Something -Twenty One Pilots AU

twenty-four

I woke up in a pool of sweat.

Tyler was gone. As he was most of these days.

I sat up and looked at my alarm clock—3:21 a.m.

With a groan, I peeled the covers off my damp skin and climbed out of bed. I walked over to my window and shoved it open.

A sharp gust of icicle-cold wind slapped me in the face, making my breath hitch.

I stood there for a second or more.

I sat on the floor, and eventually sprawled out, limbs extending every which way.

Then I remembered what Tyler told me last.

He was enough.

He was enough for me.

He was plenty.

Good and plenty.

I covered my face with my now cold hands.

How could I not see how broken he was.

He was dead long before he physically was.

I could've helped.

Should've.

Would've.