but i'm here right now

one

wait a minute
i think i left conscience on your front doorstep

ezra clenched his knuckles until they were pulsing white. he stood in front of her door breathless, waiting as if it were going to open by itself. it wasn't going to and he knew that, yet he stood still.

wait a minute
i think i left my conscienceness in the sixth dimension

the blanket of night slowly wrapped around him as the sun went down. he spaced out, staring at her front door for one, two, three, four, five, six minutes, he counted. he clenched his jaw and shut his eyes closed.

but i'm here right now,
right now

he knocked. and waited.
then knocked.
waited.
knocked. harder.
waiting.

"fuck, come on..."

feeling uneasy, ezra uncovered the spare key from under the welcome mat, fidgeting as he unlocked the door.

the apartment was dark stepping in. the cure played silently from the slightly static radio.

he strode into the abyss of her dark hallway towards her room. each step felt harder to carry than the last. breaths became heavier as he inched closer and closer and closer to her.

but she wasn't there. her bed sheets were tossled, clothes sprinkled the floor, it felt cold. empty. his chest hurt with guilt.

he understood her episodes. he was patient with her because he understood that he couldn't feel what she could feel, but this time his patience ran out.

he broke. he said awful, sickening things to her that he regretted deeply. he felt so much
regret,
regret,
regret, felt it everywhere.
it dripped off of his fingertips, it tasted vile.