Through the Screen

three years are apparently not enough for the silence to end because as soon as the initial surprise of seeing abel 's apartment, and discovering every little detail of the boxy place—from the way abel still doesn't make the bed when he gets out of it, or how the entire apartment is clean except for the mugs that will always find their place somewhere in the corner of a coffee table, or the way he still puts the tv remote in places he can't find—the couple cannot hold a conversation about anything even remotely important when they are enclosed in the four walls that could make or break this reunion.

abel shifts uncomfortably on the other end of the couch, shifting his gaze just slightly to look at the way noah seems completely unaffected by the distant between them, completely unaffected by how they haven't even hugged each other despite of being away from each other for years, how he doesn't even care enough to offer a conversation about what happened and what they are supposed to be and if they are supposed to be something.

he feels completely out of place—he can't bring up his own mistakes, he can't bring up noah's heartbreak, he can't bring up how shit of a father he was and how he wants to rejoin his own family and be a better addition than he was all those years ago. earlier in the day he felt as if postponing this conversation would be in their best interest but now as noah sits next to him, his lean body stretched across the other end of the sofa as his eyes watch the screen intently—abel regrets putting it off for later.

of course it hurt when he had to spend nights alone in this apartment and of course it took a lot, a lot of time to get used to a different set of walls but right now, the incapability of just wrapping his arms around noah's torso and crying into his chest and letting him know just how much abel has missed him is causing a pain in his chest on a whole new level.

he has worked hard on how to control his emotions, how to deal with them, how to control his impulsive nature—but all his recovery goes to waste in front of noah because there is only one person in the entire world who he can expect to understand him fully—and that one person is doing absolutely nothing to calm the chaos in his brain and the torment in his heart and in the usual abel roberts way of handling things he doesn't know how to handle—the feeling of apathy contorts into anger and aggression and pure adrenaline in his veins.

he tries to ignore it, the familiar heat in his chest, the more familiar watering of his eyes and he presses himself firmly against the backrest and purses his lips, watching 28 days later with no conviction whatsoever.

"i'm kind of hungry again, i think i'm getting really—abel? are you okay?" and abel can't answer the obviously fake question because if he opens his mouth he is going to ruin everything with either a bitter string of words or just the sour sobbing that he doesn't want noah to see anymore.

next best option and nods his head in agreement, shrugging

since he's forgotten how to breathe. and as soon as noah's

to be with him, if noah has gotten over him then he

that he wanted his mouth to slip, and neither did he want the stream of tears to drip down his face, so he takes a deep breath and turns his back to

"i don't,"

do, you still hate

hated you, what are

has to say something noah, because you won't say anything!" he knows this is the worst way of dealing with whatever they have right now—or lack of whatever they have right now—but he can't do anything about it. nothing in his body makes sense when

he can't admit that the majority of this. . .tantrum has been thrown because of the simple reason that he misses noah and he can't do

"no,"

"please?"

his head tilted down so he doesn't have to face the embarrassment of his actions. "you didn't even hug me," that sentence coming from a twenty four year old man is depressing and embarrassing on a whole new level.