Your Voice Is My Alarm Clock (A Jon Cozart And Thomas Sanders Fanfic)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Jon Cozart's POV

I'm breathing, but I have to think about it.

I'm crying, and I don't even know it.

He's loved, and he doesn't even feel it.

I'm sitting in my room. My memory is blurred, my eyes are swimming, and head feels like lead. I'm so stuffed up it's hard to breathe, and my pulse is pounding. I pull the curtains closed, the night sky enclosing on me. I crawl into bed unshowered, wanting the outside to feel as dirty on the inside.

No matter how hard I try, I can't erase the sound of Thomas's voice in my head. I can't forget what it felt like to be in his presence, calm and positive. His freckled, flawless face ingrained into my mind.

Shivering, I pull the blankets up, then over my head. After a few minutes, the heat consumes me.

Suddenly a song plays, and I'm taken aback.

It's Thomas's song.

Maybe my song isn't happy enough but I,

I see it take flight with the snowflakes above me

My whole body freezes. My heart's pounding so hard, I think it's going to pop out of my chest. My breath shakes and my lip quivers.

There is no way, I think, There is no fucking way he called me.

I throw back my covers, whip my feet around, and I'm about to go answer it when a thought stops me.

Why the hell would he call me?

I bite my lip and think.

Let's be serious, why would he call, especially after what happened. Either Tyde's using his phone to threaten me again, or, for once in his life, he's actually gotten drunk with someone.

But something tells me it's neither, maybe he just wants to apologize, besides, it's not like Thomas to storm away from things like this.

I shake my head, knowing it has to be too good to be true, so I set my jaw and go back to bed.

Let someone else take care of him, I decide, I'm not going to rush to him whenever he feels like it.

I cover up, and, for a moment, I feel better. Proud of myself for standing up for myself. But then the emotions hit, guilt, pain, regret, and I feel lost.

I cover my ears, as if the nagging voices were coming from the outside instead of the inside. I curl up, putting my knees to my chest. Then, my breathing starts to shallow, and it gets harder to count them.

Ten, eleven, twelve...

I get to about thirty and my eyelids struggle to stay open. I lose track, and start to finally fall asleep and put all of this shit behind me. Until, that is, I'm disrupted again.

Maybe my song isn't happy enough but I,

I see it take flight with the snowflakes above me

This time I don't resist, Something has to be wrong. Without hesitation, I throw papers aside, casting shirts off the kitchen counter along with papers and garbage that never made it to it's final destination. My heart sinks when it's not there. I dash around, listening to Thomas's song, but it's nowhere to be seen.

And see you in London, or maybe in Paris

Berlin will be waiting, and so will be Rome

And maybe I'll see you again when it's snowing in Venice

And I will be on my way home

I run to the living room, and listen closely, noticing the sound is louder near the couch. I rip away the blankets and pillows. Suddenly, I hear a thunk and my phone falls to the floor. I snatch it and attempt to answer it when the song ends and the answering machine starts.

Hey this is Jon! I can't answer my phone right now for, whatever reason. Who knows? Anywho, leave me your number and I'll call you back right away! Bye.

"Jon I'm sorry," I hear Thomas slur, "I understand if you don't want to talk to me, but I'm so sorry. I was wrong about everything, and please tell me you're okay. I'm coming I'll help you I'll save-"

A mess of sound, like a fan being blown right into the speaker, I hear Thomas scream. My stomach lurches and I cover my mouth.

Beep, beep, beeeeeeeeep.