What Love Is

Chapter 18

Sorry for the delay and the shorter-ness of this chapter. Shorter-ness? Is that a thing?

I swear, when I tried to upload this about two minutes ago, I was pretty sure Wattpad would rather jump off a bridge than let me copy and paste this chapter in. Now it's working after I post a status complaining about it. Haha, good one, Wattpad! Them: 1. Me: 0.

-Brittany

He awoke in stages, the vision in front of him swirling and blurry. Everything on his body hurt. His spine was slouched against the brick building behind him, and when he attempted to move, waves of pain flew up and down his back. He groaned, sucking air through his teeth when he forced his body to move.

His fingers were completely numb. He was very convinced that there was now no circulation at all in his hands. What the hell had he been thinking?

Seth managed to move his head sideways, so he could see the form of the dumpster beside him. He blinked a few times before he stretched his jaw wide in a massive yawn. He completely agreed with the fact that sleeping in an alley beside an oversized trash bin was ridiculous, but he'd been so exhausted that even the hard ground had seemed attractive. It had felt like downy feathers and pillows when he'd passed out - now it felt exactly like the concrete it was.

It took a moment to realize that his muscles were no longer violently shaking like they had during the night, and he panicked. Seth stared down at his body, slowly working his fingers back to life, curling them in and out of his palm. He tried moving his leg, and though he couldn't feel it, he watched as it scooted across the pavement correctly. He let out a shaky sigh as he pulled himself forward and began to rub his frozen muscles. Seth desperately hoped he hadn't managed to kill himself by sitting out in the cold all night.

When he finally got sparks of feeling back in his legs, he rubbed at his arms under his heavy coat until he felt the same rush of life under his skin. Relief washed through him. He was not frozen, and he could keep walking.

Seth turned over on his knees, wincing with the effort, pushing himself up until he was kneeling and leaning against the wall for support. He braced his arm against it, wobbling on his unsteady legs for a second before his muscles bunched into action. Sparks of fire ran up and down his legs as circulation began to pump freely into his cold limbs.

When he could stand without depending on the wall, he wandered away from his sleeping spot to observe his surroundings. The alley looked so much different than it had last night, and now he could clearly see the streets on either side, bustling with cars and people. Seth narrowed his eyes in concentration as he tried to remember where he was. Disappointment crashed down on him when he realized that he had no idea.

He pulled the hood of his coat over his shaved head. It felt much different than the curls he'd kept all of his life, but it suited him much better now that he would be sixteen in a week or so. He faintly entertained ideas of hiding until December 30th, his birthday, and trying to find some work so he could support himself, but he understood very clearly that that path would be intensely hard to follow. He knew that his father and Rowan were sick with worry, but they would just need to understand. Seth needed some time to himself for a change.

Truthfully, his life was not that hard. He woke up, showered, ate something for breakfast, whether Rowan had cooked or it was just leftovers from the night before, went to school, did his homework, watched television, and played on his keyboard when he was bored. The only thing that had really gone awry was the death of his grandfather, which had hit him harder than he'd expected. When he discovered Grandpa Jack dead in his bed, his first reactions had been panic and fear until they faded into sorrow. A deep, heart-clenching sorrow that felt like his soul had been ripped from his body.