//TW: mentions of abuse, mentions of suicide, self-loathing, swearing\\

Alexander

The still air, filled with the rotting scent of desperation, of loneliness, and a deep seeded hatred, filled my lungs; it threatened to choke out any pretenses of life. It became a struggle just to breathe in the stuffy room, corrupted as I was with all the nightmares plaguing my mind to the point where sleep was nothing more than an old friend that had moved on, leaving me to behind to wait for them, even though I knew they were never coming back. I stared down at my hands, smudged with the jet black ink, and leaned back in my chair. Perhaps if I stared at the light of the lamp for just long enough, it could burn away the tears collecting in the corners of my eyes. They were nothing more than a nuisance, blurring the words I managed to scratch down.

I needed fresh air. I'd been up, stuck on the way to start this god damned sentence for at least twenty minutes, and I needed fresh air to help me think, and refresh me because I swear to god I was on the verge of having a mental breakdown and shutting off completely.

My stomach remained hollow and empty. My limbs ached. My eyes strained. My wrists were cramped from the hours upon hours I had poured into yet another stack of papers. Everything hurt, and I could hardly stand it anymore. From the moment the sun abandons me in the evening to the second it risks a glance at the mess that I had become in the morning, I do nothing but write and try not to think about the boy who had left me without once turning back.

But still, it was better than sleeping. Anything was better than sleeping, than facing those horrid fantasies. What was it about somebody else's death that seemed so frightening? It wasn't mine. It didn't effect my physical health in any way. I still got to face a new sunrise, I got the chance to move on and find a new sense of happiness, right, so why the fuck did it matter if he died?

Maybe I just hate being alone.

With a soft laugh, I glanced around the lifeless room, the desk filled with empty, unwashed coffee mugs and the floor littered with crumpled up papers containing nothing but my nonsensical, hardly coherent rambling. The only mark of the boy that had once lived here, the person who had once slept next to me, warding off those horrible dreams as if his mere presence exuded light and love, were the plants that remained where he had fled. I had done my best to keep them alive, and surprisingly, they hadn't withered yet under my care, as most else seems to do.

They survived, the last thing I had to hold on to him. Their colors were quite literally the last hope I had left. Maybe, just maybe, they could convince me to stick around for just a little bit longer.

I stood up, my legs grateful for the respite from their cramped position curled underneath the desk for hours upon hours straight, and stepped over to one of the ivy plants drifting down the windowsill. I brushed my fingers against the leaves, glancing out at the world below me.

I hated him.

It was so fucking unfair but for the shortest, most unbearable blip of a moment, I hated Thomas. I hated how he fled so easily, drawn back to the unwelcoming darkness as though the light burned too brightly. I hated how he never so much spared me a glance the second I could no longer benefit him. I hated how he disappeared so utterly and thoroughly, once more returning to the background of a hazy dream fading just out of existence, just the person who sits next to me in my stupid fucking history class and not the boy I would follow until the ends of the earth.

I shuddered at the thoughts, desperately trying to blink away tears and failing rather miserably. What the fuck is actually wrong with me? How can I even think that?

I didn't hate Thomas. I never have, and I never could.

I ran my fingers through my hair as though that would be enough to banish those awful thoughts, gripped tightly until it began to hurt, and let out a breath to dispel the self-loathing building in my bones.

The sooner I got fresh air, the better.

I grabbed the hoodie that had been left on the floor near the desk and flung it on before gathering all of my writing and papers in one hand.

I had added an additional twelve essays in the week since Thomas had left. Good for me. I was really going places, wasn't I? Life is just so great without the one person that made it worth living.

That was sarcasm, in case you couldn't tell.

I moved through the apartment quickly— but certainly not quietly— while angrily grumbling things to myself and counting each step it took to get out of my apartment, down the hall, and to the elevator. Counting made it easy. Made it tangible. It's stupid but it works so why shouldn't I do it? I counted each step all the way out past the grumbling attendant at the desk still awake even in the dead of night, down the sidewalk in the early spring chill, and eventually up the dirt path of a park I had walked a thousand times, most of them with somebody besides me.

But not tonight.

Tonight I was alone, with only a stream of endless thoughts to keep me company. Sometimes I wished they'd just shut up. Just leave me to die somewhere far removed from other people's sights. It would be so much easier.

The calming noise of New York City during night would be a good ambience, but it also might prove a challenge to not throw all of my hard work into the Hudson. I'm not gonna lie, I've thought about it once or twice.

Thoughts swirled around my head as I tried to figure out how to start the next god damned paper, all while hiking through the woods to the fountain, when I paused at the last minute, my stomach twisting. Memories of Thomas and I going up here together to look at the stars played through my head. If I could go back in time at any moment, I would go back to the first night we sat out in the park, gazing up at the beautiful celestial beings.

And I would cherish every single second of that night.

It was strange, actually. I felt empty. I had been feeling like this for the past week. And all though a part of me wanted to blame Thomas, I knew I couldn't.

Have you ever been stuck in a situation where you just have no clue what to do, and you'd rather just not do it and leave it to someone else? I wanted someone else to take care of my problems for me, as stupid as that sounds. I wanted to lay down in the grass, close my eyes, and not think about anything for a long time.

Or go into a coma.

If would be like death without the commitment.

You never really know when everything's going perfect until everything falls apart, huh? Ironic.

I swallowed down the memories and thoughts like a shot of liquor and continued on my way, until I reached the fountain still gushing water even with nobody around to notice it. The nice breeze relaxed my body and I closed my eyes for a mere second, breathing in the air. Nothing like early Spring in the city.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw a figure sitting at the base of the fountain, legs curled up close to their body. It took me no time at all to recognize that silhouette, to place the forlorn way they looked up at the sky above them, searching for an escape or an answer or perhaps both. I studied the unmoving figure, their shape outlined in the park lights overhead, and found myself unable to speak. He looked so...ethereal. Part of a world I could never touch.

"Thomas?"

His head lifted slightly at the call of his name, but at first he didn't move, as if sure that I was some illusion of the fog rolling through the park. I didn't blame him, because for a long minute, I assumed he was the same. I assumed it was all just a dream, because that's what it's always been. Just one long dream, and you get to wake up at the end of it and feel all the more crushed knowing it wasn't real.

How could it be?

But eventually, he risked the disappointment of me not truly existing. Eventually, he gave in to temptation.

He turned around, saw me, and smiled. "Alexander?" Then he paused and let his gaze fall down to my chest. "Is that my hoodie?"

I glanced down. Sure enough, I was wearing his signature magenta hoodie. "Oh, yeah. I guess it is."

His smile was just as perfect as I remember, something that could never seem so real. And the second it graced my eyes, even if it only lasted for the briefest of moments, it felt as though that single smile melted away every last insecurity, ever last fear. And I returned it, the feeling so foreign but yet so familiar.

"I was looking for it everywhere," he said, softly. "I—I'm glad you found it."

"Uh, yeah," I returned. Out here in the fresh, open air of the park, the smell of his perfume washed over me, something that had already began to fade from my life. From our bed. But it clung to the hoodie, and it amazed me I hadn't noticed it before. He'd want it back, I'm sure. Fuck, how could I give something like this up? My last connection to him, my only chance to breathe?

"Well... can I have it back?"

"No!"

Thomas smiled in amusement. "Y'know what, keep it. It looks better on you anyway."

"Damn right it does," I said, earning myself a small chuckle from him. He slid aside, patting the space on the edge of the fountain right next to him. The thought of being so close to him again, close enough to brush his hand with mine, made my heart skip a beat or two in my chest. But I acquiesced anyway, eager to have him close again, to pretend that nothing had changed.

To go back to that night that seems centuries away.

I walked over to where he was sitting and sat down next to Thomas. "What're you doing?"

"Worshipping Satan, Alexander, what does it look like?" he said, trying to lighten the dark-as-night mood that neither of us would acknowledge, but there was little humor behind his voice.

"Thanks, Thomas," I said, trying to smile and finding myself failing. "But I don't need worshipping." I hated how my words cracked as I said that. I hated how Thomas cast me a sad and knowing look. I hated how James Madison had taken Thomas away from me.

I hated everything.

We were silent for a few moments, listening to the sweet, mournful song of the nightingales as they whispered from their hiding places. The symphony of the night, so passive and seemingly small, yet so impossible to interrupt. But finally, Thomas spoke, bridged the gap that only widened day by day.

"Y'know, I've always hated the city. Loud. Bustling. Crowded. Not some of my favorite things. In fact, ask me any time of the day and I would always pick a nice, wide open field where all you can see is sky for forever over the overpopulated streets of the city. But there's something to be said about New York City at night. It's somehow... better when everything's gone to sleep. Even though it's still kinda bustling, it's welcome. I don't know why, and I don't think I could explain it to you any better than I have, but I just love the city at night."

I smiled softly. "Well, I personally think the city is fantastic any time of day."

Thomas shrugged. "That's your opinion. I mean, it's wrong, but it's your opinion."

I scoffed. "Sure, Thomas. Sure."

He laughed softly. "Um, I didn't mean to ignore you, the other day. I wanted to respond, I just...I didn't know what to say. So I didn't say anything. But it meant a lot, so thank you," he whispered, lowering his head.

"Oh, uh...it's okay. Umm, you're welcome," I stammered, my words failing me when I needed them most. Ironic how that works, huh? You can talk for hours and hours about nothing but the second it actually matters, and there's nothing to be said, no sentiments that can fill the broken gaps he had left behind.

There was that dreaded silence again. I had no clue what to say. Strangely, I had found that I often didn't know what to say the more I was around Thomas. He leaned forward, and the light danced across his neck, and my stomach plummeted at the sight of the bruises that had already begun to decorate his skin. How on earth was that fair? I opened my mouth to say something, but his fingers were tracing the cracked stone of the fountain, eyes unfocused as if he were a million miles away, so I decided to leave it at that.

Finally, I spoke. "Why?"

My voice cracked, revealing just how weak I was. How stupid. Was I anything more than a useless child wandering around, waiting to be saved? I had worked so hard to prevent that, but the second he leaves, look what happens.

Thomas seemed to understand what I was asking. "Small sacrifices are easy to make for people you love."

I smiled sadly at the memory, feeling my eyes well up with tears but quickly brushed them away. "That never was from a book, was it?"

"Well," he said, leaning backwards and glancing up at the pitch black sky above us. Even though there were no stars to be seen,
I still reveled in the thought of them looking down at us, blind to our fleeting problems, deaf to our cries of woe. It felt somehow, as though they were protecting us, shielding us from whatever outside force loomed too close. But that was ridiculous.

Stars were just stars.

"I'm sure it's been written before, perhaps a million times in a million different ways. But no, I didn't find it from a book."

"Oh." I blinked, my mouth dry with all the things I'd never be able to say. "That's...oh."

He shrugged, glanced over at me. "So what are you doing out here, anyway?"

"I just... I don't know. I needed fresh air."

"Couldn't sleep?" he murmured softly, his hand reaching across the great divide between us and gently brushing against my fingers. I sucked in a deep breath, starting at the spot where skin met skin, where his warmth pooled into my cold, empty husk of a body, and even for a moment, I breathed new life.

"Umm," I said. "I haven't...I don't really get a lot of sleep anymore." I wanted to kick myself the second the words left my mouth. It was not his problem. What the fuck was wrong with me?

"Alexander!" he reprimanded, his hand gripping my wrist as he turned me around to face him. "You have to sleep!"

"I can't, okay? I need you, and you left. And now, because you're gone, I get all these stupid fucking nightmares I'd rather do without! So thanks for that, by the way!" I slammed my hands over my mouth the very second the words left my mouth to sour the air, cursing my stupidity, wishing I hadn't been so...so thoughtless. So fucking stupid. "I'm so sorry, swear, I didn't mean that. You know what? I...I shouldn't bother you. I'll go, I'm sorry—"

"No!" he exclaimed, his hand encircling around my wrist as I made to stand up. That one motion stopped me, and he managed to do the one thing nobody else had ever done before, not even me in regards to him.

He managed to get me to stay.

"Please don't go." His voice, like a symphony of the most beautiful noises ever, cut through the near silence. It halted me in my tracks, made me yearn for a better time when this wasn't how things were always meant to end.

Still, I sat back down, this time leaving no space between us. Thomas rested his head on my shoulder, drew in a deep breath, and sighed. I hesitated, wished I hadn't, and wrapped my arm around his waist. For a long moment, we sat there, still as two statues forever trapped in this park, but frankly, there was no place I'd rather have been than by his side. We listened to the birds, chirping softly in their hiding places, to the gurgle of the water down the fountain, to the song of the breeze as it whispered through the leaves. It was a perfect snapshot of a memory I wish had been real, something to hold onto and give me just another spark of hope.

God knows I needed it.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you."

He glanced up at me, the warmest fire alight in his eyes. "It's okay, Alexander. I understand."

Of course he did. Because he was amazing, because he was the best thing that has ever graced this awful world that just loves to take the most innocent, happy people and twist them until they're broken beyond recognition. Because Thomas is Thomas and I have just proven yet again than I have never deserved somebody like him, nor will there ever be anything I can ever do to earn that right.

"Whatcha writing?" he asked, nodding to the pen and paper I kept clutched in my hands, afraid to let the rest of the world see what I had etched down.

It took me a minute to even remember, much less judge its importance. Thomas made me forget about everything else that could never matter half as much as he did, made that compulsion to write the world away suddenly obsolete. "It's umm, just Polisci," I said.

"Poly?" His eyes lit up, leaning forward with barely concealed excitement at the idea. "Wait that's a class?"

"Not that kind of poly," I returned, unable to hide my laugh. God it felt so fucking good to laugh. When had been the last time since I had done so? It feels like ages. "Political science. I'm still working on those essays. You know, the ones where we have to break down the faults of one of the great governments of the past and explain why it failed and how it can be improved? I figured I'd start detailing just exactly how the financial system of the one we're looking at could be improved in an effort to consolidate—why are you smiling at me like that?"

"You're adorable," Thomas laughed, nudging me softly with his shoulder.

"I am not!"

"You are too!"

Not adorable enough for him to have stayed with me, though.

Stop being a fucking dick, Alexander.

"Wait," he said. "Is this the project that you're doing with...well... John Jay and—"

"Yep."

"Oh." He swallowed, staring down at his hands. As if the mere thought of him was enough to make the shadows brought forth by the street lights overhead grow just a bit more.

I changed the subject as quickly as possible, fearing exactly what lurked in those growing shadows.

"Well," I said, pushing down the thought and shoving the paper to my side, out of view and out of mind. It could wait until later. "What are you doing up?"

He shrugged. "I'd figure I'd try and see if there were any stars out tonight. But I guess I found something better instead."

And then, of course, his smile fell, and the ground seemed to give way underneath my feet.

"I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything, I guess. This was...this was such a mistake. I can't believe I let this go so far. I can't believe I let myself use you like this."

"You didn't use me! Thomas, I—I don't..." I couldn't complete the thought, couldn't tear myself open just to see everything come crumbling down around me again. And in my silence, Thomas continued.

"This was so unfair to you. I never should have—well, it doesn't matter now, does it?" He stared at the ground, his eyes glimmering in the light. His arms hugged his body, head lowered. He looked so... defeated. "Now's your chance to be happy, I guess."

"You make me happy!" I exclaimed. Oh, how long ago had it been since I first told him that, caught up in the euphoria of his confession, of knowing I mattered to him the same way he mattered to me? What I wouldn't give to have that night back, to have any of the nights we shared back. "Th-Thomas," I stuttered out. "I—I couldn't imagine a life without you. I need you."

"You don't need me, Alexander."

"Thomas—"

"No, it's the truth. You don't need me. You'll find someone who really deserves you and then you'll forget about me and then everything will be as it should be."

My heart curled in on itself the second the words left his mouth, hurt by the mere suggestion of what he proposed. Thomas shifted away from me, his eyes tracing the black sky above us, looking for something that simply wasn't there. The roar of the water fountain had never seemed so loud, nor his empty silence so deafeningly quiet.

"What do you mean, 'as it should be'?"

"Look. It was a mistake to ever leave James. It was absolutely amazing while it lasted. It was like... jumping out of a plane. You're not sure if what you're doing is the safest decision, but you do it anyway and you have an amazing time and discover that maybe you were meant to fly, to be up in the air for as long as you can. But soon enough, you get back to earth and you realize that you can't possibly hope to ever have that chance again. If I had never have left, you all would've been so much happier without me. You would never have had to put up with me. You would still hate me, and that might have been for the better. So... can you do me a favor and start hating me again? We can pretend that this never happened and everything can go back to normal."

My heart plummeted, just to hear him speak. Just to hear what he assumed was right and wrong. "Thomas—" I began, but I could hardly breathe in the wake of the implications behind his words, much less shape the incoherent thoughts rambling through my mind into the pristine, perfect words I needed them to be. I had tried to speak, and I had failed so many times before. I had tried to get him to stay, to convince him that there wasn't a single thing I wouldn't do for him, or anybody I had ever wanted quite as much as I wanted him, but it had never been enough. I had failed, time and time again.

But I still had to try. Because, god fucking dammit, I am not letting the best thing that has ever happened to me walk out of my life.

"I don't want to pretend this never happened, Thomas! How many times do I have to tell you that you're the only person in this entire world that I want before you start to believe it? You are enough for me, and you always have been, okay? We can figure this out, we can fuck James over and make sure he never so much as touches you wrong again. Please, just let me help you, just let me be yours."

Thomas's eyes softened, so many things passing in those infinite pools of twin galaxies that it broke every part of me to know that I would never again wake up to them being the very first thing I saw in the morning. He reached across the gap between us, taking my hand in his, squeezing softly to say more than words ever could.

Words could be silenced, this could not.

"It's too late Alexander. This is for the better."

God, I hated how defeated his voice sounded. How empty.

"It's not too late—"

"You don't need me. You deserve so much better. I'm doing this for you. Please, just let me. You've all given me so much, so let me protect you. Please just let me do this."

"I—"

"Tell the others I said hi, okay? I should probably go before James wakes up and gets angry at me."

He stood up, flashed me the softest, saddest smile. An apology and a warning all mixed together, and it left me so numb. Thomas turned away from me, bringing his smile with him, and took a step away. It seemed to happen in slow motion, forcing me to watch and suffer for every second it took for him to leave in the darkness once more.

But now, it was my turn. To reach out and grab his arm, to beg him to stay. Because I couldn't imagine what a life without him would be like, because I'm selfish and I needed to hold onto his light for just a few moments longer. I was afraid of the dark and he was the moon, sent to protect me from the worst of the monsters that lurked in it. Because I needed him, whether he thought so or not, and I always would.

"You asked me to stay. And I did. So now, I'm asking you to stay."

Thomas halted, his shoulders falling.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be. Please." Darkness formed a ring around him, but I held on.

"I'm sorry, Thomas, but that's what you signed up for," I managed out between barely choked down tears, and to my surprise and delight, he laughed. It was light but powerful, fleeting but strong.

I gripped his hand tighter, hoping it would say more than I ever could. "Please. Just...please stay for an hour longer? I want your company. I want you."

He didn't move, and for a second, I was terrified of his answer, terrified I would have to walk home alone again, remember what it is like to live in a world missing his light. But finally, he sighed, and returned to his seat at the fountain, sinking down gracefully.

"I can stay for another hour."

"Two?"

"Alexander—"

"Hour and a half?"

He laughed again, and it filled my heart with the lightest ecstasy, returning me to heights that I hadn't reached since he left. "Don't push your luck."

"Aww, damn," I said, happy to laugh, happy that this time, he chose me. "My cuteness isn't working?"

He cast me a glare that I know he didn't mean in the slightest, judging solely by his smile.

I grinned, sinking down in his hoodie, and he hurriedly looked away before I could say anything else.

Laughing for the sake of it, I wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close to me. He set his head on my shoulder, and for the briefest moment, everything was like before. I could breathe easily, inhale the fragrant scent of roses, and bid my troubles goodbye.

"I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?" he whispered, voice softer than rain.

"No! Of course not! Please...this is wonderful."

Thomas laughed softly, gazing up at the sky with me. He pointed to a spot in the sky, one that was still fogged over with the glare of the city lights surrounding us on all sides. "Cetus Eridanus is supposed to be right there. Maybe if we look hard enough we can see it?"

"Cetus Eridanus?" I repeated.

"It's a constellation. S'pposed to represent a river, but if I'm being honest, they all kinda look like rivers."

"You know a lot about stars?"

"Oh, uh," he began, his face flushing. His smile became an embarrassed one, but a smile nonetheless. "Don't tell anybody, but I was a huge nerd when I was a kid."

"No! You?" I said, screwing up my voice in the most exaggerated way just so he knew I was joking.

"Shock of all shocks, I know. But yeah, I used to have a lot of the stars and all the constellations memorized. Looking back on it, I guess I could have actually spent the time learning, you know, important things?" he said, laughing softly.

"There's nothing more important than what makes you happy. Tell me more about them!"

An hour turned into two, which eventually turned into four. And still, time flew past us completely unlike it had at any point in the past two weeks or so, and it wasn't long before the sky bled into a tender shade of light blue, the morning birds beginning to practice their song as they guided in a new day.

"We should do this again," I murmured, only reluctantly letting go of him when he checked his phone with a poorly concealed note of worry.

Thomas sighed, his breath warm against the bare skin of my neck. It took everything I had not to kiss him, for it had become an instinct ingrained in my mind.

"We should. The building James and I live in has a roof, you know."

"Most buildings have roofs, Thomas."

"Forget it."

"No! No, I'm kidding! Please, go on."

"Well, I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to meet up there at some point? It could be fun," he said, clinging to me tighter.

"I'd do it in a heartbeat, as long as I get to spend time with you."

"Only if you promise to try and get some sleep this night."

"Well, I'll try. But only because you're so cute."

I ended up walking him home, holding his hand as we slipped through the mostly empty streets in the wake of the transition period between relieving night and overbearing day. Saying goodbye to him as we stood outside his building was one of the worst things I've ever had to do, but it left me slightly giddy, knowing it was only a matter of time before I saw him again, before we got to spend another night reveling in the light of the stars, even if they wasn't visible from where we were. They were still watching over us, still protecting us from whatever outside thing may even attempt to hurt us.

And I would do anything to see him again.

So, when I returned to the home we used to share, I laid down in the bed and closed my eyes, letting out a deep breath, and tried to sleep.

It didn't last very long, but at least I dreamt of sitting in the starlight and Thomas's bright smile as we faced the world together, just as we were always meant to.