Pretty Boy.

Time.

//Marcs' point of view//

Today is Taylors' second day in the hospital. Today is my second day without him. Today is the second day i live knowing i almost lived forever without him. I considered skipping school a great deal of times because just thinking about him puts me in such a state that i can barely focus on anything. My mind's constantly racing and the thought of Tay in such a bad place gives me shivers. But its not a bad place, and i keep having to remind myself that. He's just there for a bad reason. He's there to get help, i tell myself hating that Taylor being so far away from me has been on my mind for a solid thirty hours now. I know its been thirty hours because ive counted each ten minutes between the time i left him to now, ive been sleepless and fucking exhausted and i just want him back. I just want him better.
I look up to a clock just to realize another five minutes has passed. It's felt like five hours, but i watch the second hand slowly creep its way around the clock and make it six. seven. eight. nine. ten. Its now been thirty hours, ten minutes, and lets see, seven seconds since i left Taylor.

*           *          *

School is out, I've done nothing today. Ive just been staring at the time, something that's been fucking breaking me down. I left Taylor at five am. its been thirty four hours, forty eight minutes, and only god knows how many seconds. I drive to the abandoned building i visited just a day and a half ago, and climb up many stairs to the very top of the building. it towers over this small town, and i reach into my bag for one of the many boxes of cigarettes ive got stored in there. I knew id be stressed so i packed up as if i were preparing for an apocalypse and planned on dying via lung cancer and not zombies. I let a cigarette rest on my lips for a few minutes staring out into the city, seeing cars passing. I waste a few minutes before pulling the lighter out of my pocket and lighting it. I waste a few more minutes smoking, thinking more and more about how much i miss Taylor. how this may actually break us apart. how much ive never realized i wanted to die when i don't have him by my side letting me know things are okay. 
He always told me it'll be okay. No matter what state he was in, it was okay. But only for me. He was literally minutes away from death and if he was able to speak he would have told me i will be okay. I will power through this. But he cant tell me that anymore.
I look to my phone and i go through the annoying messages I've sent his mother, finding the number to the hospital. I dial, and i wait. Thirty four hours. fifty nine minutes. some seconds i don't care to count. a nurse picks up and tells me the area I've reached and i ask to speak to Taylor, they check his call list to okay it and i hear them call his name. I hear a small 'yes' from the room the nurse is in and my face lights up. The rustling of handing another person a phone fills my ears and my chest feels so high i might just pass out.
"hello?"
"hi, baby"
"Marcus, i-"
"i miss you too." Taylor laughs on the other end, but the laugh sounds almost forced. He's still sad. "how have things been so far?"
"they've been alright. I met new people, I already don't like some of them. A girl here thinks its hot that my ribs show."
"first off she shouldn't be flirting in a psychiatric ward. that's just weird. Second, she can back off because i think its really hot that you're my love and not hers." he laughs again. it doesn't sound so forced. There's a few minutes of silence but i love it, knowing he's still there. Hes able to speak to me. "I love you Taylor. You've been eating, right?" i can feel taylor tense up even though we're cities apart.
"i've been trying my best. I'm not allowed to use the bathroom unsupervised until an hour after our meals passes. So i've eaten but its not all too much..." theres more silence. "i love you more."
i smile and i hope he knows he makes me happy. "thats impossible, i love you most." that small laugh comes again and im glad he went from forced to natural laughing, it makes me beyond ecstatic that i make him feel better. 
"you suck, Marc."
"you love me."
"of course i do,silly. But i've got to go, phone calls have a certain amount of time."
"alright love i understand. Have a good rest of your day."
"you too."
beep...

its been one minute, two seconds since i last talked to Taylor.