A Touch of Courage (Troyler AU)

Chapter 24: The Art of Losing

The art of losing isn't hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

- Elizabeth Bishop 

Troye's POV:

The end of October was only a few days away and Troye was slightly mortified at the various Halloween decorations strewn around the school. He carefully avoided a heavily wrapped mummy and resettled his mind on his most recent worry: his recent dream. Troye didn't remember many details, but he did remember the warm weight of a palm against his own, and he had no doubts as to whom that palm belonged.

He looked down at his hands, rubbing the palms over each other absentmindedly and pondering the feeling the dream had left with him, long after he had woken up and had his first cup of tea. The joy of having run into Tyler in his dreams was still not wearing off, and he was struggling not to have it overwhelm him. It had touched every hour of his day since awakening, so that Troye began to fear not that Tyler wouldn't be the same person he had discovered in his dream, but that the joy that came from the dream the moment Tyler had held his hand and tugged him forward would, without warning fade. He needed to find a way to coddle it, to not let it go...

He unconsciously rubbed his palms together again and his mind fell into an earlier moment from the previous day. When the warm weight of a palm had not been dreamt, but experienced; the dream world merging seamlessly with reality.

He hadn't reached out and touched another person in so long he was having a hard time calming down and forgetting about it. His heart rate accelerated at odd moments no matter how many deep breaths he took.

Troye allowed himself to recall his question about whether there really was something inherently wrong with him. He knew that there was, but he'd never considered the possibility of his own role in things. He wondered if it wasn't something that was inevitable after all; whether it would be possible to change.

He pulled out his phone to see if Tyler had contacted him since they'd last seen each other. He hadn't.

He couldn't stop the disappointment at that even as he knew better than to expect anything. Eyes still on the phone when he opened the door, he realized abruptly that someone was in the hallway watching him. He looked up and was alarmed to see Tate leaning against the opposite wall, hard eyes trained on him.

"Distracted with something lately?"

Troye went still and studied the other boy silently, automatically noting ways to get around him if he needed to. To anyone else, the question might have seemed casual, but Troye knew better. The only other time they had interacted had been decidedly unpleasant and his run-ins with Tate's goons even more so.

"Or maybe, with someone?"

Tate's face darkened at his words and he flicked a gaze down to the phone Troye still held in his hands. Troye straightened carefully, shifting his weight onto the balls on his feet in preparation for fast movement.

"I'm talking to you," Tate said angrily, stalking forwards a few steps. "What is wrong with you?"

Troye didn't respond and he didn't move, even when Tate took another step to stand just beyond arms reach. He'd perfected this trick. He could look at anyone's arms and judge the safe distance from them in a heartbeat.

"I said, I'm talking to you. Are you deaf or something?"

Troye didn't respond and took a step to the side, stopping when Tate shifted to block him.