Jake Webber x Colby Brock- Biltmore Hotel

9/?

nvm I'm back w a short chapter bc idk whats goin on now

luv u thx for stickin have fun w the babes

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The air around Colby when he walked into my room felt heavy- well, damaged, even. He stared down, the dark circles under his eyes more prevalent than I'd seen them at any time before.

"So, I was talking with a priest yesterday." Colby told me. "No one is willing to come out since you're not, like... Completely overtaken by anything. If that makes sense. We... we can't really prove it." His eyes came up to meet mine, tearing over. "Are you sure that- that's really what's happening to you?"

I stared down and let my head lull back and forth, eyes unfocused. "I don't know..." I started. "What- we can't prove it?"

A deep breath, a solemn no. Despite there being no physical evidence- how could no one realize? Could no one see what was happening?

It was hopeless. The sinking feeling in my chest told me so, and I believed it.

Colby took a few steps towards me and sat down on the bed, hands in his lap as he watched me fidget with the blanket draped across my legs.

"There's some good news, though." He spoke with the slightest smile.

"You're getting discharged."

What?

The confusion in my eyes spoke for me, as Colby chuckled and glanced away. "Yeah, I know. Crazy, given all these gashes..."

His hand came up to his neck, where I'd torn into him with my teeth. I didn't know what to say, and so I only looked away. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. Look at me, Jake." He brought his fingers under my chin, and flashed the tiniest, saddest smile. "It's okay."

Okay. It's alright.

And so, upon my discharge and reclamation of my own clothes, we drove home. In the hours following, everything began to look up- or at the least, I started feeling a little better about where I was. We stopped for sodas and snacks at a 7/11 on the ride home.

"Wanna try something new?" Colby asked, as we set down cokes and chips on the counter top.

"Sure." I answered, shrugging at him. He grinned and leaned towards the cashier, and lifted a finger towards the bottom shelf behind the counter. "And... can I grab a pack of Camels?"

(A/N: if u smoke and dont smoke camels itd be a lot cooler if u did

there been 11 marlboro men

been 1 camel)

I furrowed my eyebrows at him. Colby doesn't smoke. I don't smoke. Or, maybe now he does? Maybe I do. The world is falling apart, anyway. I've lost touch with reality one too many times to trust my thoughts.

Whatever, man.

We walk out the doors to the 7/11, and Colby peels the plastic cover off the fresh new package of cigarettes.

"Take one," He tells me. "Maybe you'll like it. They're supposed to make you feel better or something, right? It'd probably be better to kill your lungs in forty years, than your liver in ten."

Substitute one vice for another. Gotcha.

I pulled one of the little cancer sticks away from his friends and held it between my lips, as Colby pulled a lighter out of his pocket and lit his own. "Since when do you smoke?" I asked.

"On and off since eighteen, I don't really buy them for myself. Just get offered at parties sometimes." He held the lighter up to the end of my cigarette and held his hand up to block the wind. "Inhale," He instructed, flicking the metal with his thumb to build a tiny flame from the sparks.

I choked, coughing as I pulled it from my mouth.

"Nah-" I was still coughing, laughing when I could get it out. "Nah, dude, that tastes awful!"

"You'll get used to it." Colby chuckled, taking another drag. He put his free hand in mine, and walked us to the car. Cigarette still in hand, lungs adjusting to the sting, we kissed before he began to drive us home. It felt different. It wasn't a violent, possessive make out session like what we usually had with each other.

It was quick- it was a message, a kiss that left the taste of a soft "I love you" on your tongue. I smiled to myself, holding the half-smoked cigarette out the window.

Yeah, you too.