Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The Time He Wasn't There
He wasn't sure why he had wanted to open it that day, but he tried.
It had now been four years since Theo left and since the first time Theo had used the umbrella on his own it had gone untouched. Now he was sitting in his room and he was getting high and he just wanted to feel like Boris was there again.
Sometimes Popper still smelled like Theo's old friend. He would get a whiff of smoke or alcohol as the dog ran by— but it was more than that. There was an underlying musk. He was sitting next to Theo now, and Theo scratched between his ears, relishing the softness of fur against his dry, touch-starved skin.
He hadn't gotten close with anyone in a long time.
He took a drag of his— whatever it was— cigarette? He wasn't sure anymore— and reached over the side of his bed, grasping the umbrella and taking it out. He pushed the button and it blossomed up, hitting his mattress and bouncing a little bit. He almost laughed. Then he leaned back against his headboard, holding it out in front of him so he was shielded from the rest of the world.
His eyes fluttered shut.
"What are you thinking about, Potter?" he could almost hear his friend whisper.
"Oh, nothing, you know... I just miss you," he mumbled out loud. He felt Boris shift, the touch of fingers against his cheek.
"I'm right here, silly," the boy chuckled. Theo smiled, but he knew there were tears in his eyes because a few seconds later a few of them replaced the feeling of those fingers.
"God, I wish you were," he choked out, putting his head in his hands.
The echo of arms wrapping around him was only a taunting memory.
