PTX Oneshots

Midnight

All Mitch had to do was stand on the balcony at midnight, count every individual star with such concentration, and hum the notes of his favorite song to pull Scott's life together.
---------------------------
11:06
He could be considered a broken man.
He came home that night with an empty bottle of beer in his left hand and a steering wheel in his right, tears pouring like rainfall down his face, breaths he tried to keep silent louder than he had ever intended.
The biggest challenge was to explain why.
Why he couldn't stop himself from crying.
Why everything felt to be falling apart.
He didn't know the answers himself. All he knew was that it, whatever it was, hurt.
It was a bright night and the sky was a rich violet, but Scott Hoying felt like it was raining.
---------------------------
11:14
He stumbled blindly up the stairs, not bothering to turn on the lights.
He felt only the darkness could sympathize with the overwhelming amount of grief he felt at that very moment.
His feet felt heavy and his chest rose and fell every time he tripped, his heart skipping a beat.
He felt his eyelids begin to droop by the time he had reached the top of the steps.
And then there was light.
Faint, but there.
It was but the smallest pinprick of white amongst the darkened hallway, but it seemed to flood his mind with wonder that anyone was still awake.
Scott blinked a few times, slowly but surely making his way to the source.
The source was in Mitch Grassi's room.
---------------------------
11:23
He wasn't in the room.
Scott was astounded at the state it was in.
With clothes lying here and there, chairs overturned, and an oddly calm Sphinx cat to top it all off, it was rather unsettling.
Wyatt purred and seemed to smile up at him slyly when he went to stand over him.
But Wyatt wasn't who he was looking for.
And so the search continued.
Darkness engulfed him once again as he stepped out of the room with a hefty sigh.
He should be asleep, but instead he was roaming, buzzed and deadweight, looking for his best friend.
The question still lingered in his mind.
Why.
But then the questions had changed ever so slightly.
Why was he still awake?
Why wasn't Mitch in his room?
It was his mission to find out before the night ended.
---------------------------
11:36
There he was.
The glass door was open just the slightest, dainty fingerprints almost invisible, but nonetheless there in the soft glow of the moon.
And he was on the balcony.
His hair was pushed to the side of his face as it always was, but this time, bathed in silvery moonlight, he looked more serene.
His pointer finger moved ever so slightly as he leaned on the railing, the notes of 'New Year's Day' barely audible.
His chin gently up turned and tilted to the glittering stars that danced in the sky which had darkened, palettes of grey and blue and purple merging like on a canvas to form the most gorgeous night Scott had ever witnessed.
He had stopped crying, the alcohol buzz was gone, and all he felt was wonder.
He leaned against the doorframe and watched as his best friend counted the stars and his eyes glittered like nothing else in the world mattered.
---------------------------
11:45
He coughed.
Mitch's head whipped around, snapping out of his trance, pupils dilating, but then softening when he saw who it was that had coughed.
"What now?" he had asked, words speaking of disinterest, but undertone speaking worlds of worry and understanding.
"Alex." Was all he had to say in response.
He cocked his head, as if to listen carefully, but upon closer inspection, his mind churned with words he couldn't fully express.
Then he turned back to the sky and watched.
He watched the twinkling points of light that flitted about the sky, then grabbing Scott's arm to pull him close, leaning on his shoulder.
He began to make a noise of protest, but Mitch shushed him.
"Look." He said, pointing at nothing.
---------------------------
11:52
They stood there for what felt like an eternity as Mitch counted the stars, not one being forgotten or left behind.
And he hummed.
His other hand, the one that wasn't pointing at the velvety sky, reached out and twisted his fingers with Scott's, still no words coming out of his mouth.
And Scott began to cry.
"Why?" Was all that Mitch asked.
And it was back. The question that haunted him since he had returned home almost an hour ago, and he hung his head.
"I don't know." He responded.
"That's a lie."
"It is."
"So why?"
The tears had returned, streaking down his cheeks and glistening in the darkness, a stark contrast to the pale of his skin.
"Because he left so easily. And he didn't apologize. And I didn't stop him. And he's gone."
Then they stood, basking in the light of the moon, a gentle breeze wafting and threading through their hair.
And Mitch leaned in.
---------------------------
12:01
They were asleep.
They rested on the wall, hands still intertwined.
Mitch's head still resting on Scott's shoulder.
Their legs tangled together.
And the tears that slid down his face drying in the wind.
It was bittersweet, like most things that night.
There wasn't a person there to tell them to stop.
But Scott smiled, his lips so softly upturned like those of a happy child.
Why?
It was because Mitch's breath tasted like an orchard.
It was because his fingers were so soft wrapped around his own.
It was because he was warm.
It was because his lips were kissable and sweet.
Even asleep, his grin lingered. Even passed out on a wall.
Even with Alex gone, and his world falling apart, all Mitch had to do was stand on the balcony, count the stars, and hum a song ever so quietly to pull it back together with a needle and thread.