"sy, you dont understand. i would forfeit a 25 second race lead if it meant i got to talk to you again."
. . .
"oh."
in which. . .
sylas comes back into oscar's life, all rippling muscle and perfect grace, and oscar no longer knows what to do with...
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I'm what's left of when we Swam under the moon Now the rest of my days are just Waiting for when You come down and tell me I was meant for you, baby Being with you Makes the flame burn good
i don't smoke • mitski
PLUNGE Volume 0.1 Repellent
Mar 29th, 2020
Oscar tried to be there for Sylas. He really did. Through hospital visits and surgeries, through physical therapy and days spent rotting at home. Oscar tried to be there every step of the way.
Oscar's racing greatly hindered his ability to show his love for Sylas at every given opportunity, but if he wasn't there in person, he was there on the phone. He was always there on the phone, so many hours spent on call he was sure his bill was through the roof at that point.
Yet, try as he might, there was some invisible barrier between him and Sylas, and he didn't know when the bricks had begun being laid or how to stop the construction process now that the wall was already halfway built.
He felt like sometimes they would be together and it was suffocating. His jokes fell flat and the smiles that Sylas gave him felt so fake it was painful. He then opted to sit in silence with the diver, who scrolled on his phone endlessly, but that just meant that they barely spoke, and that just meant the distance & tension became insurmountable.
He tried his very hardest not to blame anyone, but he couldn't help the little cloud of resentment that ebbed away at his resolve, slowly changing his view of Sylas. He suppressed those feelings in favor of reminding himself why he was here. His best friend was going through the hardest time in his life, and any off behavior could probably be attributed to the fact that the boy was unable to do the thing he loved and was now going to have to work extremely hard to get back to a place where he could. Oscar couldn't imagine being unable to race, but he could imagine that the dreadful feeling he got just thinking about it was the same one Sylas was having to wake up to every day.
This is Sylas' reality, he reminded himself, day in and day out, on silent phone calls, in silent hospital rooms, staring at Sylas' back as he lay facing away from the Aussie.
Sylas felt the guilt in his stomach spread like something carcinogenic with every turn of his head, with every non answer he gave to the Aussie. It wasn't Oscar's fault, no, of course it wasn't. But it was very much unavoidable, when with Oscar, for Sylas to try and push him away. If he hadn't been feeling certain things deep in his bones before, then the gentle scoops of fed pudding and the fluffing of his pillows from the ever-caring Oscar were only feeding the butterflies in Sylas' stomach.
