B R E A T H E

seven.

stupid. 

adjective. 

someone who is lacking intelligence or common sense.

aka troye sivan mellet. 

 was he was stupid for what he had done, the way he had acted. but something clouded his mind. he didn't know what is was. is this what connor was talking about. darkness. he had said that he knew first hand what the darkness does to someone, could this be it? could this be the darkness' doing? 

this can't be happening, not to him.

ah, but it was. it was the darkness, it was turning him. but could turning be the right word? the right phrase? he didn't know that either. all he knew was right now and right now, it was the quiet. all he knew was the quiet. the quiet was all that he knows now. 

but could that change? 

he went to his book self found the nearest notebook, opened to a random page and started writing. if he couldn't explain the ever growing darkness and quiet between himself and connor he would write it down. he stopped every few minutes, thought to himself, got another idea from the friendly demons and wrote again. 

he felt a weight being lifted off his shoulder the more he pore his heart out onto the pages. the pages were like an emotional sponge to him, soaking up every feeling or thought that had pored out of his draining soul. but his draining soul wasn't killing him, in a way it was saving him. the weight that was lifted off his shoulders lifted his spirit up, it made him happy. 

he felt himself coming toward the end of his darkened tunnel and the beginning of his lightend one. he knew that if one thing was going to finally brake connor free from his demons and bring him into the light it would be this. he had made a mistake with connor and he knew that and this would be his way of helping. behind those fading forest eyes was a lost boy, but this particular lost boy was ready to be found. troye ended his song writing the last line, looking it over and gave off one big sigh.

he wasn't going to let the demons run his life or connor's.

just tell me 

say anything

anything hurts less

than the quiet