Painted On

Hope

Connor

All we do is hide away
All we do is, all we do is hide away
All we do is chase the day
All we do is, all we do is chase the day

Connor closed his eyes, letting his music and the background noise of the airport take him away from reality. The song was accurate to what he was doing now. All he was doing was hiding away.

He was angry at himself for running. But he was also kind of glad he did, in the guiltiest of ways. Because at least this way he wouldn't have to face Troye. This way was easier.

Still, he didn't want to be running. He knew that he was being stupid. His mind was screaming at him to just go back and talk to Troye, to try to make things right.

That was, if Troye would even talk to him. After Connor had run away and ignored him, he wouldn't be surprised if Troye hated him at this point.

He kept thinking that if he'd just changed certain things, done them differently, he wouldn't have lost Troye. But there was nothing he could do now. What was done was done, as much as he hated his actions.

Leaving was the best option in his mind. That way, he wouldn't have to face Troye. It had been easy to get a ticket home. His mom had been overjoyed when he asked if he could come home for the weekend. She agreed to pay for his ticket almost immediately. That was an advantage of going to college away from home--if he needed somewhere to go to get away he could just go home.

All I did was fail today
All we do, all we do

Connor leaned his head back, closing his eyes. All he'd done was failed. Failed his feelings, failed himself, failed Troye.

He regretted it with every inch of his being. But it was easier than backing out now.

A hand shook his shoulder, making him take his earbuds out and look over at the person next to him.

His heart practically stopped.

"Connor," Troye said, a sad smile on his face. "Hey."

Troye was wearing a sweater, Connor's sweater, he realized, with the hood up. Connor could only see half of his face, the right half, as the other half was turned away from him and hidden in the shadows of the fabric.

"Tr-Troye?" Connor stuttered. "Why are you here? How did you... what?" He was confused. Troye wasn't mad at him for running? He certainly didn't seem upset, just sad.

"I went to your room to look for you and found the note you left for Ricky," Troye said. Connor had completely forgotten that he had a key. "I looked up flights and found the one you'd probably be on and then got a ticket. I couldn't just let you go. There was no way I could let you fly away without talking to you."

"You... booked a ticket for the sole purpose of talking to me?" Connor asked.

Troye nodded. "I had to make sure you were okay and see if I could fix my mistakes."

"Your mistakes?" Connor asked. Looking back on the night, he had come to the conclusion that he was the one at fault, not Troye. If he hadn't run and fucked everything up, they wouldn't be in this situation.

"Yeah," Troye said. "Ricky was very enlightening as to the fact that I did something to hurt you, even if I didn't know what. So whatever I did wrong... I'm really, really sorry Con. I don't know what I did, but if you tell me, I'll do whatever I can to fix it, I promise."

"Sl-slow down?" Connor stammered. "Ricky?" When he'd fallen asleep, Troye had been knocking still. What had happened after he fell asleep?

"You didn't know?" Troye asked. Connor shook his head. "Ricky came out of your room to... talk to me last night. He told me that I'd obviously hurt you, and not knowing what caused that didn't make it right. He was angry, but I understand that. I'm mad at myself, for not being able to read the situation and keep myself from hurting you. I'm sorry," Troye said, bowing his head.