. He'll tell me. He just needs to calm down. He'll be ok. He's all that matters now. Everything else might as well not even exist anymore. He is all I can care about right now.

He's too important to lose.

He's too happy to be this sad.

He's too loud to be this quiet.

I'm too fearless to be this scared.

"It's ok baby, here," I say, hopping up onto the marble counter top on the kitchen island. Now that I'm sitting on it we're finally face to face. I don't have to look up at him anymore. I spread my legs and he immediately steps closer to me and I wrap my legs around his waist. I slide my arms around his neck and his once motionless arms somehow manage their way around my waist.