Sanders Sides One Shots & Shorts

Cracking (Logicality)

Date Published: Dec 17, 2019
Word Count: 966
POV: 3rd Person

Patton was lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was being careful to not breath too aggressively, as he was trying to be careful of the sleeping body that lay on the mattress beside him. He was lying incredibly still, even though his neck was craned at a weird angle that made the curves of his shoulders strain too much for it to be comfortable. A clock ticked steadily off in the hallway somewhere, and although he might have been imagining it, it sounded as if it was growing louder, closer. It was most definitely louder than it had been three-thousand-two-hundred-one ticks ago. The room was dark, but not black dark, it was blue dark. The balcony light that peeked through the splits in the blinds cast the room in a shadowy indigo stripped with the shadows of the plastic curtains that he hadn't noticed made so much noise before. The corners tapped against the framing of the glass, and it ricocheted throughout the room like striking a woodblock.

It was the little things, he supposed, that rendered him lying awake while his counterpart slept. How could Logan be sleeping when the problems were becoming so loud?

The ceiling of this apartment felt too low down now. He must not have noticed it when they moved in months ago. There were too many things that he felt were out of place here. The wallpaper was peeling at the corners, so the patchy drywall was visible along the seams of this apartment that he was sure seemed so lively when he'd first stepped foot in it. But, it wasn't the peeling that was the problem. That could always be repaired with some paste. No, it was because it wasn't until he saw the slowly curling corners of plastered-on paper that he ever thought about what might be underneath. It was so easy to hide fundamental problems, like splitting wood or cracking foundation with a layer of pastel covering.

The floor was wearing in the living room, too. It was splintering off, just like the corner tile by the fridge in the kitchen was chipping a little more each day. The welcome mat was scratchy and never managed to take all of the grime off of their shoes when they came in, and they would end up trudging it about the apartment. It wasn't always visible, so he didn't acknowledge it. After all, he didn't want to hear Logan say, "If you're so concerned, then just buy a new mat," because they'd chosen that mat together. The idea of buying another one, replacing something that they'd so deliberately chosen for the apartment, and that they thought would work out, and replacing it on his own? It felt like an admission to defeat. Small, but it's a slippery slope. It was too easy to steamroll. So, he never mentioned the steadily growing line of dust and dirt, even though he knew it was there.

He sighed, long and loud. A little too loud apparently because there was suddenly movement in the sheets beside him. A shuffle. Like someone consciously realized that they'd been lying on their arm and it had fallen asleep. Awake. He knew he was awake now. But, he showed no sign of it. His back stayed toward Patton, and he was silent. But, his breathing had changed slightly. Shallowed a little, and evened out.

"I can't sleep." Patton said, fingers tightening their hold on eachother across his stomach.

He wasn't even sure that he heard him at first. The way that Logan breathed out the words "Tried reading?" made them almost disappear entirely.

"I don't have a book I like."

"Chocolate milk mix in the cupboard." He mumbled, words slurring together with sleep.

The Nesquik powder that sat in the pantry had been there for weeks, untouched, just waiting for someone to scoop too much of it into their glass of milk to add that cheap chocolate flavour. "I don't drink that stuff anymore."

"Just count sheep." He said, and Patton would've thought it was a joke, except his tone was flat. Patton didn't speak again for a few minutes after that. He knew what he wanted, but he wasn't sure that he could ask for it. He rolled over onto his side, so that he was staring at his partner's sleep-shirt-covered shoulder blades. He didn't want to touch him, he hadn't been as cuddly lately. Patton couldn't lie here anymore. He sat up, curving his shoulders forward to stretch out his back a little. He let out another sigh, before turning to look at Logan. His eyes were closed, that much was clear. At one point, Patton would've laughed.

"Did you fall asleep?"

It was Logan's turn to sigh. His breath dropped with Patton's heart in his chest. Logan knew what Patton was really asking, he must've. He must've, because he exhaled again, and reached for the bedside lamp. He flicked it on, and slowly got up into a sitting position, head lolling a little on his shoulders.

"I--" Patton started.

"Don't, it's fine." Logan said, dragging his hands down his cheeks slowly, then he shook his head a little, and blinked himself awake. "You can't sleep?"

The air in this apartment was so stale.

He stared into Logan's dark eyes for a moment. He should've just let him sleep. "I think I'll just go on a walk." Patton said, before untangling his legs from the covers, and swinging his feet over the side of the frame, and slipping them into his sandals.

I wanted to try something a little different. This is more of what's called an impressionistic style, so hopefully I didn't fail at it XD