a/n: woot! it's lovely to be posting again! today is a misnomer though, i'll go back to my friday posting schedule next week. love you all!
Adam is feeling sick.
Gut-wrenchingly, soul-scarringly, heart-breakingly sick.
His boyfriend, you see, his boyfriend is going away to college and he cannot go with him.
"…three hours later my hands are cramping and I've only picked one class," Evan groans. "One! And I'm pretty sure it's not a class so much as it is a lunch period."
He paces and squirms and squirrels his hands through his dark hair, too jazzed to let them sit politely in his lap as Adam's hands are doing. His voice explodes from his chest, his arm hair stands on end. He is excited. Complaining, nervous, maybe even a bit frustrated, but still…
It rolls behind his green eyes making them burn like twin comets and it fluxes out onto his exposed skin giving him his own electric field. If Adam concentrates he can almost hear it – a hypnotic, monophonic buzz.
Every time Evan thinks about college the buzz gets louder.
Adam doesn't actually want to kill Evan's buzz. This is a great opportunity for him. Who knows what could come of it – where he could go?
Where else he could go?
Adam's stomach lurches.
He will not be sick, he repeats to himself, placing a delicate hand over his mouth. He will be smooth about this. He will be happy for Evan. Better yet, he will make Evan believe he is happy.
"Yeah, I can't believe you left it for so late. Aren't you leaving me tomorrow?"
…and apparently, he will fail miserably.
"I mean, leaving tomorrow," he corrects in a stuttering rush. Predictably, his cheeks are flaming. "For school. You're leaving tomorrow for school."
Adam cringes at the rawness in his voice. He is seventeen. That's practically ancient in cat-years. He should not sound like a kitten that's being abandoned at the pound by the only owner he's ever known.
And yet, that is exactly how it feels.
Evan is leaving.
He draws his knees up and pins his gaze to the sky. He can't do this. He told himself he could but it was a hideous lie. The dull ache that's been sitting in the middle of his chest since the day the acceptance letter arrived has gravitated to a suffocating lump pressing against his throat.
Silence creeps in. And it creeps and it creeps. A silence of conspicuously missing words. Adam would do anything to make it go away, but he can't talk. He can't even breathe, he's so paralysed. He's twisting, being twisted, gutted from the inside. Tomorrow there will be a cavity where there should be pieces of himself and he doesn't know what he's going to do then.
Then the air beside Adam stirs and Evan is sitting on the step next to Adam. "Adam, I thought we talked about this already."
There is strain in his voice and it makes Adam wince. "I can't stay in highschool forever, Adam. I wish I could, but that's not how life works. We either move on or we get left behind."
Adam doesn't agree. That implies that people who get left behind got left there because they didn't move on. Adam's getting left behind has nothing to with him not being able to move on. The fact that they happen to appear together now is a fucked up coincidence.
Adam is getting left behind because of his condition.
And he's not moving on because he doesn't want to.
He hugs his knees tighter. They are so far removed from their original reason for coming out here – to stalk a shooting star. Evan's idea, but only per procura Adam who rarely suggests these things even when he wants to do them. Adam had wanted to make a wish and seeing as he was short on a genie's lamp or a conveniently located wishing well the star was his only option.
He's kept what he is about from Evan, though. To Evan, shooting stars are only worth the time when they are actually planes that are flying too low and crashing. Explosions, drama, and carnage.
His thoughts about wishes are much the same.
Adam doesn't know what he personally believes about wishes and at this point it is somewhat irrelevant. Even if the shooting star actually did appear, he wouldn't be able to make his wish. He doesn't know what he wants. Actually, that is a lie. He knows what he wants. He just doesn't know how to ask for what he wants.
Because what he wants is impossible.
"Adam? Adam, look at me?" Evan speaks softer now. A calloused thumb and forefinger grab Adam's chin and tug it earthward. Now Adam's vision is filled not with stars, but with green comets.
They are shining brightly. Too brightly.
He is not buzzing now.
The fingers are replaced by Evan's cupping palms trapping the sides of Adam's face, tugging his head around. Their foreheads touch. Adam's eyes close with familiarity. He's been here many times. It's just never been this sad before.
"I will come home every weekend," Evan whispers. "I'm not…I'm not leaving you Adam. I could never…I'm not…" he trails off.
"I know," Adam replies in a very small voice. Well he sort of knows. He's managed to work out that Evan's wanting to leave doesn't mean he wants to leave Adam. Even if it looks almost exactly he same.
Evan turns his head against Adam's. He's looking down at…something. "Will it make it better if I stay?"
"You can't stay," Adam says in deadpan. He's considered this already. It's too selfish. Too selfish. Too selfish. He can't stay.
"I mean if I stay tonight."
Adam pries his eyes open.
"Let's pretend," Evan with the too bright eyes says, "that tomorrow isn't coming."
"But it will," Adam insists.
"But not tonight."
They go inside together, hand in hand. Adam's parents have long gone to bed so they do not mark the solemn trek of the two boys up to Adam's bedroom.
The bedroom door closes.
The shooting star is forgotten.
a/n: and so the adventure begins again. thanks for all the support on the prequel ^^! read and review! it makes me feel happy and writery!
also, currently collab writing a new story Soma under the account cybersheep with two amazing writers! the link is in my favorites! check it out ^^! tis slashy and cyber punky and we're a bit (a lot) in love with it *wink*