Archive of Our Own

to be fully free was to no longer be. to have smooth, unscathed skin, to feel no regret, no guilt, was to no longer be here. tyler knew that no matter what he did he would never be okay. he was supposed to be okay with that, to take control of his body and mind and let himself be, flaws and all. however, he didn’t want to.
he was never able to rest. it was always too much sleep or too little. over-eating or outright starving himself, with intent or not. when he didn’t have control over himself, he hurt himself. when he had control over himself, he hurt himself. it wasn’t supposed to be that way. where did he go wrong?

tired, he palmed his eyes and took a deep breath. he had let another day go by. the sun glimmered through the dusty glass panes, leaving little lines of sun to project onto the wooden floor. beautiful, it would’ve been, if tyler had slept for over an hour. 

his room was clean; josh had spent hours the previous day tidying up tyler’s self proclaimed “depression pit”. he wouldn’t let tyler help, insisting he rest. he didn’t rest, but he did end up playing his keyboard in the basement for hours on end, letting his tears splatter onto the keys. the way the music absorbed the pain, engulfing him like a warm blanket, was soothing. 

it was the calmest he’d been in weeks. the past few weeks consisted of josh practically prying his mouth open to feed and water him and holding him as he sobbed. the guilt he felt for it all only made him sob harder. from this entire experience he gathered that nothing was ever worth it.

josh was sleeping on the couch in the other room; tyler wasn’t up for cuddling anymore. he hadn’t been for a week or so. when he first act to stop the affectionate act, josh was visibly upset of some sort; whether it be confusion or actual hurt, tyler didn’t know; and left without question. he just needed to be alone.

he got up, not bothering to stretch, and stared at the wall for a bit. the ounce of sleep he got seemingly backfired on him too; his back ached like hell. let me rest, he begged to Him, his eyes closed and lashes wet. everything hurt. it wasn’t the best start to his morning, but it was better than previous ones. optimism, right? 

he cracked his back and cleared his throat. he didn’t bother to stop and take a shower or brush his teeth. it didn’t matter. the sun would rise and set and the days would go on even if he didn’t brush his fucking teeth. it was pointless. brushing his teeth wouldn’t erode his depression, and he really couldn’t care less about eroding his cavities. 

he could hear his roommate mark in the other room, calling his girlfriend, tyler supposed. he was giggly. happy.  tyler’s lips pulled up into an affectionate smile. he let the sweetness of it all dissolve the aching bitterness in his gut. bitter brought no solace, brought no good. there was no point of jealously at this point. he was holding on to threads, and he didn’t need to make things worse for himself.  

“tyler,” josh’s voice called from across the hallway. “you sleep okay?”

“yeah,” he lied. the faux statement rolled off his tongue with ease, but that didn’t mean it felt easy. he felt sinful every time he lied to josh. he lied to josh a lot. God hates liars. 

josh saw through him. tyler, whether he knew it or not, wore his heart on his sleeve, and his worn out eyes said enough. “i’ll make you breakfast. alright man?” he smiled weakly, his brows creased. 

tyler nodded and waddled towards the couch, plopping down and turning on the tv. not that he was paying attention or anything. he just hated the silence. he’d much rather be swallowed in constant the office reruns than emptiness. 

josh popped some eggo waffles into
the toaster. neither of them spoke to each other; now, most of the time, they were in their own bubbles. josh stopped trying to be tyler’s savior, opting to do the bare minimum and keep him from dying, because it was all tyler would let him do. josh trying to save him made him feel terrible. the guilt ate him alive, but the fact that josh gave up on it made him feel even worse. nothing ever worked out. 

they used to be attached to the hip. sharing clothes, beds, food, and hugs was their normal. they’d cuddle and kiss; platonically, of course. josh would kiss him everywhere, his forehead, his nose, showering him in pecks of love. it was comfortable. 

though both of them missed it, neither tried to initiate it anymore. it wasn’t worth the potential chance of ruining everything. tyler was too broken, josh too cautious.  

they didn’t exchange words when josh brought tyler the food. when tyler took a few bites, josh swelled with pride and sat down next to him. the waffles were somehow overcooked and frozen, and it made tyler chuckle in a way he hadn’t in some time. he had to force himself to take each bite; he felt sick every time he ate, but he felt worse when he didn’t. 

josh thought about asking if they could cuddle but refrained. instead, he placed a hand on tyler’s knee and gave it a squeeze. his palms were rough and calloused, a stark contrast to the soft, almost frail skin of tyler’s knee. 

“proud of you,” josh said, tracing circles onto the fabric of tylers boxers—when was the last time he changed his clothes again? when was the last time he wore some damn pants? he should probably change. 

he didn’t respond, deciding to rest his head upon josh’s shoulder. he focused on steadying his breath. in and out. they allowed the tv to fill in the gaps of what would normally be a lively conversation. everything was different now, and it was tyler’s fault. his brain couldn’t let him be happy. 

a small smile played at josh’s lips. “you always hated waffles,” he murmured.

“i still kind of do,” tyler shrugged with a ghost of a grin. 

he allowed himself to snuggle up to josh a bit, wrapping an arm around his waist. josh leaned into it and pushed away tyler’s plate of half eaten waffles with his foot. it felt good to share warmth after weeks of cold. not that this meant things were looking up. 

“miss you,” josh mumbled into his matted head of hair. 

“i miss me too,” he said somberly, his breath warm against josh’s chest. “that’s kind of cringe worthy though.”

“not at all. i get it, dude.” of course he got it. he was josh, after all. “we’ll find you again.”

tyler inhaled harshly through his mouth, holding his breath before spilling out. “i don’t even want to try at this point.”

tyler could hear josh’s heart beat a little faster through his chest. he felt his lips purse up against his hair. he was worried again; tyler always worried him. “what do you mean?” he implored. 

“it’s difficult,” he said simply before going into more depth. a brief calm before the storm that was about to tumble out past his lips. “it’s a hard journey to find me again. right now i’m in a sort of worthless-numb-brick-of-a human-being phase, and it’s not all that bad. it’s calm.”

“it hurts you,” josh frowned. “you’re hurting yourself again, tyler. this isn’t good and you know it isn’t. you know better.”

tyler’s heart thudded in his chest. “everything is so much all of the time, josh,” he defended. “if i’m gonna be sick in the head i’d rather be stuck being numb than stuck being in pain.”

“you know better,” josh repeated. there wasn’t an ounce of malice in his voice; in fact, it reeked of disappointment and tired frustration. 

“stop-just stop saying that.” his voice raised just a little, and josh knew this was a start of another one sided argument. 

he pulled away from the cuddle-hug and looked down at tyler. “don’t start.”

“don’t tell me what to do,” he huffed out. where the warmth of josh’s skin once rested on his now stung, pricks of a love daring to leave him. usually it would’ve angered him, but he was tired. 

josh found himself almost missing the anger; at least it was tyler. this was hollow. for now, tyler let his eyes get misty and his stern expression fall. he just sat silently; he was too tired to apologize. at least, that’s what he told himself. he knew it was because he was weak.  

josh stared down at him, the thought of wiping his tears away taunting him. an act of love like that had no place between the thick tension between them. that didn’t stop josh from doing it anyway. 

tyler leaned into the touch like a stray cat, starved and desperate for a touch of comfort. he didn’t mean to lash out. he was sorry. he really was. he was sorry, and he was just so tired. 

he looked to josh with a tender gaze, trying to convey the unspoken apology. josh seemingly understood, responding with a weak smile. 

josh always understood. 

love broke the boundary of verbal, broke the boundary of physical. it fueled every breath the two took, unbound and unrestricted, no way to stop it. neither complained about it’s presence. lately most conversations held between them were dull and lacked conviction, but love loomed anyways. despite everything, it was always there. 

tyler buried his head back into josh’s chest. he couldn’t help himself, he just couldn’t. he let the tears fall without a single sniffle or sob; just soaking into josh. he felt tyler’s pain, and tyler felt his. healthy or not, that’s just how it was. 

“it’s okay,” josh whispered, stroking the soft tufts of hair that rested above tyler’s forehead. “it’s okay.”

they rested there for some time, letting tyler cry and josh rest. this wasn’t gonna work out, was it?

—

tyler woke up the next morning, eyes puffy and nose blocked. the gold sun shone as it always did, and the birds chirped. barely a chirp, actually; the sounds from the bird nest outside his house were more like screams, and they constantly woke him. he had actually slept a little; josh was right next to him, cuddling and nuzzling him throughout the night. it was comforting. familiar yet nostalgic. tired, he palmed his eyes and took a deep breath. he had let another day go by. 

but, to tyler’s dismay, josh was no where near.

there was a yellow sticky note on his wardrobe that said:

had to go to work, i love you, take care of yourself dude

ps. eat, brush your teeth, shower

 ⁃ josh

his mom used to leave him notes like that when he was younger, and he seriously didn’t need to be coddled and kidded. he was a grown ass man. he knew josh wasn’t trying to be rude or condescending, he knew that josh was just overly caring and anxious, but that didn’t make it feel any better. 

he grumbled to himself and fell back into the bed, rolling onto his front and nuzzling the pillow. he didn’t feel like moving. in fact, he didn’t feel like doing anything. his bones were heavy and pained and about as useless as he himself. his brain was rattling around in his head, tossing around the same five pessimistic thoughts over and over again like usual.

his stomach begged him for food, but food required actually getting up and making it, and his bed sounded much more appetizing than buttered toast with a side of nothing or some off brand chips. there really wasn’t much of a selection of foods in his apartment; he never bought food, usually leaching off of mark or josh. if there was no food he wouldn’t eat; simple. it’s not like it bothered him. 

the music industry wasn’t exactly paycheck friendly, and he was as good as jobless. he didn’t care. music made him feel alive, it was his passion. a real job wasn’t in the cards for him. food could take the backseat.  

there was a knock on the door; erratic and goofy; distinctively
mark’s knock. tyler allowed himself a breathy chuckle and shouted for him to come in. 

mark peaked his head in, looking around the shockingly tidy room and locating tyler under a mess of blankets. “tyler?”

“hey,” he responded, but the morning broke up his voice and made it scraggly. he cleared his throat and tried again. “hi.”

“josh texted me,” he started. “‘said you didn’t answer him this morning.”

“josh texted me?” tyler mumbled into his pillow, lazily reaching over for his phone. josh had texted him several times checking up on him; he had slept through each and every one of them. 

“geez, i’m fine,” he groaned, tossing his phone onto the floor. “i’m not gonna kill myself every time i don’t respond.”

mark winced at that. it wasn’t funny and tyler knew it. “tyler, you know damn well when you’re like this that’s a possibility. you’re scaring us!” his brows were furrowed, partially worried and partially frustrated. 

a ticking time bomb, tyler thought. terminal. 

“i’m stronger than you give me credit for!” he snapped, but he knew it was true. he just hated the way it felt like his stomach was eating itself. guilt was probably his least favorite emotion. he felt itchy. 

mark just sighed. he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him with a click. the opened a window and tyler grimaced, practically huddling, at the way the sun shone directly in his eyes. it was taunting, and it only angered him further. he tried not to show it, at least attempting to maintain dignity. 

mark’s eyes flicked to the sticky note on tyler’s nightstand before returning to tyler’s slouched form. “did you eat yet?”

shit. “uh… no.”

mark pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, trying to not yell at tyler for being an incompetent child. he knew it wasn’t true, but God was this difficult. “i’ll make you something to eat.”

“don’t.”

“you’ll feel worse if you don’t.”

“then i’ll feel worse.”

mark just stared at him for a moment. he looked disappointed. quietly, gaze unwavering and still
practically searching tyler’s soul, he spoke. “you always do.”

tyler flinched. how come people always prodded him when he was vulnerable? was he that difficult to deal with? well, he knew he was, but that didn’t stop it from hurting. he felt like crying. “you can leave now,” he said, voice cracking. 

mark just shook his head no. “i’m sorry,” he cleared his throat. “i didn’t mean that.”

tyler just shrugged. the wound was still fresh, and the apology didn’t ease the sting. not one bit. 

mark sat down at the edge of the bed, careful not to touch him. “listen,
i’m not gonna force you to move. or-or to eat. just…” he sighed, palming his forehead. “i don’t know. i thought maybe you’d want company.”

“not really,” he muttered. he squeezed himself tight and cursed himself for lying; he didn’t felt guilty this time, but he didn’t actually want mark to leave him. 

mark stayed silent, ignoring how that almost offended him. he just nodded, staring down at his hands. suddenly his cuticles were very interesting. silence soaked the walls of the room like mold—maybe that was why tyler felt so sweaty. or maybe he was nervous. or maybe he hadn’t showered in quite some time. 

“why are you here?” tyler asked, breaking the silence. 

“josh… josh, uh, asked me to check in.”

tyler almost laughed. mark didn’t actually care, he was just doing as he was told. at least josh cared. he still believed in tyler. somehow. 

“and-and i was worried about you.
i miss you, dude.” 

that actually made tyler laugh, even if barely. it was breathy, almost a sob. this was stupid. 

mark laughed along. “you look like shit, by the way.”

tyler snorted into the pillow, thankful for the banter. he missed being treated like a person, being laughed at and teased instead of
tip toed around like an obstacle. “thanks.”

“anytime, shower-repellent,” mark chuckled, before hesitantly adding, “and-and y’know, if-if you need help showering, uh, no shame, dude. i’m here for you.”

that made tyler really laugh. the ache in his cheeks from his grin made him feel alive. “ew, dude, no!”

“i’m trying to help!” mark sputtered, giggling along. “i just-i dunno!”

“i’ll shower,” tyler said, truthfully this time. he was gonna make himself do it. he wasn’t that pathetic, right?

mark leaned back on his palms, glancing around the room. “so you haven’t eaten. you know, i could make pancakes. real ones, not frozen. josh left mix.”

tyler sighed. josh didn’t have to do that for him. he groaned at the idea of food, but he didn’t protest. mark took it as permission.

“cool,” he said, standing. “i’ll make enough for both of us.”

when he left, the room felt a little less stuffy. he didn’t get up, not yet, but he thought maybe he would. eventually.

—

the thick smell of something warm prodded at tyler’s nose, syrupy and sweet. pancakes were done. 

mark busted the door open with his hip, holding two plates of pancakes and grinning like a fool. “didn’t burn ‘em!” he exclaimed proudly, plopping a plate onto tyler’s lap. 

tyler smiled, taking the plate and a fork and just staring down at the food. they didn’t look bad, not at all, but they were nauseatingly sugary. tyler didn’t know if he could keep it down. macaroni—or really, anything but this—sounded great right now. “thanks,” he said hesitantly.

“no problem, bro,” mark said, setting his plate down on the nightstand and immediately digging in. “you should prolly eat while they’re still warm.”

“i…” tyler sighed. his stomach squirmed. “i’m not hungry.”

“tyler.”

he just sighed, folding under no pressure and poking at the sugary slabs before taking a bite and forcing it down. his stomach ached, and he somehow felt shittier than before. 

he could tell that mark had really tried to make these good for him; they were perfectly round, and though a little burnt on the ends, soft and cushiony on the inside. he even used the fancy syrup and sprinkled sugar on top of them. it made tyler feel guilty; mark actually cared about him. he ate in silence, lost in his own head. 

“i think this is all i can keep down,” tyler muttered, pushing the half-eaten pancakes away. “very… sugary.”

“that’s okay,” mark said, but it was clear that he was a little disappointed. he really put his all into those pancakes. he grabbed his own plate, forgetting tyler’s, and walked out the door to clean it. “thanks for eating,” he smiled. 

when mark left, tyler found himself staring at the wall. his gut squirmed with unease and his head pounded. he didn’t understand why the second he was alone everything came crashing down. all he knew was that it was all too heavy and he desperately wanted someone to carry it with him. for him. 

the air still smelled sweet and sugary, and it made tyler’s nervous system threaten to fail. there was syrup on his fingers, syrup everywhere, and the stickiness didn’t leave when he wiped it on his shirt. he felt tears of frustration well up in his eyes and he bit down on his bottom lip to suck them back in. stupid fucking pancakes. 

he stared down at his half eaten pancakes. he hated that mark cared so much, that he put so much effort into something that tyler didn’t even care about. he hated that he didn’t care. he hated it all. 

he cursed under his breath and pushed the plate away, away until it reached the edge of the nightstand and plummeted to the ground, syrup and butter and crumbs oozing into the carpet. 

welp, fuck. he didn’t move to clean it up, didn’t even bother. he just sat and stared at it until the sight brought him to tears. 

he could hear mark in the kitchen washing dishes, humming a song—their apartment had the thinnest, cheapest walls imaginable—without a care. he sounded so domestic, so normal, and here he was, crying over pancakes. 

he sunk to his knees on the floor and put his head in his hands, letting his shoulders wrack with cries. he bit down on his palms, but it didn’t stop the flood of sobs and tears. he was so angry, so sad, so tired, and he just didn’t know what to do. bile—and probably pancakes—rose up in his throat and threaten to spill out. he gulped it down along with the sobs. he didn’t call for help. he just wanted to cry. 

“ty?” mark called out from down the hall unsuspectingly. tyler heard faucet shut off. “you good over there?”

“yeah,” he choked out, inhaling jaggedly as he spoke. he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to stop, stop whatever was happening to him. 

he could hear footsteps clatter across the hallway, and his door opened with a start. mark looked concerned as he searched around the room. his gaze finally found tyler on on the floor, on his knees and trembling fingers grasping onto his hair. 

he froze, eyes wide and somehow, expression even more concerned than before. “oh, shit, tyler,” he sputtered, “hey, hey, it’s okay, dude, it’s fine—“

“—don’t,“ he interjected, gagging and placing a hand on his mouth. he wasn’t sure if it was the crying or the food—probably both—but there was a fifty percent chance he was about to vomit. “don’t touch me. please.”

mark backed away nervously, tugging at his own shirtsleeves. “oh. okay.” he took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to help. “what-what happened?”

“mark, i just-i can’t. right now. i can’t.” he let a breathy laugh glide past his lips at the absurdity of it all. “i can’t even eat pancakes without making it weird.”

mark sighed. “let me help you.”

“stop!” tyler shouted, his voice raw and muffled behind gritted teeth. “just stop trying to fix it-fix me. i can do it myself, i’m not helpless!”

he grunted and he grasped at his hair over and over, trying to clutch onto his sanity. he was so done with all of this, done with being this way. he gave up on masking, and he let the bottled up anger spill out. soon enough it gave away to a bitter flood.

“fuck! you-you and josh and everyone—you keep trying to fix me, like i’m broken!”

mark just stood, taken aback by the yelling, confused on just how fast things changed. one second they’re eating pancakes together, and another, everything’s in shambles. one week, one day, one minute,  tyler’s okay, and another, he’s not. mark’s vision clouded, and he was glad it did, because he didn’t want to see tyler like this. 

“i’m not broken,” he weeped, almost pleading for mark to understand him. to agree with him. “i’m not broken, really, i’m not, i’m just tired.” his shoulders slumped, and his breath shallowed. “i’m tired of-of being treated like i’m helpless, like i need to be saved by someone.” and then, the anger spilled over again. 

“i’m a person!” he cried out, his tears soaking into the pancakes in front of him. spit dribbled down his chin, but he didn’t bother to wipe it. “i’m not a responsibility! i’m a person! i can clean up for myself! i can take care of myself!”

he felt unraveled, splayed out and on display to be poked and prodded at. he was melting down on mark for no reason. mark just wanted to help. he even made him pancakes. mark was trying his best, and tyler still lashed out. it made him sob harder. it made the anger spill faster, now directed towards himself. 

mark was staring off at the wall, hands shaking and antsy. he was scared, for himself or for tyler he didn’t know. maybe both. he felt useless, frozen and unable to respond. his lip quivered. 

tyler looked up at him briefly before immediately turning away; the fear in his eyes was too much to bare. he curled in on himself, crawling between his nightstand and his bed and squashing himself between them. everything was wrong, in the wrong place.  

mark let a tear fall before he left, shutting the door softly and leaving tyler alone. this is how it always ended; alone and hurting. 

he stared at the pancakes shamefully. he wasn’t a violent person, no, not at all; in fact, he wasn’t really sure why he hurt people so much. he supposed he just got too tired when things got too much to carry and nobody knew how to help. when nobody carried it for him, he piled it onto them anyways. he was a bad person, a bad friend. he drifted off to sleep, exhausted. 

—

the next morning he woke up, still squished between the bed and the nightstand. his body ached from the odd position, and he felt paralyzed. nonetheless, the sun gleamed through the window; he had let another day go by. regretfully. 
 
he got up and stretched, reveling in the snap of his spine that occurred. it was the only sense of relief he had felt all night.

his toe nudged something sticky seeping into his carpet. stupid pancakes. they had practically cemented into his floor overnight, leaving them as nothing but a painful reminder of how terrible tyler could get. he nearly broke out into tears again. 

without a knock or a warning, the door creaked open, and mark poked his head in. it made tyler’s stomach churn from fear. mostly regret. 

“You alive?” Mark asked. his voice had a certain crackle to it, and it seemed like he hadn’t slept either.

tyler wanted to say yes. he settled on a shrug.

mark cleared his throat, shifting from foot to foot and staring down at the floor. “i uh, i called josh.”

tyler scoffed. of course he did. “told him what happened?” he asked, but he knew the answer. 

“i didn’t know what to do.” he fidgeted with his hands, and his face was sagged with guilt. 

tyler wanted to tell him it was okay, it was okay and that he made the right choice, but the anger still broiled in his gut. it eroded the kindness away like it always did. he didn’t want to get josh involved. josh had helped enough. 

“s’okay,” tyler managed to mumble out. “i just don’t want to worry him. or you.”

“we’ve been worried, tyler,” mark huffed, wiping his tired eyes. “you look like shit, you don’t take care of yourself, and you—“ he paused suddenly, watching his words carefully. he puffed his cheeks up with air and blew it out, trying to regulate himself. “look, we all know you’re not doing well, especially after whatever last night was. let us help you.”

tyler looked up at him. he looked into marks sorry, pitiful eyes. he wasn’t worth their time; he was tightly knotted, so tight that it was easier to just cut the knot in half rather than take the time to unravel it—that is, if unraveling it was even possible. he didn’t care to find out. 

suicide was no longer a thought in the back of his mind, no longer a safety net to fall back on if things went wrong. it was calling to him. a siren call, hauntingly beautiful. ethereal. teasing. he was a sailor, navigating the harsh seas of his mind and desperately wanting relief. that haunting call roped him in. it was only so long until he gave in.

“is josh coming over?” he asked softly, trying to watch his tone. if there was a chance he’d be dead soon he wanted to be remembered as a pure soul. one who kissed, not bit. he wanted to be remembered as a lie. only half of his true self. the bearable half. 

“yeah,” mark nodded. they were both being so careful around each other, and it was unlike them. mark used to tease him, call him cruel names. he would dance around and shout and laugh loudly and make his presence known. he was so much, and he made sure tyler knew it. “he uh, he’s coming over after work. his boss wouldn’t let him leave. he threatened to just leave his job entirely, but i convinced him not to.”

tyler loved mark in all of his glory, his stupid, obnoxious glory. who was this timid, quiet boy? 

they sat in awkward silence. tyler wanted to shake mark, to tell him to laugh, to yell, to hit him, to smile, to do something other than stare at him like he was already a memory. he wasn’t a memory, he wasn’t something mark used to love. he was still here, but mark was looking straight through him, not even bothering to search for his soul.

“don’t look at me like that,” tyler said, his voice trembling. 

mark’s gaze shot back down to his feet. “i… what happened?”

tyler’s brows furrowed in confusion, in fear of the question about to be asked. “what?”

“what happened to you?”

tyler blinked. “what?” 

“what happened to you?” mark repeated, voice breaking somewhere in the middle. “you used to—” he cut himself off. “you used to laugh, dude. you would drag me out of bed at two in the morning just to go get fucking tacos. you never yelled, you—” he stopped again, swallowing hard. “i don’t even know who this is anymore.“

tyler wanted to punch through his chest and squeeze his heart, choke it out till it’d stop beating. maybe he’d punch through his skull and burst his brain between his fingers so he wouldn’t have to hear that replay in his mind every night. nothing felt real. everything started to look glossed over, like someone had put messed with the settings of his vision behind his eyes. the scene grew distant and echoey, and everything blurred up. maybe it was tears. maybe he was disassociating again. 

he wrapped his arms around his torso and squeezed, squeezed so hard he nearly took the breath out of his own lungs—that is, if there was any left. he was shaking so hard he was dizzying himself.  

“i’m stuck,” was all he managed out. it was barely above a whisper, and though it was short, it came with several tremors and huffs. “i don’t want to be this way.”

“it seems like it,” mark shrugged, slapping his hands to his sides. he was shaking and waving his hands around to enunciate his words, almost as if talking through his hands was easier than trying to put it into words. “you don’t even try to get better anymore. you just soak in it.”

a few seconds of silence hung around the room before someone busted through the door without a care, making sure their presence was known and that they were eager. tyler couldn’t even process what was happening before he was pulled into a warm, almost painfully tight embrace. he smelled like sweat and shampoo, shampoo that smelled like coconuts and lilies. it was the curl shampoo tyler had bought josh weeks ago. 

“josh,” tyler sniffled out, hugging him back with equal force. 

“what happened?” josh asked, pulling away and assessing him, cupping his face and checking him up and down to see if he was okay.

mark was standing to the side, looking just as hurt by his own words as tyler was. his lip quivered and his hands trembled by his sides, restlessly fidgeting with his fingers. be avoided tyler’s gaze like the plague, the guilt eating him alive. he took the chance to leave josh and tyler alone and sort himself out. 

tyler buried his head into the crook of josh’s neck. “hi,” he said simply.

“hey,” josh said, and tyler could hear the smile in his voice. “i missed you. sorry for the bone-crushing hug.”

tyler couldn’t help but smile back, even if weakly. “it’s okay. i… i missed you too.”

josh pulled him a little closer. “talk to me.”

tyler blinked back tears, wrapping his arms around josh’s frame. “i… i think i just need a minute.”

“that’s okay,” josh nodded, grasping the back of tyler’s hair and twirling at the brown ruffs. it calmed the both of them. “take all of the time you need.”

 a breathy laugh escaped tyler’s lips, and he nuzzled into josh’s shoulder. “thank you,” he mumbled, pulling josh down into bed with him. he sat down on the edge of the mattress, josh standing and sandwiched between his thighs. 

“of course,” josh smiled, bringing an ounce of warmth to tyler’s chest. his fingers led from tyler’s hair down to his cheek and chin, delicately tracing his features. he was almost trying to commit them to memory. just in case. 

at least josh was here. that made everything just a little bit more balanced. 

—

mark left for his girlfriends house. for now, at least. he said he didn’t know how long he would be gone for. 

he had made it some big thing, too—packing his backpack and everything. he even bought a batch of groceries for tyler while he was gone. he even bought tyler’s favorite out-of-price-range ice cream, which may or may not have made him shed a few tears. 

“i just need a break,” mark had said as he put all of the food in the fridge. “i’m still here for you, so call me if you need me to come back, but i just… i can’t.” his hands shook as he shoved some pasta into the freezer, and the waterworks struck again. guilt really lurked around every corner when tyler was around, it seemed. it resided in himself, and now, it seemed it started leeching off of others—pitifully sucking them dry.  

tyler was sitting on the kitchen counter and picking at his cuticles, trying to look unbothered, but he was quite the opposite. he was gonna miss mark. he was gonna miss mark a lot.

“i feel bad, tyler,” mark admitted, speaking into his hands. the more level headed side of his brain was trying to muffle the truth. “i feel like shit for what i said, and i don’t want to lose you.”

“it’s okay,” tyler had said, but he didn’t really mean it, and he felt just as guilty as mark did, just for different reasons. he was a lying piece of shit, and mark was losing him. he was just scared to admit it. saying it out loud made it feel too real. “i’ll be okay, mark,” he lied again.

“but you’re not, and it’s all my fault.” mark was crying into his hands now, the brown grocery bags long forgotten on the counter. 

“it’s not your fault,” tyler shook his head, pinching at the skin of his hand. he was trying to distract himself from the pit in his chest that was building up to his throat. he wanted to scream. “its okay. it’s not your fault i’m sick. i just am this way, and that’s okay too, right? i just need to make the effort to get better. that’s what counts.“ 

it was so much easier said than done. 

“i made worse though, and i know i did, and i’m so sorry, tyler.”

“it’s okay,” he shook his head, but he still wanted to scream, and he wanted to bad. he wanted to tell mark he was right, and that what he had said made him feel terrible, had kept him up all night, but it wasn’t his place. mark had every right to say those things. tyler needed to get a grip. 

“yell at me,” mark cried, tilting his head at tyler as if challenging him. “scream at me like you did last time. i deserve it.”

tyler looked down at the teary eyed boy, lessened down to nothing but a sad puppy. he was fueled by guilt and shame, needing punishment to feel fulfilled. as if a punch to the face or a resentful word thrown would justify all that has been done, been said. if anything, punishment only enriches the guilt. of all people, tyler would know. not that he cared. he craved justification, and he’d make sure he’d get it, even if it meant he had to carry out the punishment himself. he still sought out the punishment. just as mark was doing right now. 

“no,” tyler shook his head. “i… i can’t. not again. not after last time. i can’t be immature like that.”

mark just took a deep breath and resumed putting the food away. they sat in silence, both in their own bubbles and both content as they could possibly get. under these circumstances, content was a far away concept, so as soon as something resembling it was near, they would clutch on to it, and they would clutch tight. 

“thanks,” tyler muttered. “for the food.”

“no problem,” mark shook his head, shooting a faint smile at tyler. his eyes seemed to sparkle a bit more after that. “try to eat while i’m gone, dude. gain some weight.”

“yeah, i will,” he lied again. there was no telling if he’d be hungry tomorrow. sometimes he just couldn’t force himself. 

mark shut the fridge door and turned to tyler. he gave him a once over, taking in his appearance as if they’d never see one another again. he walked over and hugged tyler, so tight that he thought his ribs would crack. 

“relax,” tyler grunted out, weakly hugging mark back. “i’ll probably see you like, tomorrow at latest. i’m sure you’ll miss me so bad you’ll move right back in.”

mark chuckled, but it was hollow. it made tyler’s gut churn in fear for what hollowed it out. “probably.” 

and then, mark was gone. with a defeated smile and a click of the door, he was gone. the fridge buzzed and the fan spun, and tyler sat. and the earth kept spinning. tyler didn’t move. 

they had stayed there for a while, just hugging, but he had to leave eventually. really, everybody did.

tyler had grown to really like hugs, even after being so touch avoidant his entire life. mark hugs were especially great. he learned a lot from josh and mark, and really, all of his friends. 

they gave him a taste of living in a world so isolated and cold. they gave him a taste of warmth. 

he had been so scared of the warmth for so long; he was afraid he’d get burnt. truly, he absolutely still was afraid. his friends were patient, trying to ease him into the warmth for no personal gain at all, just wanting to see tyler happy. tyler let them help sometimes, but it was difficult. 

as hard as they tried, his friends could never drag him into the warmth. tyler had to make the push himself, but the fear of burning remained; it always did. if anything, it only grew stronger. besides, he liked the cold. it was familiar, and really, he didn’t mind it too much, right? 

right now, the frost was no longer nipping at him, it was biting. it was eating him away, and soon enough, he’d freeze. the fear of scorching was so thick in his mind that he didn’t even realize he would soon freeze to death. his friends realized. they always did. they just couldn’t help warm him up fast enough this time. 

right now, mark’s warmth was gone, and tyler was freezing. 

for a while, the silence was almost kind. for a second, tyler could pretend that it was peaceful, and not the absence of everything. he sat still on the countertop, legs dangling lazily and mind wandering idly. he stared at the door for a while, and when he blinked, he saw splotches of light and color in left where mark once stood. 

eventually, he slid off the counter, and his bare feet hit the ground with a soft thud. the sound was louder than usual; the emptiness of it all added a tinge of echo to everything. he opened the freezer, and he saw the ice cream mark splurged and bought him. a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. just because mark needed a break didn’t mean he didn’t care, right? he didn’t leave tyler’s life, just their apartment. 

no matter how many times he told himself that, it never made it hurt less.

he just stood and stared at the ice cream, letting the cold breeze from the freezer blast in his face and tease his nose and cheeks with frost. he wished someone was here to tell him how red his cheeks were, and how silly he must’ve looked. 

he wondered if his friends missed him as much as he missed them. if michael thought about him when they hadn’t seen each other in a while. if josh reminisced on old memories of him at work. if mark would regret leaving and miss tyler while he was at his girlfriends house. 

he shut the freezer door and made his way to the couch. 

he sat and he thought, just as he always did when he was alone. he couldn’t exactly shut off his brain; he’d tried many times, but the numerous pills weren’t worth the struggle anymore. he picked at his thumb till it bled, and he stared at the red framing his nail bed until it began to sting. he pressed it against the cold faux-leather of the couch until the sting stopped meaning anything. 

he tried to remember the last thing mark had said before leaving. maybe it was “i’ll call you.” or maybe it was “please eat.” he couldn’t really tell anymore. the words all sounded the same after a while—everything ended up meaning don’t die while I’m gone.

he wasn’t sure if he wanted mark to come back. he wanted mark to rest. he wanted everyone to rest. everyone deserved a break from tyler at some point. he was a lot. 

he sank deeper into the couch until the room blurred and spun, and for once he thought about utilizing those groceries that mark had bought him; he was really dizzy, but he’d rather not get up right now. 

for a second, he thought he heard footsteps outside the door. he perked up, thinking maybe, just maybe, mark coming back because he forgot something, but it was just neighbors.

he hated that the first thing he did after being left alone was hope for someone to come back.

he picked up his phone and scrolled for a while, not looking at anything in particular. just scrolling. some random celebrity died over the weekend. his cousin was having another baby. a band he kind of liked was going on tour. none of it really really mattered though, did it?

he thought of calling josh, telling him that mark left, but what good would that do? not that josh would mind—josh would drop everything just to give tyler a kiss on the cheek. he just didn’t want to add more pressure onto josh. he probably just got off of work, and he was probably tired. 

tyler was sure josh was also tired of having to be the one to talk him down all of the time, even if he would be the one to talk tyler down every day if he had to. he’d do anything for tyler, and tyler hated it. he loved josh too much to treat him like a therapist or a servant. josh was too good for him anyways. 

in time, the dark swallowed up the sky, and tyler truly felt the loneliness of it all hit him. 

—

josh didn’t knock at first. tyler only realized someone was outside when he saw a shadow move past the window. he sat there on the couch, half asleep and not entirely processing that someone was there. 

he heard a few soft knocks, careful and thought out. 

tyler didn’t answer right away. the knocks rose up again, and then, eventually, a voice followed. 

“ty? it’s meeee,” the voice drawled playfully. it was josh. of course it was. 

shit. tyler peeled himself off of the couch, waddling to to door and mumbling to himself lazily. he opened the door, and there josh was. 

he was wearing tyler’s old sweatshirt, and the drawstrings were all chewed up; definitely by josh. tyler would never get spit on his clothes. his curls were messy and matted, and it was so cute that tyler’s cheeks warmed up. even though the sky was dark and the moon hang high, josh’s eyes still sparkled like the sun just like they always did. along with that, he brought a box of tacos from taco bell. a little treat for them to share. 

he didn’t bother asking for permission, as he knew he didn’t need it. he stepped inside, taking tyler by the arm and dragging him along. “mark texted me,” he said, getting straight to the point. 

“already?” he groaned. “i can be left alone, you know. i’m not helpless.”

josh gave tyler a knowing look—playful enough to not upset him. “mark’s just worried about you,” he rolled his eyes, a soft smile playing at his lips. he placed the box of tacos on the counter, and tyler came crawling. he couldn’t say no to tacos. “knew it,” josh muttered proudly to himself. 

tyler opened the box of tacos and picked one up. he tore off a bite and chewed, and at that moment he remembered just how good food was. he shot josh a glare that said ‘don’t you dare say i told you so’ and he took another bite. 

“do you want to talk about it? or just munch on my tacos,” josh smirked, plopping down on the couch. 

“your tacos?” tyler scoffed, already going for a second. “the second my fingers braced the first taco shell in the box, these tacos were rightfully mine. every single one.” despite himself, despite everything, he couldn’t help but grin like a fool. josh just did that to him. 

“so you’d rather eat my tacos,” he answered for tyler, shrugging. “go for it. but just know i spent my hard earned guitar-center-job money on them for you. because i love you.”

“i love you too,” he muttered around his taco, rolling his eyes. 

for a while they sat in comfortable silence. josh scrolled through his phone and tyler ate way too many tacos, probably—definitely compensating for how little he’d eaten lately. it was way better than sickeningly sweet pancakes, even if still unhealthy. 

“so mark left for a few days, right?” josh said after a while, already knowing the answer. 

“guess he needed a break,” tyler shrugged, already feeling the pit in his stomach returning. 

“i figured,” josh sighed, getting up and grabbing a taco for himself. he scanned over tyler carefully, assessing his reaction. “i’m guessing you’re not taking it well.”

tyler took a deep breath, letting the air puff up his cheeks for a moment before blowing it all out. “no, i… yeah. maybe. i don’t know.”

josh nodded expectantly; everyone knew tyler was an emotional mess. he was really bad at hiding it.

“i just… its my fault,” tyler shrugged, his voice cracking. he gulped down the rest of his taco and pushed the box away. suddenly, he really wasn’t all that hungry. “i broke down again, and i panicked, and he panicked, and-and he was being so nice and so good to me and i completely ruined it—“

“—tyler,” josh interjected, cutting his worried thoughts short. his voice was soft and warm, and in itself it felt like a cozy blanket draped over tyler’s shoulders. “c’mere, man.”

tyler sighed and wiped his nearly teary eyes, swaying over closer to josh.

josh stepped forward and hesitated, his hands hovering for a moment before he reached out and pulled tyler into a hug. 

it wasn’t rushed and desperate like marks hug. it was patient and slow, and josh let tyler soak into it. josh buried his nose into tyler’s hair, his breath warm against tyler’s forehead. he planted a soft kiss to tyler’s forehead and cupped his face. 

tyler’s lip quivered, overrun by emotion. “i—“

“—you don’t have to talk,” josh shook his head, rubbing over tyler’s soft cheeks with his thumb. “you’re tired. rest.”

and so, tyler did. he held josh tight, nuzzling into the side of his neck. his chest blossomed with warmth, and he realized that this is what movies and books mean when they talk about being in love. beautifully terrifying to put it simply, he thought to himself. the world did hold beauty, and he knew it. he just didn’t know if he held any place in its glory. 

“marks pretty torn up,” josh said after a while. “he’s scared he messed everything up.”

“he didn’t,” tyler mumbled. 

josh looked him in the eyes, trying to egg the truth out of him. “you sure?”

tyler nipped at his lip nervously. was he sure? “uh… no,” he shrugged. avoiding eye contact was difficult when josh was looking at him like that. 

that earned a chuckle from josh. “well, at least you’re honest.”

tyler carded his fingers through the brown tufts of hair growing almost over his eyes—he really needed to cut his hair. he stared down at the floor, trying to piece together his thoughts. “i just—i make people tired, right? i make everything heavier than it should be. mark tried to help, he tried really hard, and now he’s…” he let out a shaky sigh, squeezing josh just a bit tighter. “i don’t want to do the same to you.”

josh pulled him closer, sighing into his hair. “you don’t do that, ty. you just kinda are that right now. you’re allowed to exist without feeling like you owe everybody a version of you that’s easier to carry.”

tyler didn’t respond. all he wanted to do was rid himself of this world so someone who was easier to carry could fill his place in everyone’s lives. there was always someone who could be him better than he could. 

—

tyler woke up to the smell of coffee. sleepy, he palmed at his eyes and yawned. he had let another day go by; this time, with josh. they had cuddled together all night on the couch, and now, a small dent in the cushion lay where josh once was. 

he sat idly for just a moment, processing everything. at least josh and him were in cuddle territory again. that was nice. 

the sun leaked through the blinds, casting a warm glow all across the living room. 

“you were talking in your sleep,” josh said from the kitchen. he was stirring something in a mug, and his curls were matted down even worse than before. he covered them with his hood draped over his head. 

“was i?” tyler rasped. he cleared his throat and ruffled his hair; even with josh, mornings left him a mess. “what was i saying?”

“you uh, you kept apologizing i think.” he took a sip of his coffee, his gaze not breaking from tyler’s. 

tyler tilted his head. suddenly, his throat felt more dry than before. “apologizing for what?”

josh just shrugged, gripping his mug a little tighter. his brows were furrowed, and he looked a little concerned. “you didn’t say.”
 
tyler nodded and laid back down, curling up in a little ball to warm himself up. he missed josh’s warmth. 

“you want some coffee? or uh… redbull? or food?”

“coffee sounds really nice,” tyler smiled. 

“when did you become mannered?” josh snorted, preparing and starting up the coffee maker. 

tyler didn’t protest, didn’t joke back, he just yawned and curled into himself tighter. he was too sleepy to fight back. 

“did you sleep okay?” josh asked. “we only slept for like… four hours.”

“uh, not really,” tyler shrugged. “but i was comfortable for once.” 

when tyler looked into josh’s eyes, everything felt okay for a moment. he felt good, and he didn’t like it. he hated how the edges of his mind, often sharp, were softened and fuzzy around josh. he needed to stay guarded. 

josh made him feel so okay, but it only reminded him of how bad things would feel when josh leaves. leaves for work and leaves him. nothing good ever lasts. 

when tyler looked into those oak eyes, held those calloused hands, grazed that stubbled chin, he knew one thing. 

it wasn’t worth the fall. 

the falling was fine, sure. the wind beneath him, slowly and dreamily drifting him down and blowing him up and keeping him steady, the elation and the warmth of love, it would all be fine. but the eventual plummet would hurt. there would be no cushion when josh realizes that no matter how much he loves tyler, tyler’s just not worth his time. he’s too much. 

either he dies then or he spares himself the eventual hurt and dies now. 

a chemical imbalance today is still a chemical imbalance tomorrow, just as it was yesterday. no matter how many pills he guzzles, how many times he burns or breaks his skin, it will never go away. he is wrong, and he will be wrong forever. the elation now just isn’t worth the hurt later. 

he’s just tired. tired of the constant strain of flipping between happy and sad and everything between it. 

it feels like there are bugs that linger in his body. the anger in his heart that boils in his gut, and the sorrow and the guilt that eats away. the joy that aches his muscles, and the fear that weighs his bones. they squirm around, exhausting every inch of him. they never rest.  

he wants to rip up his skin and dig the bugs out, leaving him numb and empty. he would be nothing without the bugs, but right now, he is too much. 

in the moment, he feels content. he smiled brightly at josh who was working away in the kitchen, making him coffee, and he knew one thing:

he just couldn’t wait any longer. 

—

“i’ll be back soon,” josh promised, holding tyler’s smaller hand between his two larger ones. he rubbed them slightly, trying to warm tyler’s constant state of cold. “guitar center calls—“

“—calls for you,” tyler finished, looking josh dead in the eyes. he swam around in the pools of josh’s eyes for a bit, letting himself sink below. only for a moment. he allowed himself to be selfish today. it was his last chance to, after all. he nodded his head and let a soft smile reassure josh’s nerves. “i get it. go.”

“ill be back right after,” josh repeated. “i promise.”

“I will be okay,” tyler rolled his eyes. “go. make some money. do your job.”

josh sighed in defeat. he was as clingy as a dog, the way it almost pained him to part from tyler. “alright. see ya.“

“see ya,” tyler grinned, but his heart wasn’t really in it this time. 

—

he was ready. he really was this time around. 

it felt different than the previous times. he felt calmer, more content. other times, when he was younger, he’d be more reckless with it, overflowed with hatred or fear or sorrow to the point he couldn’t take it. to the point he tried to do something drastic. it never worked. 

this time, he wasn’t overwhelmed with anything. he was featherlight, empty. out of his body. this didn’t feel like an attempt on anything. he wasn’t doing anything bad. he was only ridding himself of his vessel, letting his soul free of the traps of this world. he wanted his soul to be air between God’s fingers, unable to be grasped by Him, by anyone. he wanted freedom. 

he thought of josh. he wasn’t stupid. he knew josh would mourn him, and that thought hurt. but he also knew that in the end, without him, the world would still spin, the sun would still rise and fall, and josh would be okay. 

there was always someone better than tyler anyways, right? someone more level headed. more rational. kinder. more respectful. more careful. less tyler. josh would soon learn that tyler wasn’t worth his time anyways. that his absence could be filled with better candidates to token the ‘best friend’ title. 

he cleaned the apartment one last time. vacuumed up the floor despite the violent growl of the vacuum startling him. brought the dishes to the sink, scrubbing them as hard as he could, putting them back all organized and pretty like josh would. he made his bed all neat, the corners tucked and the blankets un-wrinkled. 

he charged up his phone, cleaned up his cd’s, stacked up all of his notebooks on his desk. he didn’t need to hide his writings anymore. he wouldn’t really be there for people to judge and make fun of his poetry, so there was no point in keeping them hidden. if anyone needed a hint on why he would ever leave them, they’d find out there. 

on his desk was a stack of sticky notes. the sticky notes that josh used to write his little reminders in the morning. bile teased at his throat staring at it. he picked it up and flicked between the little blank pages, the bright yellow color contrasting to the desolate grey around him. he clutched it to his chest and laid back down on his bedroom floor. 

despite the silence, marks laughter still rung through the hallways, and josh’s warmth still enveloped him like a blanket. he layed back for a moment on the floor of his bedroom, the paper pressed to his chest, and he drifted away for a moment. 

he imagined the touring van. he could feel michael toss and turn in his sleep, shaking the van and waking everyone up. he imagined holding josh’s hand one more time in the comforts of the mattress set up in the backseat, burying his nose into his neck and drifting off to sleep. 

he opened his eyes once more, and he was met with the spinning of the ceiling fan. the incessant screech of the blades turning and the bulb shaking, the blurry sight of the contraption circling over and over. he watched it for a moment. he couldn’t think of a reason why.

 it didn’t mean anything to him. it just was. it was kind of nice not to think, just to watch. for the world to exist around him for no rhyme or reason. no pressures, no pain, just watching it spin. for a moment, things felt nice. things felt numb and light. 

he picked up the sheet of sticky notes once more, and found a pencil nearby. when he pressed it to the page, his brain stuttered. he wasn’t sure what to write. he thought hard. too hard. he dug between the wrinkles of his brain, searching for a reason to write down, an apology to attest to, but he found nothing. 

his vision blurred, and soon enough, tears splattered onto the paper, soaking up the neon yellow and wetting it to be a dark, desaturated yellow. now, everything was grey and desolate. there was no brightness left, no illumination to make up for the sorrow around him. with this revelation, more tears fell, completely
engulfing the paper into his bleak and dismal scene. 

it truly was an abysmal situation. a forced and rushed climax to his life, riding out pathetically and running away instead of facing the world. he knew it. he always wanted to go out more elegantly. clean and pretty. maybe buy his friends gifts before his departure. donate all of his very little amount of money to charity. jump off a bridge above a shimmering river, his final offer to the world being his body sinking to the stomach of the earth. at least he would be fish food. 

the pills, however, would do. he didn’t really mind. he didn’t care if it was painless or full, clean or gross. he just wanted out. 

he tossed the sticky notes in the garbage. it didn’t matter. he didn’t have anything good to write anyways. just pointless apologies. 

—

the sun slept behind the hills, allowing the moon rise up in its place to watch over the earth. even the sun needed to rest sometimes. he was ready for his turn to join the sun and sleep beneath the shadows of those hills. 

he rattled the bottle of pills in his hand, and the sharp sound bounced off of the walls of his room. it was loud against the empty silence that filled the house, and it pierced through his ears. 

an icy moonlight soaked through his skin, his clothes, and he felt heavy. already, he was struggling to keep his eyelids from falling, and he hadn’t even taken any pills yet. the cold air stung his eyes, and they were glassier from the freeze than the pain that was cementing itself deeper in his brain by the minute. he was just numb. 

the wind from his open window threaded through his hair, tussling it up enough to bother him. he didn’t bother enough, however, to fix it. he shook the canister of pills in his hand again. and again. and again. 

his eyes darted around his room. he could almost see snapshots of better days, of waking up on warm mornings with the sun bleeding through his window. writing music at his desk with josh lounging on his bed and filling the silence with mindless words. being alone with his piano, being overrun with calm—not a calm like now. no, a calm that provided solace, not defeat. a calm that washed over him and cleansed him of his impurities. a sacred feeling he would never need to sought out again, because a new calm would soon fill its place. an empty calm. 

he could see the bad moments, too. moments of weakness. nights where he’d clutch his pillow and cry into it, the sack of fluff acting as a placeholder for a friend he didn’t have. sitting sprawled out on the floor and carving into his bare thighs, torso, wrists,letting his sorrow bead up and drip down in the form of his own blood. a less sacred calm. not yet defeat, like right now was, but bordering it dangerously. 
it was evidence for God, for anyone, that he needed help. he just wanted someone, something, so dearly, and he did get it at some point—he had josh, of course. josh brought salvation he’d been searching for for years, but it still wasn’t enough. he was so sick, and josh wasn’t enough to cure him. he could only cure himself; he just didn’t want to put in the effort to. 

even if he didn’t kill himself tonight, he’d still die in the end. the journey to death would only take longer, and it seemed as if there’d be no point in waiting. why not make a few shortcuts?

so, here he was, knees on the ground and his chin rested to his pounding chest, the bottle of pills still in his limp hands. he took his time with it, taking deep breaths and letting his last thoughts travel through his brain, savoring them as if they were the air that would soon leave his lungs.

still, he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something, forgetting something, and it killed him. what could he possibly have yet to resolve?

his phone remained still on the top of his nightstand, and he stared at it for
a moment. josh. 

he’d made up his mind on what he was going to do, and he really shouldn’t. this wasn’t the best idea. this could ruin things. 

regardless, he reached for the phone.