The rain hadn't stopped for days. It poured relentlessly, soaking the city in a steady downpour that seemed as endless as Ocean's own turmoil. The dull ache in his body hadn't faded either. He had spent the past two days lying in bed, feverish and exhausted, trapped in a cycle of restless sleep and hazy thoughts.
Skyler's words haunted him.
"I care about you, Ocean. I always have."
Ocean had tried to push them away, tried to bury them deep under layers of anger and frustration, but they refused to leave him alone. Every time he closed his eyes, he could hear Skyler's voice, soft and steady, breaking through the cold silence Ocean had wrapped himself in.
He was too tired to fight it now. His body ached, his throat burned, and the fever had left him dizzy and weak. He had barely been able to get out of bed all day. The rain outside was just another reminder of the storm brewing inside him.
As the afternoon dragged on, Ocean lay on his side, staring blankly at the rain-spattered window. The world outside felt distant, muted. He hadn't gone to school, hadn't left his apartment in two days, and his phone had remained untouched on the bedside table. He hadn't heard from anyone. Not that he expected to.
He closed his eyes, trying to quiet his mind, but his thoughts were relentless. Skyler had come back. He had come back, but why? Why did he care?
Ocean didn't have the energy to keep wondering. He just wanted to sleep, to let the weight of the fever pull him under so he wouldn't have to think anymore.
But sleep wouldn't come.
The sudden sound of knocking jolted Ocean from his daze. At first, he thought he had imagined it. The knocking was muffled by the rain, but it was persistent. Firm. Ocean groaned, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. He wasn't in the mood for visitors—whoever it was could go away.
But the knocking continued, growing louder. More insistent.
Ocean's eyes fluttered open, and with a groan, he forced himself to sit up, his head spinning. He dragged himself out of bed, feeling the weight of his fever pulling at his limbs. As he stumbled toward the door, the knocking turned into banging—loud and urgent, like someone was pounding with their fist.
Ocean's heart sank as realization hit him.
It's him.
He hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob. For a split second, he considered not answering—just letting Skyler pound on the door until he gave up and left. But something in Skyler's knock told him he wouldn't leave. Not this time.
With a deep breath, Ocean opened the door.
There stood Skyler, drenched from the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead, water dripping from his jacket onto the floor. His eyes locked onto Ocean's, wide with concern, and without waiting for an invitation, he stepped inside.
"Ocean, what the hell?" Skyler's voice was a mix of worry and frustration as he shut the door behind him. "You look like death. Why didn't you answer your phone? Why didn't you—" His words trailed off as he looked Ocean up and down, taking in his pale face and the dark circles under his eyes.
Ocean's heart raced, the room spinning slightly from the fever and Skyler's sudden presence. He hadn't expected Skyler to show up here. Not like this.
"I didn't know you were coming," Ocean muttered, his voice weak, throat sore from days of coughing.
Skyler's face softened, his expression torn between anger and something gentler. He stepped closer, but Ocean instinctively backed away, his walls shooting up again. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to face Skyler like this, with the remnants of their last conversation still hanging between them like broken glass.