Free Fall (boyxboy)

Chapter One

Mom had been a mess of tears and crumpled tissues. My father on the other hand had been stone cold.

He'd stood tight-lipped and firm. His mouth was a straight line and his jaw was set. He had eyes of steel and his rigid posture was angry and unyielding.

It wasn't as though he didn't care I was leaving - he did, immensely - but rather the reason as to why. He knew what had caused me to make this decision and his anger and pain was written into his body language.

"Dad." I'd said.

He had looked down at me. "You know how I feel about this."

"I do."

"And you know what I'll do if you just say the word."

"I know that too, but I've told you it's not necessary."

"You don't have to go, Troye," he'd told me. "We can figure this out as a family. You don't need Ja-"

"Please." I'd breathed heavily, closing my eyes shut as soon as memories began to swell in my head. "Please don't."

He'd looked at me with sympathy. There was anger and hostility in his expression but I could see further into his eyes where his real emotions lay.

Pain. Fear. Sorrow. Hopelessness. He couldn't help me and it pained him. His child was hurting and he couldn't do anything to take that feeling away.

It must've felt like he was trapped at the bottom of a sinking boat, but he wasn't the one that was drowning.

"I get why you're leaving, I do," he'd said. "But just don't forget all the ties that connect you to here. You'll always have a home here Troye, no matter who it's with. And when the day comes that you're ready to find it again, I'll be waiting with open arms."

"Dad," I'd choked out softly. "Goddamnit."

He'd pulled me into a fierce hug, Mom still trembling beside us. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him as if it would physically hurt me to let go.

Because it did hurt, but I'd found that pain was becoming a familiar sensation to me.

The reason for my leaving was known in our family. I'd given them the full story when I'd broken down in my parents house at three o'clock in the morning after it was finally all too much. My parents had held me as I cried, deep heart-wrenching sobs of all the things I'd bottled up then.

Mom had cried with me, her heart breaking the same way mine did as she knew she could do nothing but hold me as I let it all go. Aria had teared up beside us as Dad held us altogether, knowing I couldn't do it myself anymore.

There were too many and not enough feelings that night. It had started out as a numb ache before dissolving into a full-fledged agony that had me pounding on my parent's front door in the middle of the night.

Aria had been home then and came rushing over as soon as Dad made the call. There they listened to the story I gave them, from everything that had happened between New York and Maine. When it was all over I'd simply let myself succumb to the silence as I let the ache settle deep in my core.

London had numbed it, but a disease in the bones was a battle that was already won.

In my four years in England, Aria had visited me several times as her schedule allowed it and my parents twice. The last had been for New Years where I had proceeded to tour them around the shinings of London in the festive season. Their presence was enough to warm the chill in my core long enough to celebrate the holiday season.