Adam doesn’t move very much. He’s suffocated by lethargy, muscles and body aching and burning for rest when he had not moved them. Maybe it was all in Adam’s head. Maybe he was still dreaming.
However, Adam is certain that a blonde and brunette breaking into his apartment would not be apart of his dream. Or nightmare.
Jenika looks vicious, furious and Adam can see the rant burning her lips when it just. Dies. Her anger tensed brow relaxes only to droop in empathy.
“He broke up with me.” Adam croaks, voice dry from no water and lack of use.
Some of the fury returns, but it no longer burns there because of Adam’s absence, but rather for Adam. Chance disappears.
She sits on his bed, and brings him up into a hug, “Adam, it’s gonna be okay.” She says it like a parent would a child scared of the dark and Adam never had that with either of his parents.
Chance reappears, holding a cup of water and placing it on Adam’s bedside table. He loves his friends, everything they do for him. He pulls away from Jenika. His lower lip wobbles. The rain slows and ceases.
Adam cries, ugly body wracking sobs that have him pushing away from Jenika to curl up on his side. That would be however, if Jen did not choose to pull him closer.
“Blondie, it’s gonna be okay,” she says in his ear something so soft and comforting that Adam immediately thinks mother and his heart aches as if it were about to fall out of his chest.
There’s another hand on his back – Chance – and it’s a weight that's comforting in its stability.
He doesn’t think he quite yet stops crying – he hasn’t cried before this, after Austin left but it doesn’t matter now, all he knows is that he doesn’t stop crying, he just slows. His breathing is still shaky, and Adam feels it, feels like a unstable set of caves being held up with rotting wood. It isn’t going to last (maybe this is his breaking point and maybe everything he was, is, has been crushed under the weight of emotions to be abandoned.)
He’s made to drink and maybe Jenika forces food down him, he doesn’t really remembers, all he knows is that is he doesn’t feel better than before but is not worse either. That must count for something, right?
He sleeps, body worn past the point of return. When he wakes it’s to loneliness, to the dark, and to agony. His heart is bizarre, numb with so much feeling, or maybe just an abundance of loss. Adam wishes it were hollow.
He loathes this, hates the very way someone reduced him to nothingness with a sentence, beyond pathetic.
He showers, and dresses himself in something clean (god knows he doesn’t feel it, broken in so many ways that dirt clings to the broken edges) before making his way back to his bedroom, busying himself with changing his bedding. It’s probably the stupidest attempt at distracting himself. It might be working.
He settles into the clean bed, thinking about nothing and everything all at once. He lies awake for more hours than he cares to admit to, missing Austin more than he wants to.
But you loved him, a voice supplies, you love him, entirely. You trusted him, you wanted his happiness, you still do. The reminder is obnoxious.
Love is trust, love is passion, love is faith. Love is needing someone, but a controlled desire, like the dance of the sun and moon. Love is strength. Love is being reliant on someone when your not ready to face the world.
There was something so easy to hate about it. Adam didn’t want that kind of love. He wanted the love he had for his friends; a love no less pure nor less endearing but something that was far easier than realising you weren’t wanted.
He barely remembers what day of the week it is, let alone what time or date. He checks his phone, only just aware of the tears on his face, blurring his vision. He sniffles, and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. They clearly and his eyes focuses in on the time, 04:47a.m., and that it’s a Thursday. Tomorrow is Friday.
Friday means practice. Practice means Austin and Austin means crying.
He swallows. He already knows what he’s going to do.
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Faith(less)
Fanfiction"Every story has a beginning, middle and end. Not necessarily in that order." - Jean-Luc Godard Sometimes you think your story has long since ended. Maybe its never even started. This is a story about a man who thinks his...
