Through the Screen

noah flinches slightly as his teeth tear the already bitten flesh of his lower lip, and his fingers tighten around the soft material of the jacket in his hands as he quietly approaches a completely oblivious abel. noah watches as abel 's legs bob up and down impatiently, his eyes fixed on the cloudless sky and his forehead a mess of uncountable curls.

when noah is three feet away, and his shoes scruff against a dry patch of mud, is when abel breaks free from his trance, his cheeks blooming a soft pink and his rosy lips pursed as he looks at noah ; coffee eyes drowning in spoonfuls of concern.

"a-are you okay?" abel asks hurriedly, his voice small as he gets off the bench and quickly rushes to noah, both his hands involuntarily gripping noah's arms, before he lets go and steps back, the blush on his cheeks dripping down slowly towards the collar of his shirt and staining his neck.

"i'm fine," noah answers, staring at abel for a moment before holding out the jacket in his hands, and abel just furrows his eyebrows for a moment.

"it's cold and you're clearly not wearing enough clothes," noah rolls his eyes, and abel flushes, thanking him quietly before pulling the sleeves over his arms and letting the heavy fabric sit on his shoulders—the faint scent of noah, the smallest spray of his cologne, the unmistakable trace of mint makes abel feel more at home than he actually does in the apartment.

shut because he has been desperately longing for comfort since whatever happened between him and noah. he feels slightly pathetic for being this comforted by a simple article of clothing, but the way noah's jacket seems to hug him

eyes shielded with his thick black rimmed glasses, and his dark hair branching all over his forehead and abel just looks at him worriedly before

of his nose is tinted pink,

so mad at him, and he is so hurt, and he is so confused and angry and anxious—he still wants to hold abel and he

off his forehead, eyes drifting from abel to

noah's insecurity, adrian, noah breaking down on the phone, noah's mother—and abel doesn't know which one to break. he watches noah instead, his soft pink lips roughly bitten and his soft blue

but he doesn't know which one. noah looks at him, his movements traced with fear and his eyes filled with worry and abel wants to step forward and hold noah close to him and

into place once the smallest and the