He couldn't drag his brain away from feeding itself reminiscent memories of things that he'd only now realised he was not getting back. There were certain things that could be replaced, but none of which could be replayed.
The drive to his house wasn't exactly miserable, however, it was not like the feeling of trying to fall asleep on the eve of his seventh birthday, waiting to time travel in his subconscious to the day that he'd hyped up for the previous three-hundred and sixty-five days. It wasn't exciting or thrilling or laced with the tiniest trace of curiosity. His predictions of what the home would feel like and look like and smell like would all be the same. It never changed.
He brought himself back to the headspace of his trip away with Geoff. He definitely did not take advantage of the serenity and freedom and time that they had to simply waste away, which was a regretful thought, yet those three days away still gave him that little tinge of happiness; a sliver of the feeling at that point in time, a souvenir.
He thought back to when Geoff had neglected the most beautiful yellow roses, and when it was pointed out, he admitted his entrancement with Awsten. Those wild roses really were stunning. And the fact that the older boy had bothered to collect a bouquet for his newly-pronounced boyfriend, that made him happy, too. That bouquet was still sitting in the cup holder in Geoff's car, falling apart with brittle stems and browned petals.
Even the prettiest roses would wilt, eventually.
Reminiscing wasn't enjoyable. Not within the current context, at least. Not when he could only compare the memories of where he was going to the ones that he was leaving, and the contrast between them; the comparison.
He was pretty sure that Mrs. Wigington had been chattering to him as her voice seemed to drift back into focus. He didn't think that he had missed anything important, as if she was just speaking so that the empty space could be filled, even though Awsten had already filled it in his head with thoughts of her son.
"He really likes you, you know."
That was the sentence that made Awsten snap back out of his headspace and into the words that were being spoken. He lifted his head up for a moment to look at her, letting out a little sigh. "Doubt it," he mumbled, resting his head back against the cold window.
She frowned slightly as a response, however, he didn't let her speak before he followed it up.
"He's done a lot, for me. A lot more than I deserve from him, at least," he was looking at her now, to assess her reaction. "You have, too, and the rest of your family, as well. I've never really been good at showing gratitude so I really do hope that you can just take my word for it because I'm not sure that I'll be able to make it up to you, physically."
His reasoning for leaving wasn't exactly justified in a way that would be able to be explained to or understood by anyone else, besides himself. From another standpoint, this was a stupid idea, sure. But he'd been suffocated by the anxiousness of what his parents were thinking and how long he could stay away and how he would, eventually, need to provide them with an explanation. He needed to remove the cause of the anxiety that was eating away at him, and the only possible way to cure that was to face the problem that he had been avoiding for so long.
"I know it seems like I'm lying because of the fact that I'm going home by my own choice, but as a parent, I'm sure you'd understand why it's important that I do."
She only nodded in response to that, a small sigh leaving her pursed lips. "I know, honey. I think you're making the right choice, on the behalf of your family relationships, anyway." He knew that this wasn't going to benefit himself in any other way than simply resolving his own mixed feelings, although he didn't feel the need to voice it. "You're welcome to come back to us, anytime that you need to. Just head over. I'm sure that Geoffrey would be happy to see you, anyway."
"Thank you," he mumbled, sitting up slightly in the passenger seat as the familiar feeling of the bumpiness of his own driveway as the car swerved slightly and stopped at the front of the lifeless house that was only slightly lit up by street lights, and the slightly brighter light coming from the kitchen window, suggesting that someone was still awake. That meant that he couldn't just sneak up to his room for the night, and that's when the anxiety started to really kick into his system.
"Are you okay, honey? I can take you inside, if you'd like."
He shook his head slightly and pulled his hoodie sleeve out from his mouth, he hadn't even realised that he'd been chewing on it. "No, it's alright. You've done enough for me already, Mrs. Wigington. Thank you."
She smiled as he opened up his car door, saying that he was more than welcome, and soon enough he was walking across the cold pavement, barefooted, and she was driving away.
YOU ARE READING
Serendipitous (Gawsten)
Fiksi Penggemar[COMPLETED] An apathetic boy with colourblindness and too many problems serendipitously meets a boy who may be able to help him feel all of the colours he'd never seen.
