[TAC] THREE'S A CROWD

Chapter 24

"Thank you for your...I don't really know what I'm supposed to be thanking you for, actually," New says matter-of-factly.

Arm laughs for a half second as he looks down at his hands, then back at New. "I don't know. I just feel bad. You're a good person and you don't deserve this."

New bites down on his lip as he thinks about that statement. "Maybe I do."

Arm furrows his eyebrows, taken aback by New's words. "You don't. Don't think that."

New nods his head even though he doesn't change his stance on how he feels as though maybe he deserves all of this pain. He's the one who brought it upon himself after all, right?

"Things will work out," Arm says, a tiny smile creeping onto his lips.

"Work out?" New asks incredulously, raising his eyebrows. "Work out?" he repeats a little louder. He ruffles up the textbook in front of him that's messy with loose papers sticking out of it from every side. "I can't even fucking---concentrate on any of my school work because I can't stop feeling like a horrible piece of shit for betraying his trust! And now I have to plan my entire year at uni around avoiding the one person I was going to spend my time with there! So no, Arm, I don't think it's going to work out, so you can take your cliche phrases and words of encouragement, and shove them up your ass!"

Arm sits there with his mouth agape, shocked and small as New glares at him. New eventually shakes his head, slapping his palm against his forehead as he starts to realize how harsh he was.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," New says, his eyes already starting to fill with tears. "I just---It's so hard. I can't do this," New continues, now full on sobbing in the corner of the cafeteria. He quickly wipes at his tears with the sleeves of his jacket and hopes no one has already spotted him and pointed him out.

"It's okay, New," Arm assures him, reaching out and stroking the back of New's hair, down to the nape of his neck. "You'll get through this. I'm always here if you want to talk."

"Thanks. Really," New says genuinely, sniffling as he looks at Arm.

~*~

New's realized long ago that he was too hot after covering himself in many layers of blankets, but now he's too lazy to move, so he stays put from where he's sat on the living room couch. He stares at the blank television in front of him, because he's too lazy to turn it on, and he also knows there's nothing he really cares to watch right now. He's not sure if he's been sitting like this for one hour or five, but regardless, there's no other way of which he's really of use in this world, so he'll be perfectly content sitting like this for the next four hundred years.

A tear prickles in the corner of his eye as he stares at the black T.V. screen, and he ignores it because of how he's become so accustomed to how unnecessarily often he cries now. He wonders how his tear ducts haven't run out of water yet.

He wants to stop crying, but he knows wishing such is no use. He wants everything he's ever done to be erased, so he can start off with a clean slate and karma will stop trying to beat him senseless.

He doesn't get too far into self deprecation before he hears the doorbell ring, causing him to groan. He really should've stared at a blank television upstairs, in his bedroom.

He doesn't stir, hoping that whoever's at the door would just leave, but when the doorbell rings again, he figures that won't be the case.

"Door's open!" he yells, burying himself deeper in blankets. His mom is going to kill him if this is a serial killer. That is, if the serial killer doesn't kill him first.

He doesn't turn his head to see who it is once the door opens, even though he knows the pure silence should alarm him. It probably would alarm him if he didn't have a friend who's extremely silent in everything he does, causing New to know exactly who it is.