GOLD & FLOWERS // tronnor

"smile for me?"

Bottling up things inside was never one of Connor's best feelings; and in the times he did, it was never his intention to hurt himself. Ever since he had went through his "pubescent ages", he just thought it'd be better to make sure any other person was okay without his presence or thoughts. He was just another mere human being existent for no apparent reason, living and breathing on the Earth he had spent 24 wasteful years inhabiting carelessly on. None of this mattered; in a blink of an eye he could be gone forever amongst the billions of others.

But then came along Troye. The boy who incredibly changed everything in his life; if Connor knew any better, calling him a god would be an understatement. He's the best thing that's ever happened to him, and Connor couldn't care less that he only met him through a social media platform with millions of other boys who could've swept him off his vacuous feet. But he's glad he's met him.

His head spun, his mind dazed in amazement with every look they exchanged, every touch, and every kiss. That was his best feeling. At first he didn't know if Troye felt the same, nor did he really care as he texted him from across the world, talking about their insecurities, their ambiguous words that made each other blush either way, or the fact that they didn't know they'd be able to make love with the other in the most liberating way possible. It was pure invigorating with just the brief thought, and Connor thought Troye wouldn't see that flare of interest in him - despite his comedic dirty and obnoxious remarks - and leave him once again alone in the vast, empty world.

Little did broken Connor know, he'd be the one to let him go.

Connor knew he couldn't micromanage his life with every second he had; he wasn't even halfway the expected average age until death. Age wise, he was technically considered an adult, yet his responsibilities seemed to grow every minute and he just can't find the energy or time to complete them.

That's why he was woken up the next morning by a shake of the shoulder and the uncomfortable feeling underneath him of his office chair.

"Connor?" He can hear the smooth Australian voice stir him awake, slowly fluttering opening his eyes. He blinked slowly before gasping, realizing he was sleeping on his desk and not in his bed. "Con, why aren't you in bed?"

"I-I--" Connor begins stammering, rubbing his eyes lazily as he sat up. He then becomes aware of his state and closes his eyes tightly for a brief second before looking up at the vague expression Troye had on his face. "Shit, Tr-"

"What is this?" He asks questioningly, leaning over to look at Connor's open Macbook on the desk. He moves the mouse on the dead screen and scans over the bright reflective screen. Connor, beginning to object, sighs as Troye had already let out a gasp. "Connor, this is literally all for your work. A-And taxes and fees -- how long have you been on?"

Connor shrugs, seeing there was no use of lying and looks down at the ground awkwardly. "Few hours."

"It's two pm Con, how long is a 'few hours'?" Troye presses, his hands on his waist like he was his own mother and Connor only presses his lips together, feeling how chapped they were.

"Not sure when I fell asleep," he mutters guiltily. "Around seven?"

"Seven?" Troye gasps in astonishment, his voice projecting more sorrow than anger. "Connor, that's really unhealthy, you need sleep."

"I have sleeping pills," he responds dully, looking at his pale hands and laced his fingers between them.

"Sleeping pills are dangerous, Con," his voice was still remained strangely calm but Connor didn't have the energy to question it. "How long has this been going on?

"Few weeks, but it's not a big deal Troye--"

"It is!" Troye now exclaims, seeming aggravated and upset with him, which he just shook his head to calm himself down. "You really need time to rest."