Love Overcast // (ManxMan)

=Chapter 27=

A/N: When Skylar is being positively crazy and you're just there like...

[Lance]

Idiot...

How could he just let the sharp edges slice his skin and act like it's nothing?! What the fuck was he thinking? I know he isn't the smartest kid in school, but some common sense would be a life saver...

"Taylor." I brush pat his shoulder, making his body jerk the opposite direction before recoiling back into place as he just stares at the ground with his head hung low and legs spread out as he leans against the back of the couch. "Taylor..." I shove him a little once again.

At this point, I am desperate. I've seen him like this so many times, almost every day of the first couple of months. Always in a trance of sorts, nothing could pull him out. His fists are still clenched, but without the sharp ceramic as I pried it out of his hands forcefully, giving myself a decent cut as well. "Tay, please..." I grab his bicep and shake a little. Nothing.

I'd do anything to just make him look up, at least let me treat him; disinfect his cut and wrap it up. It's the only thing I can fix right now. I can't say 'it will be fine' because it's not fine, none of this is fine. He is definitely not fine. The only thing threading him to reality is Skylar and it makes me feel very helpless in his equation.

"Tay, let me look at your palm. I'll be quick, I promise." Please just look at me... I grab the first aid kit quickly, kneeling down beside him as I quietly lay the small case on the floor. Skylar walks out of the bathroom with a dustpan, he hands it to me with a heart wrenching sad smile and sits next to Taylor.

As if a trigger snapped, Taylor immediately latches onto Skylar. Pulling Skylar into his chest and burying him with his hunched body. His back shakes as he lets out his first sob, injured hand laying uselessly on the back of Skylar's T-shirt. The blood seeps from the wound into the fabric, feathering out into a circular stain.

"M'sorry..." Taylor gasps and holds Skylar tighter, his thighs circling around Skylar's waist, effectively encasing him. Skylar's hands look tiny against the expanse of my nephew's back, but none of it deters him from smoothing out the wrinkles of Taylor's shirt and calming his sharp jagged breaths.

"You do deserve Brason." Skylar says in a hushed voice. The comment was velvet on steel taken straight to Taylor's heart, he curls even more. It's like Brason's name is poison to him, except I know it's anything but poison. "You are best friends. You love him."

I gently take Taylor's hand and flip it over, blood smeared all over his hand and Skylar's shirt. Skylar doesn't seem to care at all, just keeping up his encouragement. The gash is bad but not enough to warrant stitches. I take the chance to clean up and disinfect. The moment I touch the alcohol to his hand, Taylor screams the loudest I've heard him do.

Tears accompany his tirade of gasps. "Don't discredit yourself. You make the most out of a bad situation. You are awesome, Taylor." My nephew gives one last whimper, before forfeiting his strength and let himself lean into Skylar.

It's terrifying how one phone call and Taylor just falls apart like a dam coming undone. Even more so, as I lean against the window sill of Taylor's room, unable to do anything to help. His eyes are so empty it's like an emotional vacuum just came and took away my nephew's feelings.

"Tay... close your eyes, have a nap at least." I whisper while kneeling next to the bed. Skylar comes back after going to the bathroom to clean off the blood, he lays next to Taylor and throws an arm over his waist.