Detached [boyxboy]

t h r e e

The next two days were spent with Casimir.

Noah rose bright and early every morning, leaving his parents a note of his whereabouts before heading down to the park. They stayed there for hours on end talking and laughing, and Noah began to feel as though things were going back to normal.

On some occasions, wherein they lay side by side looking up at the sky as darkness neared, or when they would hug each other tight, Noah would have to remind himself not to do what he most desired. Because Casimir was straight and if there was one thing Noah didn't need to do right now was ruin their friendship, the one good thing he had going for himself at the moment.

As Noah woke on the third day, however, he felt something other than excitement swirling in his stomach. Before he had time to comprehend what was happening, he was bounding to the bathroom, barely managing to make it on time to throw up into the toilet bowl.

The next three days weren't so good.

Just when things were starting to look up, life comes and pulls them back down. Like a twisted form of gravity, with a personal vendetta against Noah.

A storm had come, in the shape of a crippling spell of depression and sickness. Though the doctors had warned them this would be a regular occurrence, it didn't ease his parents worried minds in any way.

It all became a blur, as night morphed into day. Noah lay thrown against the toilet, vomiting. He cried for hours, and had spells of fainting, waking up every time more and more confused. Nightmares about the accident, frustration at the fact that the nightmares were a blur.

Tuesday morning rolled around and for the first time in three days, Noah didn't wake up with the immediate urge to vomit.

He spent the day in bed, staring up at the ceiling and cursing his stupid sickness.

This small improvement was actually an indicator, as over the next day or two he recovered, sleeping off his bout of sickness.

On Thursday morning Noah woke feeling relatively normal, and his first thought was that he had to go see Casimir. Picking up his phone, he wrote Cas a quick text to arrange a time and a place.

A knock sounded at his door as he was about to rise out of bed, and Noah croaked out a throaty "come in."

His parents entered the room, his dad carrying a breakfast tray in hand. "You feeling better?" He asked with a small smile, which Noah returned as best he could.

"Yeah, much." He affirmed with a nod. His dad left the tray of food on the nightstand beside him, before both his parents took a seat at the foot of his bed.

"Glad to hear it dear." His mom said, a hopeful smile on her face. Noah was starting to get sick of all the smiling in this house. "Well, rest up today and you'll probably right as rain tomorrow."

Noah nodded, before stopping himself. "Wait, I've got plans today actually."

His mother cast a worried look across to his father, before turning to face him again. "Noah honey, I'm sorry but that's just not happening."

"I've got plans," he repeated. "With Casimir."

If his mother looked worried before, she was now positively alarmed. "Noah.." she began, looking over at her husband desperately, willing for him to say something. He too, however, seemed to be at a loss for words.

At this stage Noah was getting annoyed. What weren't they telling him. "What is it?" He spat out, standing up out of the bed and disregarding the breakfast tray completely.

"Hey Noah, calm down." His dad said, trying to persuade him gently though Noah could see the alarm on his face.

"Don't tell me not to calm down. You don't have that right. Neither of you do. Maybe if someone told me what the fuck was going on then I'd be calm. Maybe if I didn't feel so fucking alienated all the time, like I'm some unstable kid that everyone pities but nobody knows how to act around."