Wasn't Meant To Be : Jamilton [Completed]

Chapter 51: The one with the soup

Alexander continued to walk down the long long way back to his apartment. It was too far. One more step and he could have fainted right in front of a crowd of people around him. In the apartment, Alexander laid down on his bed, sobbing to himself.

By then, Thomas was home, already drunk again because his mother had been kind enough to leave him a few bottles of aged chardonnay. At that moment, nothing was wrong. He wasn't as alone as he had anticipated. By the pool, he was fucking the pool boy again--er, getting fucked, as it was. He wasn't really enjoying himself. He couldn't even really feel it. But he was having a good time up in his head; he was holding on to all the good parts of his time with Alexander. He thought about calling him, but his phone was in his pocket, or, it had been...He tried to reach down to where his pants were stuck around his ankles but found he couldn't. His hands were pinned to the paver tiles above his head. It didn't matter. He could push him off if he really tried. He laughed at the fact. At least he could see the sky above him. It reminded him of days spent looking at the stars with Sally. Sally. Oh, god, Sally was gone. Alexander was gone. He felt sick, especially when he couldn't make himself move to fix his own problems. He couldn't move at all.

Alexander grabbed tightly onto his pillow as he cried. His conversation with Thomas replayed over and over in his head. 

He kind of wanted to stop now. "Can you...can you stop?" he slurred up at the older man. "I wanna call my, um...my boyfriend." He tried to push up against him again but found his arms to actually be numb, as he had felt before. "Hey. Lemme--lemme up."

Alexander curled up, his hands gripping onto Hercules's Shirt on his body. He couldn't think about anything else other than Thomas. Thomas. Thomas. The name filled his mind, no matter what he did. His tears eyes looked up at his cracked ceiling. He let his body sink down onto his stiff mattress.

There was no response from the pool boy. Thomas went silent until it was over and, when it was over, he picked himself up, yanked his pants up, and headed into the house as if nothing had happened. He was out of wine, so he called Alexander.

Alexander Heard his phone ring. He shakily took the device, coughing slowly before answering and putting it on speaker. He didn't talk. 

"Alex?" he said into the phone, all bravado having left his voice. "Did you make it home?"

Alexander sobbed softly before responding. "Yeah...." quietly.

He held the phone between his shoulder and ear as he shook the numbness from his hands. "Good. And are you alright?"

There was a pause as Alexander weighed his options. He didn't know what to say. "...yeah."

He sighed. "You sure? Somebody coming to take care of you?"

"no...."

He went silent for a moment as he walked to the stairs, up to his bathroom. He wanted to wash his mouth out. Before doing so, he said, "Do you need somebody to take care of you?"

"No....no I don't." he croaked out.

"Good," he replied before pressing the button to hang up. He immediately pressed Sally's speed dial button.

Alexander was about to say one more thing before he saw the phone get hung up. That was it. Thomas didn't care about him. He didn't.

"Sally?...I know. But Alex...I think he's sick...Naw, naw, calm down. Just...could you go check up on him?" He texted her Alexander's address as he spoke to her on the phone "...God, you don't need to do that. Sally--yeah--alright...I love you too. Bye...bye. I know. Bye." He hung up, washed his mouth out, and curled up in the tub.