please dont say you love me // tracob au

1.9

Troye woke up the next morning in a haze of utter exhaustion. He finally had been rudely awoken at half past eleven by the light coming through the curtains that Jacob always remembered to open before he left for work early in the morning. Although today it was particularly cloudy, the light still managed to make its way in a bit. It seemed to be his little way of helping Troye get up and out of bed even when he wasn't there to do it himself. Troye though, didn't want to get up. He wanted to stay in bed forever. He already felt horrible and could tell it was going to be a horrible day. He just knew. He knew as he felt such a heavy feeling in his chest and knew it wouldn't be going away today. He bit his lip and closed his eyes as he tried- but nothing worked. He didn't exactly know why it was there, he was happy yesterday. He'd been happy this whole week. He's felt like this before of course, practically the whole last year of his life had been lived with what felt like a boulder in his heart. He tried ignoring it though, as he sighed and rolled over, and let his eyes land on his phone on the nightstand. He reached out and unplugged it and unlocked it, and he was met with six new messages, of course all from Jacob.

hey, i made some coffee this morning and left the rest in the pot so just warm it up if you want it when you get up :)

you up yet? just checking

i know you don't have any reason to be up yet and you were really tired last night but just wanna make sure you text me when you wake up so .... text me when you wake up!

sorry that was annoying. i'll stop now. get ur beauty sleep!! even though ur already beautiful enough

love you <3

(a lot)

Troye let out a chuckle and rolled his eyes at Jacob's concern, but he knew that concern was filled with pure love and concern. He had to admit...it was cute. The boy had a way of charming him even if he was being a tad clingy. 

you never fail to make me laugh jay. i just needed some sleep damn! i'm up, don't u worry. thanks for the coffee! :)

Troye put his phone down and sighed as he stretched out his muscles. He slowly sat up in bed, and looked around at the dull room. He heard a pitter patter sound coming from the roof and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but once he looked out the window, he realized it was drizzling outside. He saw the streams of light rain race down the window, as if their lives depended on it. He smiled, but it made him sad. He felt sad. He felt anxious. And he didn't know why.

Feelings that couldn't be exactly pinpointed where they were coming from were the worst. They make you want to curl up in a ball and die for no reason at all and Troye hated it.

He thought about getting up and getting some coffee in him would help, maybe. But as he stood there in the kitchen, his coffee mug in his hands with heated up hazelnut coffee inside of it, and his nighttime music playlist playing softly in the background, he still couldn't get his hands to stop shaking. He realized that it had started raining harder outside, and the sound of the rain hitting the roof and windows accompanied the soft and sad sounds of Coldplay coming from his phone.

And as he moved himself over to the couch and sat down, he tried to gain his composure. He tucked his legs undreneath him and took some deep breathes. Everything was okay. But he couldn't help it when his eyes caught sight of the one of the many pictures of him and Connor still laying around his apartment. He eyed it and stared at it from a distance for a solid minute before giving in and grabbed it, as he put his mug down and firmly held onto the picture frame. He ran his hands over the edges. It was in a black wooden picture frame, which was worn at the edges. As he rubbed his fingers over it, he wiped off the thin layer of dust on top of it and shook it off his fingers. He ran his thumb over the thick glass which protected the fragile memory inside. He was mesmerized by it. Maybe it's because it's been awhile since he's actually stared at one for this long, or because he'd been doing so so much better recently. He analysed the picture as he compared the blue of his mom jeans to the blue in his eyes, and the green of the wall behind them in the picture to the green in Connor's eyes. He compared the way Connor's arm is around his waist to the way Jacob's hangs now. He compares the smile on his face to the smile on his face now. It's different, it clearly used to be stronger, but he can see the weakness. He can see the dread and inevitable doom pulling the corners of his mouth down into a frown. This had been taken after Connor was diagnosed, but before he started chemo, before he started losing hair, loosing weight....losing hope.