Noah Mitchell and The Theory of Alternate Universes √ (BoyxBoy)

21

Raindrops pitter-pattering down the grassy land. Droplets hitting my shoulders rolling down to my back. 

I stood still as I watch Elliot. His whole body vulnerable to the world, naked for everyone to see.

But no one is here. No one but me. 

And I see him, all of him. The beautiful, magnificent, fucked up, broken him. I see him.

My feet moved forward. My body moving away from the tree that was shielding me from the downpour. 

I didn't mind the rain. I didn't even realized that it was soaking my book. I don't have the luxury to care. My mind consisted of Elliot. Elliot. Elliot.

Is he okay? Obviously not. 

But what's wrong? I have no idea.

He's going to be sick. 

I stood behind him. He's kneeling in the ground, eyes still closed and facing the sky.

I reached out to him, hands slightly quivering. My hand gripping his shoulder.

His eyes opened, eyes looking at me. But it feels like he didn't saw me, it's like he was looking at me but not really. 

That's when I saw it, the hurt and the pain behind his glassy eyes. I was taken aback and so I stayed like that for a while. 

An alarm suddenly went off, his watch beeping continuously. He moved his jacket out of the way.

'11:11' the clock shows. 

He sighed, a deep and heavy sigh. Then shook his head a little, droplets falling from his hair. 

"Let's go?" I said, but it came out more like a question.

He blinked a few times, eyes focusing on me, for what feels like the first time. 

It was like he didn't even realized I was there. 

I could see him suppressing his emotions. Building a wall in his eyes. Brick by brick. 

He gulped then nodded his head. Slowly standing up. I step back, giving him the space that he needs. 

He rubbed his hands in his face, then brushed up the little hairs sticking in to his forehead. 

He didn't acknowledge my presence when he started walking, hands tucked inside his leather jacket.

I was left gaping, staring at the back of his head. His hair straight and water droplets falling from it and tracing his leather jacket. 

"You coming?" he asked, his head tilting to the side. His side profile is gorgeous as ever. 

I nodded even though he couldn't see it. Then silently followed his retreating body.

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I feel like we were just walking round and round. 

Elliot is walking ahead of me, not even looking back at me. 

And I was just forced to look at him as he slowly walk, hands never moving from the pockets of his jacket. 

I shivered while walking. The rain has stopped pouring now, but the chilly air is nipping at my soaked skin. 

No doubt that I would catch a cold in the morning. 

I'm afraid to talk. Afraid that I would say something wrong. Afraid that he would break right in front of my eyes.

Because if he did, then I wouldn't know what to do. I don't know how to pick up the pieces. 

Ways off in front of me I saw Elliot's silhouette crouching down to a bench. I jogged a little faster to his figure.