Before Earth ~RB Oneshot Book~

Aftermath

Chase opened the door. And he looked around. He found a fresh hotel room. Just like what he wanted, and asked for. Away from Heatwave.

Taking a quick glance around, he walked in, and shut the door behind him. Looking around, he was very impressed. Neat room, tidy area, and freshly anew.

He sat down on the bed, and set his things down. Got himself set up. Ready to fall onto his side and fast asleep. Which was probably a good idea.

He looked calm honestly. But in all reality, he was furious, and distraught. At a complete loss. He truthfully didn't know how to cope with it.

He and Heatwave had gotten into bad fights, but nothing like this. Nothing like the huge fight they had tonight. Things were said. And they were things that hurt, and hit deep.

And now? He walked away for a while. As much as Chase knew, it was a painful move, to make towards them, he knew it would help him, as well. To recover.

He may have said he was going to be back the next evening for dinner, but honestly, he didn't mean it. He didn't know how long he was going to be gone, but at most it was going to be a week, and at least till the afternoon after tomorrow.

He looked at the layout he set up. The paperwork he had for himself to work on. The phone he had, and was most likely going to get texted from by his husband, and how he was going to call for a break to deal with the situation.

Chase then finally glanced at the bed. This hotel bed. Just, a bed. Not a special or specific thing about it. Just. A bed. A plain ass double bed. That he'd never had anything to do with in his god forsaken life.

That he'd be sleeping in tonight. And the next. He was silent. Almost painfully so. He realized that this blank bed was what he was actually sleeping on. In. By himself.

It lacked warmth sitting atop it. Even by looks. He stared blankly at it. But there was a clear faint anger and confusion. He did not like it one bit, nor did he completely understand it.

This was the first time in six years that he, himself, Chase, had slept alone in a bed.

Without his significant other.

Without his husband.

Without Heatwave.

Alone...

He was almost miffed by it. And honestly it scared him. Any number of things could happen, and Heatwave wouldn't be there. What if his last words to Heatwave weren't "I love you"?

But now, he focused back on himself. He needed to just stay away from Heatwave for a bit, and get himself back on his feet and ready to confront his husband.

He looked back at his phone. He stared at it for a second for a moment, then picked it up. As he opened it and went to dial a number he thought of how he was to explain it in the most brief way possible.

After a minute, he set the phone down. The phone call was made. He had about the whole weekend to get himself prepared and ready to talk with Heatwave.

He laid down, as tears started to fall, sobbing silently as he laid there, wretched in his own distraught, and pain. And eventually, his eyes fluttered shut as he let sleep and tiredness consume him and claim his mind.