Shut Up and Drive (A Troyler Fanfiction)

Ignite-'He felt alive.'

  Yes, hi, hello, good day to you. I am back and sorry for the late update as I am very stressed right now. This chpater killed me internally and I just don't even know what I do to myself. Don't get your hopes up just yet however they will be resolving their fight in the next chapter or two. But how, is what you need to find out (; Anyway, kill yourself by playing a slow song with this chapter and erm, enjoy I guess (: I love you all lots and lots, please enjoy <3

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The cold was starting to affect him. He pulled his knees closer to his chest; wrapping his long arms round them and feeling a shiver resonate through his entire body. His head was pounding but too clear, he didn’t want to think straight. He took another sip of the cheap coffee; the bitter taste was foul in his mouth. He pulled a face at the taste but appreciated the warmth that began blossoming in his stomach, letting it spread through his body. He wrapped his slender fingers round the cup and sat hunched over in the booth, letting his lips rest on the rim of the dirty mug. The neon sign in the window was flashing in the corner of his eye and the rain was hurling down against the window. Troye sighed as he leaned his elbows on the table. He let his eyes look at his phone next to him till displaying the same thing it had for the past almost two weeks. No messages, calls or anything. No contact from him.

   Troye let his eyes fall shut in disappointment, a familiar wave of hurt washing through him. He let out a groan, running his fingers through the roots of his hair again. Since his breakdown and talk with Sage he had been venturing out of his room to a small, rundown coffee shop in a deserted part of town. It was nothing special, it was dirty and the coffee was awful. The waitress would just shoot him glares, reluctant to work. He was usually their only customer apart from the odd creepy old man or stressed teenager. Anyone else would just walk in and straight back out again. There was an odd tune playing faintly in the place but apart from that it was silent. Troye had somehow found comfort in the place, enjoying the silence and the fact that he didn’t have to interact with people. His family simply thought he was okay again, getting out more when that was far from the sad, sad truth.

    In fact getting out was worse. Troye constantly thought he saw him when he didn’t, hoped he would catch a glimpse of his walking down the straight. Maybe he would see him standing waiting for a bus, doing that adorable thing with his feet. Maybe he would see him trying to hold all the shopping bags, doing sassy poses and faces as he walked along. Or even better, maybe he would see that smile playing across his face. The one where he would try not to smile but he ended up grinning like an idiot, his cheeks glowing. Troye loved that smile, cheesy but true. It was a selfish thought but Troye hoped Tyler was alone. He wouldn’t be able to deal with it if he was with someone already, having someone comforting him. That was still Troye’s job and he needed to know that no one else was doing it for him. Tyler was still his and he was still Tyler’s, no matter what.

   He just needed to do something but he didn’t know what. He was terrified to call him because of what happened last week and that would kill him if that happened again. That killed him physically to hear him being called things that only Troye should be speaking to him. He wasn’t their ‘baby’ and he wasn’t anyone else’s ‘baby’. He was Troye’s baby and that was it. Troye drank down the rest of his coffee and laid a few coins on the table. He pulled his jacket on and exited the café, pulling his hood over and burying himself in the warmth. The rain was coming down harder now and he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t go home; he couldn’t go to Tyler’s. He found himself wandering towards a nearby park. It was mainly deserted apart from the odd dog walker cursing about the weather. He took a seat on one of the swings that belonged to a rusty old swing set. He kept his hands in his pockets, pushing himself softly off the floor using his foot. He just swung back and forth without any height, occasionally twisting round the seat so the chains squeaked.