Human || Lams (Completed)

This Night Just Can't End

Alex fell asleep while John was still over, pen still in his hand and notebook in his lap. John layed a blanket over him and moved a piece of hair out of his face, looking at him for as long as he allowed himself to. For a short, fleeting second, he felt the urge to kiss his temple.

Instead, he picked the book up curiously, seeing a finished version of the poem on Alex's arm in the orchestra room.

One thing I've realized;
First impressions are also last,
That of course gives you no room,
No excuse- no reason for this reset,
So shake my hand again,
I'll pretend we haven't done this before

John smiled. Pretending to be in a relationship all day- constant hand holding and being shoved together by their friends- had drained him. It seemed like it was moving too fast for him to comprehend, but this moment let him finally relax.

He still felt a hole in his heart when he thought about the situation he was in for too long. Alex wouldn't treat it like it was real, (because it wasn't) and he still wouldn't be thinking of him no matter how hard he tried.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He picked it up, reading a text from his younger brother, Henry Jr., telling him to come back before curfew.

John picked up the pen, wrote a note next to Alex's poem about how he had to go, and turned off the lights. He went downstairs to get his things, waved to Alex's parents and stepped outside.

The cold had only gotten worse; his jacket barely protected him from the gusts of wind coming through. This time he didn't feel the relieving numbness, just the freezing cold and a sick feeling in the pit in his stomach. With the time it was, he would make it home just before 10, but even if he made it by curfew, who was to say that his father wouldn't be angry at him? Especially after he was over at a boy's house for a good chunk of the day.

When he got back, his father was in the kitchen with his youngest siblings- Mary-Eleanor was coloring in her pajamas while James was hunched over his phone, completely ignoring his sister.

John stopped at the sight, taking it in. His father didn't look frustrated or stern for once, just... tired. He was nodding along to Mary's childish babbling, rubbing his eyes.

For once in his life, John didn't want this night to end. Because in the morning, he would have to go back to longing for Alex to just be with him but still wanting to take it slow, even if they weren't even in a real relationship. In the morning, his father would go back to being loud and irritable and angry and mean.

He walked up the stairs, passing by one of the dusty flower bouquets that they'd left in one place for so many years.