Street Youth Rising ~Septiplier~

Feels Like Home

-- Jack --

It's been nearly a week since I've seen Mark. I'm starting to feel like he's not coming back at all - that alone killing me. I've never seen someone who can just so easily walk away from what was so wonderful. How the hell did he do it? Oh, who am I kidding? At times I was overbearing and I had a habit of forcing him into situations he was uncomfortable with. That was a big flaw of mine. Then again, he did say he wanted some adventure and to live a little. No real harm ever overcame him. I protected him. I kept him safe from any danger and harm that could have come to him. What did I not give him that he could have wanted? Even if we faced discrimination because of our relationship, I would have held him and reassured him and told him he was amazing and that nothing would ever change how I feel about him. But he's not going to stay. He's just like everyone else.

So to drown my sorrows and self anger, I find myself walking and thinking about Mark. Wanting him. Needing him to be there with me.

I walked and walked until my legs were tired and I could hardly hold myself up. I found myself walking up a flight of stairs to an old apartment I haven't been to in a few weeks. Each and every stair I stepped on brought back a painful memory. Every single memory washed over me and made me weaker than I could ever imagine. By the time I got to the top I was almost dragging my feet.

I knocked on the door in front of me and just waited. No one came to open it for me. I turned around and slumped against the door, sobs freely pouring from my lips and tears gently flowing down my face.

"Please..." I begged for someone to open the door.

Just as I began to beg, it started to snow and I finally guessed that no one was home. Freezing and tired, I curled up in a ball on the doorstep and began to drift off to sleep under the cold night sky. Tears escaped my eyes. I was pathetic. Weak. I couldn't believe I was like this. Over a teenage boy.

I finally went to sleep under the snow, my tears turning to ice on the landing.

•••

"Seán." A foot kicked me. "Seán, wake up." I was nudged again.

"I can't move." I barely whispered. My whole body was frozen and I could hardly manage myself. I felt strong hands grip my shoulders and haul me up.

"C'mon, Jack. Let's get your stupid arse inside." I saw Phil, hauling me into the warmth of his apartment.

Everything was as remembered. The smell of cigarettes, the flaking paint on the walls, the old couch, the crowded inn table, the red carpeting. He sat me on the couch and brushed the snow from my hair.

"Where is Dan?" I asked weakly.

Phil completely ignored me, going over to his kitchen and heating up some tea in the microwave.

"How long has it been since you've ate?" He asked.

"Y-yesterday." I shivered.

"Seán William, you should know better." He scolded, bringing me a hot cup of tea and a few warm crumpets.

For a moment, he disappeared into the back and came back with a change of clothes and a heater.

"Put these on and get out of those damp clothes. You'll catch bloody pneumonia." Phil told me.

I stood slowly and began to strip, uncaring of Phil being in the same room. We've been friends for years. I put on a pair of Phil's sweatpants, and one of Dans tee shirts. I hand Phil my clothes and he takes them in the back to wash them for me. A few moments later he comes back in and sits on the couch beside me.