The last strands (#Tronnor)

Chapter 6: The accomplice

Troye had been aimlessly walking around his hotel room, probably for the past five hours straight. Funny thing was that he didn’t mind, or couldn’t tell. He knew anyways that if he tried to go to sleep he would fail; there was no rest that would put his mind at ease. It was back to those days all those many years back, before he had come out and began to live accordingly to how he deserved, back to the years of the day nightmares. Back to the strange and accusing thoughts on his mind, plaguing the little peace he so cherished.

One step, two steps, turn around, one step, two steps. Both his hands were pressed against his head. He felt dizzy, but refused to sleep. Still like that, he knew he couldn’t keep that up forever, so he decided to serve himself a cup of tea. He sat down on the floor facing the rain, with his back resting against the bed. At that point he couldn’t care anymore if it was three in the morning or not. He couldn’t mind, for his mind was off balance and busy with other things.

-“You do not like Connor.”—Troye told himself loud and clear, thinking that maybe if he heard the words he would believe them—“You do not like Connor. You do not like Connor. You cannot like Connor. It will only bring about problems. Connor does not like you, and you do not like him. Connor is a good friend. Don’t fuck it up. Don’t fuck him up. Don’t fuck up…”

Troye squeezed the hot cup of tea with force using both of his hands. He felt so tiny, in that dimly lit room with only his thoughts to haunt him. Anything could happen to him in a place as such, and nobody would know. He could stay and sleep in for a long as he liked, and nobody would knock to bother him. He could stay awake all night thinking about Connor, and there was no one to stop him from that either.

-“You… don’t have… a crush… on your best friend…”

Troye gulped down the tea, and hopped back into bed. He was convinced with that it would be enough for his body to feel the tiredness and to succumb to sleep. But he was wrong, like most of the time. Because now that he faced away from the storm, he couldn’t help but stare at the empty side of his bed. He saw the outlines of the sheets and the pillows meant to be shared, and wondered. He wondered if Connor would sleep comfortably if he slept in the same bed with him. He wondered if the two of them would fit. He wondered if Connor liked to keep the bed sheets off on warm nights such as this one, just like Troye liked.

He wasn’t about to admit it, but Troye thought throughout the night that it didn’t matter how different Connor’s way of sleeping could be from his; he would gladly fall peacefully at rest just by knowing that Connor was there on his side. Anytime, anywhere.

-“Oh, my… what am I going to do now?”

Troye was not sure if he expected any form of answer at all. Maybe he just wanted someone to talk to about this, but he had nobody. He knew if he went for Tyler like he usually would, things would backfire. There was also the girls from the Holy Trinity, but Hannah would probably want to interfere, and he wasn’t about that plan, either. Troye had nobody to talk to… except maybe one person.

It was late, and still Troye knew he was not getting any rest that night. Sleep, perhaps, but not any rest. He grabbed his phone and wrote the message, asking for a friend. He really didn’t know if they would reply, but he was out of ideas. He reread it several times before pressing the send button, and already regretted doing so. He was sure they wouldn’t answer back, it was ridiculously late, and they were definitely sleeping. Besides he had been super ambiguous, so there was no chance they would take any interest in what he wanted to say.

Then his phone buzzed. Troye picked it up in disbelief, and saw that the friend he had messaged had actually replied to his message, saying they were meeting Troye that morning, and that they were going to help him out in whatever he needed. Troye let out a small smile, surprised that maybe, for once, his luck may have changed. But even then he couldn’t help but admire the solitude and the insomnia. Even with that little ray of good luck; little Troye knew he was done for, and there was no escape to this newfound feelings of his.