Attachments (Tronnor AU)

Air

 noun

       • the mixture of invisible gases surrounding the earth; the earth's atmosphere; the empty, open space; a light breeze; aircraft, aviation; outward appearance, demeanour; a pervading influence; (music) a melody; (plural) an affected manner.

transitive verb

       • to expose to the air for drying; to expose for public notice; (clothes) to place in a warm locale to finish drying.  

Connor spends a long time doing nothing after that. He doesn't have any classes today, doesn't have the busy schedule he did before he met Troye. All he has is an empty apartment blocking out the autumn cold and photographs he used to be so proud of hanging on pristinely painted walls.

It feels like too much and nothing at all, a stark contrast to the chipped concrete fountain and lively town square he's grown so accustomed to. It feels like he's breathing a different form of air, like he's inhaling acid and emptiness rather than frost and soft music. It feels like he's choking on the sudden realization that his entire life has shifted so completely in such a short amount of time.

He takes deep breaths, short breaths, no breaths. He breathes until the air fills up his lungs to bursting proportions and then holds it until there's holes punctured through his skipping heart.

He breathes until he's staring at a vibrant image of a butterfly taking off from a carnation landing pad and his hands are twitching so violently for his camera that it feels like they might tremble their way right off his body. Then, he snatches up the tempting device and grabs his phone off the counter, shooting a text to his mom to call him when she gets the chance.

The apartment door closes behind him with a click, much softer than the last time it was shut.