Traffic Lights ✓(tronnor)

5. ice crystals♡

We are walking to Connor's publisher, to get some fresh air. Our hands are once again intertwined. It's cold, freezing cold. I notice the tiny white ice crystals on the frozen grass. We are taking the way without traffic lights, it's longer, not relatively though. Connor knows how insane traffic lights can make me. I still seem to see them everywhere. I close my eyes, I don't want to see them. I hold onto Connor for support, he doesn't seem to notice. I hear footsteps in the rhythm of the day, a pattern I still can't seem to be able to walk. My husband needs my support and I know I can't give it to him. The remaining question is; does he know I can't give it to him? What will happen if he finds out? He will probably leave me, and if I were him I would leave me too, the only thing I can do is procrastinate that moment from happening. We arrive at the grey building where his publisher is founded. We sit down on the steps in front of it. 'Con..' I say at the tone in which I always start this conversation. 'Not now, Tro' he looks at me with empathy, and then to the ground to drown in his own thoughts again. He knows what's bothering me, but he can't handle it now. It was pretty unfair of me to say anyway. I immediately feel guilty about it, I gaze at the ground and play with the fingertips of my mittens. 'Sorry' I say softly, loud enough so he could hear it, soft enough so nobody else would hear it. We smile a sad smile to each other. The publisher walks outside. 'Franta Sivan... ' she starts off angrily. Then she notices me, her facial expression changes. Lucy has always had a thing for me. 'Troye' she says softly and happy. She opens her arms to give me hug. Connor pulls me towards him. 'Don't even bother' he tells her. She raises her eyebrows but stays away. I smile an awkward sorry. Lucy turns around and walks us to her office, her desk is as always covered with papers and pens are laying everywhere except in the pencase. Her computer is covered in notes. She laughs awkwardly. 'Water?' she asks as she tries to make room on her desk, shoving papers off it, which creates a bigger mess as a whole. I shake my head 'No, thank you' I say. 'Whiskey?' Connor asks with a sad smile, pretending it's a joke. I poke him in his flank. Lucy looks at me, weirded out. 'He's kidding' I say while shaking my head lightly. We take place at her desk, she sits in front of us with her hands crossed over each other. 'Franta, truly, you're a master. But when the critics don't reward, the money doesn't either' she says in a painful: this-is-what-it-is-and-I'm-totally-trying-to-eyesex-your-husband manner. Connor nods slowly, 'What do you want me to do?' he asks defeated, knowing that this is his only way out. Lucy clears her throat. 'Don't give up, because you can do it.'