As I said before, I was excited to start this so I stayed up until 4am writing one shots for this buuut I can only post one a day. Anyway enjoy this, I found a prompt on Pinterest because my mind was blank.
I really liked this so I hope you do too!
(Yes it's short, deal with it)
"Hey Jared?"
I hear Evan call from beside me. We're both lying in bed, just staring at the ceiling after having a meaningless but fondful conversation. Just him and I, lying comfortably in bed as we're just a few inches apart. I would sit closer but we're both at an appropriate distance without adding on any unneeded tension.
"Yeah?" I respond but keep my head up, staring at the ceiling above. I'm too comfy to move my position even the slightest, but I could talk to Evan all day without complaining.
"I need you to promise that you'll hold my hand whenever I'm scared." It sounded like he was hesitant, worried to get a hurtful response. It was shaky, and desperate. How long has he been deprived from the love or support of others? I didn't even have to think before answering.
"I promise, I always will." I smiled to myself as I responded, reminiscing in all the times I already have kept my promise before even making it. He's an anxious little bean, and I couldn't love him more. He deserves whatever he wants out of this world, and I would be more than happy to give it to him.
Then he starts holding my hand. They're cold, and clammy. I've felt it before and like he just said, when he's scared. What could he possibly be scared of right now? I'm right here, not even a few inches away. I can't help but to start to worry and sit up. I look at him as he lies there, his eyes look... fogged, from all the thoughts steaming up in his head.
"What are you scared of?" As he doesn't move, I try to see if there's anything in the room that may be scaring him. I'm confused as I keep examining the room, nothing appears out of the ordinary. I look back at him and I can see those foggy eyes start to condensate.
"I'm scared if I let your hand go you'll disappear." He finally averts his eyes from the ceiling and looks up into mine. I finally get a good look at his eyes, but it's not what I'm worried about anymore. It's like he almost gave up halfway on his sentence, having second thoughts on even speaking. As if he said one too many words his voice would break.
I can't seem to catch a breath as I stare back at him. My lungs feel tight as my chest closes in. I just heard one of the saddest things that has ever been told. I think back to his hand, and I wouldn't let go. Not like I wanted to, but there was a force gluing them together as I could only grip onto his tighter.
"I could never..."
