The last strands (#Tronnor)

Chapter 15: The storm

Here he was again.

The leaves danced wild, like the music of the storm. The torrent fell on the earth with no regrets, no return to the heavens. It was colder than hell and lonelier than ever, and all the music of the world was gone, leaving behind nothing other than the promise of silence and the murmurs of the tempest.

Step by step, Troye walked through the streets of the city of sun, now the darkest city of them all. He had decided to walk instead of taking a car or a bus. He felt like his mind and his heart needed this darkness, this water. To cleanse and to cool down the aching. What had he done? What had he left behind at Connor's apartment door? Some would say his dignity, his pride. Others would say that no, instead he's just left his fears. In a way he had surrendered to Connor by coming clean. Admitting to knowing more than what he said, more than what he wanted to know. But what else could he do? His time was up. The flight was only a few days away, and he had run out of ways to help his friend.

If only he had pushed himself more to help himself instead of Connor, perhaps he wouldn't be walking on his own under the rain. Troye laughed under his breath due to self-pity at the thought of Marly giving him the "I told you so" look as soon as she got her chance.

But as time would have it, Troye had to eventually reach his hotel. By then the rain was already coming down with force, and his clothes were beyond damp. At the lobby he was received by the kind mister who always stayed during the night shift. He was listening to his portable radio, apparently trying to catch something besides static.

-"Good evening Mr. Mellet!"-said the receptionist-"Quite the storm out there is it?"

-"Good evening..."-Troye said, picking up his keys from the counter-"Yeah it's gotten pretty bad... I had no clue it was going to rain today."

-"Oh the weather channel has been announcing typhoon for a few days now. I was just trying to catch the news on my good ol' radio but the thing's not doing it for me. Have a good night."

-"Thanks... you too. Good luck with the radio."

The least Troye thought he could have was a good night, but little did he care. A stranger's good wishes should always be well received.

He made his way through the dim corridor and into the elevator, and then to his room's floor. It would usually be silent, but the thunders from the outside made the entire building rumble. He liked it a bit. In a way it was strangely soothing, like there was a background score to his state of mind.

Once inside his room Troye realized just how tired he actually was. He didn't have to check his wall mirror twice to see that, either. He took off his jacket and threw it on the floor, then jumping on the bed. He didn't even bother to turn on the lights, he preferred the dark much better, but he did leave his drapes open to let in some city lights from the outside, and to see the rain pour down on the window. Out of habit he took out his phone and checked his messages, and saw that Tyler had texted him, saying that he was with Zoey and that she was fine. They weren't back at his place, though. Apparently she didn't feel like seeing Alfie that night. Troye wasn't to blame for what happened at all, but still he felt slightly bad for the couple. It's unusual for two people to be that right for each other.

Was the boy with the green eyes right for him?

No, he couldn't dwell in his thoughts again. Not tonight.

Wanting to get his mind off things, he took his phone and, connecting it to the room's stereo, turned on some music. Something by Young the Giant was playing, though he wasn't really paying attention on what. Seeing that he wasn't really getting anywhere, Troye took off his clothes and headed into his bathroom, turning on his shower a filling up the room with steam. He got in, closed his eyes, and breathed.