Glass~(jaspar)

Chapter 12

A/N: this took so long Bc school work

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When the light reached Caspar's apartment, he opened his eyes, realizing then he was still standing in front of the glass wall, his body pressed tightly against the floor, his back aching.

He propped himself up on his elbow, groaning at the pain on his back, looking over at the big, black watch that hangs on his white walls, that are currently splattered with a sticky substance that someone must've left during the party.

The clock reads the time, and let's Caspar know that he hasn't been passed out for long. Groaning, he sits up and looks straight ahead, through the glass window.

From the other apartment, the sight of Joe sleeping in the floor, in front of his own glass wall, greets him and makes Caspar's heart break just a little more.

He sighs, remembering all of last nights events. He wished he had drank more, he wished he could not remember Joe's tongue on his chest or the hurtful but true words Joe said, he wished Dan had never come, as Joe had said, and he wished he had never confessed.

Caspar wished, he wished with all of his heart and soul, he desperately wanted last night to be erased, because something had permanently shifted inside him.

He simultaneously wanted to tell everyone about the truth with Dan, he wanted to make Joe realize he meant no harm, but he also wanted to get away, away form them all.

It felt like what he wanted the most kept him back at the same time, and he wondered if he would ever have the courage to do what is right, if he would ever have the guts to tell Dan the truth, tell
Troye he broke his heart, tell Zoe she was a bitch and tell Joe he was better off without him.

But as he watched Joe sleep soundly from across the building, all he could think of is that he wanted that boy and he wanted to come clean, but he just couldn't. He could not tell them, he could never say it and let them know how much he- doesn't matter.

Slowly, Caspar got up, his muscles hurting and burning, his back killing him. He went over to his room, away from the glass wall, and took out a bottle of pills from his nightstand. Pain killers always helped ease his back pain, scoliosis was an awful thing to live with.

And so was his conscience, branded with the awful things he had done and his cowardly acts. He wondered what would happen if he came clean, he pondered over the life that awaited for him if he didn't. Both options seemed pretty awful for him: in both, he ended up alone.

Getting rid of his pants (his shirt had mysteriously disappeared last night) he made his way into his shower and turned the warm water on, trying to focus on anything but the troubles of his mind. He had to, what was done was done, he couldn't change the past.

Only the future.

Caspar sighed, feeling the hot water calm him down, washing away the alcohol and bad memories, and he stared at the dripping water in silence, sometimes wishing he could drown in his shower, and other wishing he could swim away from everything.

Inside the well lit bathroom, his phone rang, and he sneaked his hand out to reach for it, stiffly drying part of his face with a towel that needed to be washed soon, and he picked up.

"Oi" he heard a voice coming from the other line.

His world came crashing down.

"Oh, hi! What's up?" He asked, nonchalantly, trying hard not to panic. What could she want so early on?

He could almost feel her glaring through the phone "so, I noticed something yesterday" she drawled out, making Caspar feel like suddenly the water was much too cold, like maybe the walls were closing in on him, like maybe he would drown for real.