Shades of Dusk

Infected Ink

The grey light of dawn is surprisingly bright, and it finds Forth once again in front of his mirror, shirtless, staring at his own face. There are bags under his eyes, accented by the faint start of bruises from exhaustion. He can already foresee a short temper at today's hazing activities, and part of him desperately wants to skip it.

All of it. Class, the SOTUS events, dealing with people...

The possibility of seeing Beam.

The thought of the medical student has his chest tightening, the same ball of tangled emotions clogging his throat, has him wanting to turn and crawl back into bed, to bury his face in the pillow that has become Beam's, and just... stay there.

If there is one thing that holds true, it is that he is tired. Exhausted. Done. Terribly, horribly close to being done with...

This isn't the first time that Beam has run away; he's figured the med student's trigger are those three little words, said with the slip of the tongue and leaving him grasping at air with how fast Beam runs from him. It's like dealing with a skittish colt; speaking in soft voices, easing with gentle hands and reassurances, only to be nearly kicked as the colt bolts unexpectedly.

It hurts, every time. And Forth... Forth isn't sure how many more times he can stand to be kicked, and still want to be around. It hurts, more than he can possibly bear; the thought of letting Beam go. But there has to be a point where he protects himself from further harm, isn't there?

There has to be a point where he stops himself from completely, utterly hating Beam. And while the thought leaves him dizzy, breathless, he knows that it isn't exactly far off, not really. And when he gets to that point?

He hates himself for it, but he's protecting Beam as much as himself at this point.

Despite how much it hurts, despite how much he wants nothing more than to see that beautiful shining face, it's time to take a step back, for a while, himself. The thought, the overall decision, leaves him grim faced and already hating the day, before it has truly started.

He pulls on the t-shirt and uniform shirt from yesterday almost mechanically, before digging out his phone and placing a call he is truly not looking forward to completing.

"....It's me. I need a favor."

\;*;/