//TW: swearing, self-hatred, implications of suicide\\

Alexander

"Hey, Alexander. I'm back."

His voice rang clear through the morning stillness, followed by the click of the door behind him. I lifted my head, watching him as he stepped in casually and slid the violin case down from around his shoulder, setting it neatly in the space it had suddenly come to fill whenever it wasn't in use. I didn't mind. I liked having it there; I liked being able to see it whenever I glanced at the door. It was just another reminder that Thomas was real, that it hadn't all been a dream.

Thomas paused in the doorway briefly, and I drank in the sight of him, wondering what I had ever done to deserve somebody like him to have walked into my life. And not only that, he had become a permanent part of it. My own little piece of happiness.

And I had been moments from completely fracturing that, from watching little shards of everything we had built scatter along the floor. I had been moments away from losing the best thing in my life, and it was all my own damn fault.

"Hey!" I said, trying my best to fix a smile that seemed adequate enough as I set my notebook down and rose to greet him. My intent had been to write, to escape to a sea of familiarity and comfort, but instead, I had found myself etching a single question over and over until my hand hurt, and even then, I forced myself to continue just to feel anything but that mounting dread that built and spread and corrupted with every dragging second where his warmth and his presence wasn't pressed against mine. 

Is Thomas alright?

Those same three words, over and over again, filling the entire page in a messy, cramped scrawl. A question that had consumed every thought I had whenever I wasn't directly basking in his glorious light. My fingers clenched into fists and I tried to remember to breathe, but what would the point even have been?

It seemed like the smallest of things I could have done. The smallest of punishments I could have inflicted, to force myself to write that burning, devouring question over and over again until I felt like I was going to spill my insides out onto the carpet.

He was here now. He was safe, and tangible, and real. That was all that mattered. "How was the lesson?"

"Lesson-y," he returned, taking a small step backwards as I approached just to keep the space between us. Frowning, I held my distance, my stomach squirming as that small flash of fear coupled with uncertainty danced through his eyes. However brief it was, it still sent a pang of guilt coursing through my body, just at the knowledge he was still trying to his distance. I understood, of course. I didn't blame him in the slightest.

"Oh, yeah?"

Thomas laughed to himself, folding his arms neatly around his waist. "Kids are a great idea in theory, but in practice, they're little nightmares."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's not your fault," Thomas returned nonchalantly. I stepped away from him, fumbling for something to say. I always had something to say. And now, there was just nothing. Every time I tried, it just didn't seem good enough. Every word that I planned and every message I tried to get across fell so flat so quickly and I had nothing left to hold us together.

He was fleeting, a dandelion tuft drifting through the summer winds, and I had been the one stupid enough to waste its delicate nature on a wish. No apology would ever be enough to make up for the awful things I said to him, for the way he fled into the night, beaten and bruised and utterly alone, without the support and the comfort I failed to provide. His retreating form disappearing like a shadow in the cold, stiff night still plagued my mind, coursing through my thoughts like a song on a broken record. For those countless, dreadful hours, I had truly thought that was going to be the last time I ever saw him. How awful would that have been? If that had been the very last image I had of him?

The mere thought made me want to scream.

And the things John and Hercules tried to tell me calmly over the phone. And, even more impactful, even more damaging, were the things Lafayette hissed at me between barely pressed-down tears and an anger igniting like a match. John had been cold and quiet and Hercules had sounded halfway-understanding, but Lafayette had never screamed at me like that before. I had never heard Lafayette cry before. I had never heard him reduced to tears so easily as that horrible night. His words still flickered through my mind when I sat alone, along with that single terrifying image I'd never be able to unsee no matter how many times I filled my head with the better moments I had.

I would never be able to unsee a scared, shaking Thomas standing alone on the edge of a bridge, mere seconds away from truly leaving me forever. Mere seconds away from becoming just another memory, just another ghost to add to a growing list.

"Alexander?"

"Sorry!" I exclaimed, only just realizing he had asked me something. Warmth prickled my face as I spluttered for an apology, fully aware of how fucking pathetic I sounded. "I'm sorry. I wasn't—I—umm...I wasn't paying attention."

At least Thomas laughed softly, pulling the sweater off of his head and running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth it down. I fixated on the small movement, doing my best to capture it, to keep it in exchange for the thoughts that only the worst of demons could bring to life. Anything, no matter how small, no matter how insignificant, was better to hold onto than the memories of that stupid, terrible night. It was a flash of life, of something that somewhat resembled normalcy, and I'll be damned if I wasn't going to cling to every last piece I got.

"I was just asking how it was here," he said, slipping past me and sitting down at the table, where a hot cup of coffee waited for him. A soft smile tugged at his lips, and he quietly thanked me, but of course I would do that for him. I would do anything for him. If he asked me to pluck the stars from the sky and hand them to him, I would. I'd do it a thousand times over and smile every second of it.

"I was lonely, obviously," I returned, joining him. My eyes flickered down to his hand as my fingers twitched to seep forward, to run themselves against his wrist, his skin, his warmth, and to finally learn what he truly felt like. I wanted to hold him and never let him go. I wanted him to stay with me no matter where we went.

Do you hear yourself? came that sudden thought, cold and criticizing and fairly so. Cold
guilt poured against my flesh like goosebumps. I let out a breath and shifted, ashamed of the innate desires murmuring their poisons in the back of my mind.

"Aww," Thomas said, clucking his tongue. His smile was so bright and so sweet that I almost forgot about all the other things. "I'm sorry, Alexander. But what are you going to do when classes start back up and we'll both be a hundred times more busy?" His tone was light and teasing as he watched me so carefully.

"I don't know. Die, probably."

Thomas's hand danced in front of his mouth, no doubt to hide a smile. I couldn't help but feel a small sense of victory, as if sparking whatever resemblance of joy I could would make up for all the damage I had caused.

"Have you eaten breakfast, yet?"

"I'm not that hungry."

"You have to eat, Thomas."

Thomas shifted, setting his chin on the palm of his hand. The sunlight drifted in through the windows just right and managed to perfectly capture the curve of his soft-spoken smile, the tiny flicker of admiration and something else in his gaze. He watched me carefully, then let his shoulders cave in. "Okay, okay. I'll make eggs or something. Want any?"

"I don't know. I really shouldn't."

"It's okay, Alexander. You know I don't mind."

I drew my fingers across the wood grain embedded in the table, just so I didn't have to meet his gaze. He was so wonderful and I was so inherently bad. Bad for becoming the monster he feared the exact moment he needed me the most, bad for taking everything I had offered him and crushing it in my hand, forcing him to watch as the things we had both worked so hard for become absolutely nothing in a matter of seconds.

Thomas leaned forward and the sunlight fell away. My stomach plummeted at the sight of the bruises still covering his face, slightly faint with the makeup but still incredibly prominent. Too prominent. It wasn't fair.

I watched him retreat into the kitchen, reaching into the fridge like he had plenty times before. My mouth opened with so many things threatening to spill across and ruin the semi-happy morning we had found ourselves in, but there was still that darkened cloud looming over us, casting shadows across a garden that needed sunlight to thrive. I stared at my hands, forcing breath in and out of my lungs.

"Thomas?" I said, noting how pathetically my voice wavered and absolutely despising myself for it. The least I could do was be strong for him. "Can...can we please talk about the other night?"

"What's there to talk about?" he returned, evenly, quieter than usual. His movements stiffened and became brisk, as if they were under complete and careful control. I blinked, glancing away. "You apologized. I forgave you. That should be that."

It shouldn't be, I wanted to yell at him. I had no right to let this float on by, another injustice to add to the literal thousands that had been made against him. I was supposed to be the one to protect him, to keep him safe, to promise him that no matter what happened, I would always be there for him when he needed me the most. And it had taken me seconds to go back on that promise. What meaning did any of it have now?

God, I hated myself.

I deserved to suffer for all the horrible things I said to him.

"Thomas, I feel like this isn't just something we can ignore."

In response, silence.

I sighed and stared at my hands, listening to the sound of him beating the eggs. There was so much left to say. So many things I needed to spill out before they consumed me, devoured me, like a fire that just cannot be satisfied. If I didn't suffer for what I said, if I didn't hurt for the mistakes I had made, then I hadn't learned.

Thomas returned from the kitchen with two plates filled with warm, fresh eggs. He set one down in front of me and took the chair right across the table. As he passed, I caught a whiff of his perfume, and my stomach tightened just as it always did. He said nothing before starting to pick at the eggs on his plate, and I wasn't sure if I was more grateful or terrified.

My eyes caught sight of his hand, and God, I so longed to reach across the table and feel that little spark. It wasn't electrical, no, because touching Thomas was not painful or shocking or jarring in the slightest. It was like brushing your fingers against a pretty little flower, handling something so delicate and gorgeous and knowing that it was your responsibility to keep it safe and cared for. It was like feeling a soft breeze whisper through your hair on a particularly overcast morning, fleeting and always gone the next time you looked.

I took a bite of the eggs, an explosion of tastes filling my mouth. Rich and savory yet simple and earthly. It amazed me how wonderful he was, how he could turn something as boring and basic as fucking eggs into a work of art.

"You're not still mad at me, are you?" he asked quietly, so quietly I wasn't sure I had heard him correctly or if he had even spoken at all.

I blinked, the question taking some time to process out of its sheer ludicrousness. How could he even think that?

"Of course not!" I somehow managed out before my voice completely failed me. I forced myself to swallow down the unease rising up in the back of my throat, turning the eggs tasteless if not bitter. It seemed wrong to enjoy his cooking when I had so vehemently screamed at him only two nights before. "No, Thomas, I have no right to be mad at you."

I turned away so he didn't have to see the tears welling in my eyes. I hated it when he saw me cry. Yet again, a reminder of how weak I was.

"I'm not mad at you, either."

I blinked, swallowing down the burning sensation that had slowly started to creep its way to my throat. Some days it feels like I'm drowning without anything to cling to, falling through shockingly cold water as the sky above me blurs and my body numbs. Some days, with Thomas, it feels like nothing I'll ever do will be enough. He deserves happiness, and absolutely nothing less. After everything's he's been through and everything he still had left to overcome, Thomas deserves a fucking break.

"You know you're allowed to be, right? You should be. I wasn't being fair."

Thomas reached across the table and enveloped my hand with his. Warmth blossomed through my skin at the gentle brush of his touch, warmth that almost matched the intense heat suddenly lighting my face up like a Christmas tree. I reached for my cup of coffee and took a long, drawn out sip just so I didn't have to meet his eyes.

"I'm not mad at you, Alexander," Thomas repeated. His skin was so smooth and so soft. When he spoke, it sounded melodic but spontaneous, like a sudden breeze toying with a set of wind chimes, the song it created gorgeous but completely by chance. What a world we live in, where the most beautiful things often come from the most random places. I forced myself to raise my chin, matching his gaze just so I could see the look in his eyes. Just so I could see his softness and remember that maybe, as long as he was here, there was something good about this world, after all.

I never wanted to have to look away from him.

"You've done so much for me," he continued in a cracked sort of way, as if it took all of his strength just to get the words out. "You've given me a world I thought I'd never see again."

"That doesn't excuse the shit I said to you."

"I know. But it makes it a thousand times easier to forgive you, don't you think?" Thomas flashed me a reassuring smile, squeezing my hand before he drew his fingers away, leaving an unbridgeable void where he had been mere moments before. I stared at my empty hand, as if unable to comprehend it, as if it was a completely new entity now that it wasn't being held by Thomas's. "And plus, I could never stay mad at you."

"It's because I'm so cute, isn't it?" I said softly.

Thomas laughed lightly. It was the most gorgeous noise I'd ever heard. "Absolutely."

"It's okay. You're pretty cute, yourself."

His fork came clattering down, hitting the plate with enough vigor to make both of us wince. Thomas mumbled a sheepish apology and ducked his head, eyes slightly wider as he stared intently at the table.

"What?" I pressed, but once I understood, there was no possible way I could have bitten back a smile, even if I wanted to. "Wait, seriously? Thomas, I called you cute. That's it."

He opened his mouth and closed it again.

"Oh my God," I said, unable to hold back my laugh. "You really are cute."

"Alexander—"

"Sorry, sorry!" I said, swallowing down the last forkful and reaching for his hand once more. It felt right. Like we were two puzzle pieces, created for the sole purpose of fitting together. I smiled, watching the way the sunlight danced across his face once more. I really could get used to a life like this.

"You don't have anything left to do today, do you?" I asked.

"Me? No. Why?"

"Oh, I was just thinking we should spend the rest of the day together. We could binge-watch that new series you were telling me about," I said, half-singing the last bit.

Thomas rested his head on his free hand. "Don't you have your internship thingy to go to later?"

"I can always just say I'm sick or something."

"Alexander, you can't skip for me."

"Why not? You're great. I'd murder an entire family if it meant spending time with you."

Thomas laughed, and just like that, everything else in the world melted away so easily. The sound of his laugh was magnetic, beautiful. You didn't just hear it, you were drawn to it. You embraced it with the promise that you would cherish every last millisecond you had with it. "God, there's no middle ground with you, is there?"

"Nope. Never."

Thomas sighed and began clearing the plates from the table. "Tell you what." He walked over to the sink, setting them down softly just like he did everything else. "We'll hang out for the next few hours. But you really can't risk getting fired because of me."

"It's an internship, Thomas."

"And it's important to you."

"It's really not the end of the world."

"It is to me."

"Yeah? If I got fired?"

"It makes you happy, Alexander," he called from the kitchen, barely loud enough over the sound of water splashing against the plates as he cleaned them. With a frown, I joined him and promptly took over, nudging him aside so I could be some help.

"So?"

"I'd never want to take your happiness away from you."

I paused, fingers clutching around the plate.

I don't know where it came from. I don't know why the urge to ruin everything always sprang up, but it always found me. And once the image was in my mind and the words were on my lips, they could not be undone. "Lafayette said he found you on the edge of the bridge," I whispered, as if any louder would be all that it took to summon legions and legions of monsters who thrived on despair and fear.

Thomas faltered, staring down at his hands. I turned off the water and reached for them, holding them as tightly as I could in my own and pressing them against my chest, so he could feel my heartbeat. Maybe that would tie us closer together. His touch sent trails of butterflies dancing down my spine. It wasn't unpleasant.

"I can't lose you, Thomas. Really. I can't."

"I wasn't going to jump," he said softly.

My shoulders slumped the second the admission left his lips, and I let go of his hands. "You're probably one of the best things to ever happen to me, okay? You've helped me just as much, if not more, than I've helped you. And I never want to have to lose you, okay?" I mumbled, rushing through the sentimental fragments of underdeveloped emotions. "Tell me you understand."

Thomas did not respond for a very long time.

Finally, a soft, "I understand, Alexander."

I let myself finally relax. "Good. C'mon, let's watch something. Ooh! We could watch John Mulaney. I have to watch that with you eventually."

"What about the Princess Bride? It's been a while since I've seen it last."

I smiled. "That sounds lovely, actually."

~•~

I ran my fingers through his hair lazily, listening to the steady rhythm of his slow breathing, a fragile sound especially with the movie still playing. I glanced down at the sleeping boy curled up besides me, not even attempting to contain the smile that had fixated itself to my face, and adjusted him so he could be a bit more comfortable, his head completely resting on my chest, and all.

I had never realized how much I had wanted something like this before.

Thomas shifted, pressing himself closer to me as if he was subconsciously afraid to let go, an instinctual fear prevalent even in his sleep. I played with his curls in no particular order, just happy to be able to do it. He was so gentle, and he felt so good to just hold. I kept my arm around him light, both in fear of waking him up and fear that I would be holding him down, keeping him away from the freedom he so desired, if I held him any tighter than I already was. But I kept Thomas close to me, feeling the butterfly-like brush of his breath fan against my neck as he slumbered on, blind and deaf to an overly-cruel world.

This is perfect.

I drew in a deep breath, catching the sweet, flowery scent of his perfume, just another thing that would always be associated with Thomas. It was a delicate fragrance, and every time you caught it, you had to hold onto it because you never knew when you would find it again. It spoke of warmth, of happiness. It reminded me of a simpler time with nothing to worry about, and nothing to need to concern myself with. It smelled like comfort and soft-spoken passion and roses.

Thomas smells like roses.

I laughed to myself at the sudden realization, as small and insignificant as it was. I pulled him a fraction of an inch closer—a fraction of an inch that might as well have translated to entire worlds being gapped in that single movement—and let my grip around him tighten.

He was safe, as long as he was in my arms, and I would never let that go away. I wanted to catch this feeling and bottle it up, just so I could return to it any time I wanted. So I could loosen the lid and let it flow through Thomas and I once more, giving us both the happiness and comfort that we found whenever we were with each other. Or at least, what I found when I was around him.

But no matter what happened, I would never let him get hurt again. Especially not from me.

I continued playing with his curls as softly as I could, something deep inside my chest tingling every time the tips of my fingers accidentally brushed against his scalp. I would have given anything in the world for time to stop altogether, even for just a few not-hours, just so I could hold onto him for a little bit longer. That stupid selfish part of me once more rose up from the depths of a cold lake like a serpent, wishing that he could be mine and only mine. Wishing that this moment could last forever so he would never leave me, so he would never fly away like they all always do.

But that was selfish. It was dumb. And it was certainly not what I wanted to present to Thomas.

We laid there in the gentle rays of the sun drifting through the window for what fleeted by like seconds. It was so warm. And Thomas was so sweet. And the day was so slow and forgiving and I was so absolutely sure I was going to fall asleep as well. The idea was so alluring, the perfect way to tie off this perfect afternoon. My eyelids grew heavy, Thomas's breathing a gentle lullaby, and I almost gave in. My fingers of one hand were still entwined in his hair and my other arm still around his waist, keeping him close to me, the only way that felt natural.

I almost fell asleep, but my phone went off, ruining the moment just as it always did.

I hissed in annoyance as Thomas's body jolted away from me. He blinked, the waking haze of confusion permeating his eyes. His mouth parted in a yawn, which he covered with the back of his hand.

"Did I fall asleep on ya?" he drawled sleepily, his accent a bit more pronounced than usual as the dying wisps of sleep slowly drifted away from him. "Sorry, Alexander."

"It's okay," I returned, letting my hands fall to my side in embarrassment at having been caught. Thomas didn't say anything about it, though, so I guess I managed to get away with it this time. "You know I don't mind. You're cute when you sleep."

"Stop that," he whined softly. Thomas frowned as he pushed himself away from me and stretched his arms out wide over his head. "Be nice to me."

"I was!"

"You're only sayin' that to mess with my head," he mumbled, sitting backwards and blinking lazily, as if trying to clear the sleep from his mind.

"That's not true," I returned, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it softly. "I really do think you're incredibly cute. Even more so when you're sleeping."

"Alexander!"

"Okay, okay! Sorry," I said with a laugh.

Thomas shook his head, then swiftly turned his attention to my phone, which was still going off. I should have turned off the damn ringer. "Ya gonna answer that, or...?"

"Patience, Thomas. I'm getting to it, okay?" I teased, reaching forwards and grabbing the phone. "Yeah, what do you want?" I said upon answering it and throwing it against the couch. "And you're on speaker. Thomas is with me, so you have to be nice to me, whore."

"Jesus Christ," John returned sharply. "I was just checking in on you. Sheesh."

"Frankly, John, I'm worried for you. You can't go five minutes without me, huh?"

"I'm sorry, but I believe you were the one who said you wanted to get lunch with me. So is that happening or not?"

Something inside of me deflated all at once as the realization sprung to life, prodding me in the back of my neck. Crap. "Oh yeah," I said, heat pricking my face. "I'm sorry. I forgot."

Thomas pushed himself further away from me. I froze, locked in time. Every thought in my brain died all at once as he retreated, his body closed off as if I hadn't just been holding it mere moments before. He rose to his feet, rolling down the sleeves of his oversized sweater, and cast me a small, yet perfectly sweet smile. "You two have fun."

"You're not...you don't wanna go?"

He shook his head, shrugging slightly as he glanced elsewhere, almost as if he was avoiding me. "No, it's fine. I've got some things to catch up on anyway and I really don't wanna get in the way of...whatever it is you two'll be doing."

"Oh come on. Come with us, please?"

"I don't mind, Alexander," Thomas said quietly. "You two can have your alone time."

"Come with us. Come with us," John chanted over the phone, as useful as always. Distantly, I could almost make out Hercules snapping at him in the background.

"I want you to come."

Thomas cast me a long look, then slowly sighed. He stepped away, getting farther every second and it broke something deep inside of me. I wanted to hold onto him. I wanted to never have to let him go. I wanted him to be my eternal sunshine seeping in through the cold, deep mist. I craved him like the desert craved the rain while still knowing that it's something you can never have.

I want so damn much and it's so fucking funny because all I want is him.

Thomas rubbed at his eyes. "You two go have fun. I'll be here if you need me."

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll meet you outside in five minutes, okay?"

"Sounds good. See you in five." He hung up, a silence filling the space he had left. Thomas stood still, watching me carefully just as I watched him with baited breath and the sound of my heartbeat echoing ever so loudly in my ears. Everything that made me happy was standing right there and neither of us hardly realized that.

"You don't have to...well, you know."

"You and John have something, Alexander. I can't claim to know the extent of it, but I do know that he makes you happy just as much as you make him. So please, just go and don't worry about me for once? It's the least I can offer you."

I stared at him, my ability to properly articulate exactly what I needed to get across failing me the moment I needed it most. My skin crawled at the implications behind his voice and the way he spoke, as if he saw something between John and I that I couldn't. He didn't think we were...

Did he?

"It won't be the same without you."

Thomas laughed. "You're so sweet, you know that, right? But I'm staying here. You go have fun with John. Bring me back a bagel, or something, yeah?" He turned on his heel and disappeared into his room, calling out four crushing words just before the door closed behind him. "I'll see you later."

And he left me standing there, reduced to wondering what exactly I was now that my sun and my moon and all of my stars had disappeared, plunging my world into a darkness unparalleled.