You Will Be Found || dear evan hansen (connor x evan)

chapter eight

A/N I feel qualified to write this bc I had a severe anxiety/panic attack today and had to go home from school cause I was sobbing LIFE IS GREAT

Only hours later, Connor and Evan arrived at Connor's house. They sat on his black duvet, the room quiet yet Evan's head was still screaming. Why is he silent? Does he hate me? Oh god, he hates me. He said he'd care and that he'd always be there... and now he hates me and it's all my fault. Everything is always my fault.

Evan pulled down the sleeve of his sweater in habit, glazed over blue eyes staring at the wall as if it was a TV screen. His lips shook as he turned to glance over at Connor, who looked down at Evan's arm with an unreadable expression. "Come here," he said. Evan shuffled over to Connor, who was sitting on the bed. "Let me see your arm."

all my fault.

Evan's breath hitched, shaking his head. "N-No. You'll hate me."

"I won't hate you Evan, just let me see your arm," he spoke gently. Evan swallowed hard, slowly bringing his arm up to Connor. He closed his eyes, stifling his growing urge to run into the bathroom, lock the door and never come out. Connor carefully slid up the sleeves of Evan's scratchy navy sweater, eyes widening at the series of deep red cuts that went up to his elbow. "Evan..."

he hates you.

"You hate me," he paused. "I'm sorry I should've never came here I'm such an idiot I should just leave-"

"No. I don't hate you. I could never hate you," he said, looking up at the sobbing boy in front of him. There was a war going on inside of his head; Connor could see it. "It's gonna be okay, Evan," Connor said, scooting closer to him. The younger boy just looked away, shaking his head. "Things get better. You'll get better."

all your fault.

"I don't know," he let out a nervous laugh, throwing his hands in the air. "What if-What if this is it? What if this is all there is to me and all there's ever gonna be? What if things never get better?" He sobbed, looking down at his hands. Connor wrapped his arms around him. "It hurts, Connor. R-Really fucking bad."

"I know it does," he hummed, sitting back and laying Evan's head on his chest. He ran his hands through Evan's hair, feeling every ounce of pain get pumped out of him through the tears that stained his cheeks.

"I don't wanna be here anymore," he whispered.

"I know you don't."

"I'm sick of feeling," he stifled a sob.

"I know you are."

"I should've climbed higher."

Connor pulled away, shaking his head. "No. You are the only good thing that has ever happened to me, if you weren't here I'd be dead."

"You've got Zoe," he wiped his face. "a-and Jared. No one needs me."

Connor cupped Evan's cheek, pulling him until he was inches from his skin. "I need you."

Evan just sniffled and fell against Connor's chest, lungs reaching for air as though he was drowning. Their legs entangled, moonlight pouring from the open window.

Two hearts, broken in two different ways.

he's lying.