The Broken People [Book 2]

Chapter Twenty: Moiré

"So how long will you be gone?" Thomas asked, walking inside Mark's apartment and taking off his hood and sunglasses.

"About two weeks. I haven't been back home for almost half a year and I want to spend some time with my parents," Mark replied, looking at the dead fern on his dining table. He shook his head, deciding it was not worth saving since he would be gone for the two weeks to come. "Aren't you going to go back home for Thanksgiving?"

"My family doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving..." Thomas said, looking around the apartment.

It was significantly smaller than his own. The kitchen was attached to the living room, with the dining table essentially separating them. On his right was a door that led to the bedroom and next to that door was a door that led to the bathroom. Quite small. But also, quite Mark.

Pictures were hanging on the walls, some in bigger frames looking more professional, some just stuck to the wall frameless. Between the two windows opposite the front door was a rainbow flag hanging. Thomas wondered whether that was the flag he used to have in his bedroom back when they were teens. The dead fern was the only dead plant in the apartment, a few succulents, and cacti next to the TV and on the windowsill of the kitchen, still green.

Without saying anything, he watched Mark pull out his suitcase from underneath his bed and start putting clothes in it. When Mark came back it would be two months since they started dating. And just two weeks before it was two months since Frank's death.

It was weird. Thomas would wake up and forget that that had even happened. He would forget that Frank died until he ended up in practice not seeing him. And that moment of remembering hurt, but it was nothing like how he felt that first week. That first week after his birthday was a blur. It was something his mind didn't want to open itself to.

On the few days where he completely forgot, he would end up remembering late at night. He only made it through those nights while cuddling with Mark after having drunk too much. He could see that his drinking saddened Mark, but he needed it. Or so he thought during those nights. The next morning, he would end up hating himself for drinking, but he never had the guts to throw away the booze.

"Are you sure you're okay with me leaving?" Mark asked him, before zipping up his suitcase. Thomas snapped out of his haze and looked up at Mark.

"Go visit your family, I'll be fine... don't worry about me," Thomas said brushing him off and looking away quickly.

"That's impossible. I always worry about you," Mark said and kissed him on the forehead. He turned to zip his bag up and spoke up again, "I'll text as soon as I get there".

"Do they know about us?" Thomas asked him out of the blue.

"I mentioned that we got back together... a while ago," Mark replied slowly.

"How much do they hate me?"

"They don't hate you," Mark said with a heavy exhale and turned to cup Thomas's face in his hands. "They weren't exactly thrilled about it, but can you blame them? Considering..."

"Considering I broke your heart," Thomas said and softly pulled Mark's hands down.

"They know you make me happy. And that you care about me. So, they'll have to get over their feelings," Mark said and angled Thomas's chin to kiss him. "I love you. You hear me. I don't care what anyone else thinks. Okay?"

"I love you too," Thomas said while wrapping his arms around Mark.

***

"I'm home!" Mark yelled out as he opened the door and walked inside to his family home. Despite only living here for a few years and having many bad memories connected with the time he lived here, he loved his home.