je suis seul

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je suis seul

Michael was laying in his bed once more, moaning on about the California weather. He looked at his French doors to the right, Luke made his way into every object into his room. Every memory was flowing through the faded-blue haired boy.

It was grey and raining, the clouds were dark and low. The waves were crashing into the shore side, creating sounds like one million bricks breaking.

He remembers when he laid in the sand, Luke under his arm. He remembers how annoyed he was, the sand was sticking to his clothes and in his hair, but he would look down at his blonde bombshell, smiling because Luke loved Michael and Michael loved Luke. The rain outside seemed to wash away every memory, falling into the water before Mike could catch them.

Luke sat in his mom's rental car, his family congratulating him on his diploma. He reached at the hat on his head, pulling it off and setting it on his lap. He thanked them quietly, closing his eyes.

He felt a migraine coming on, he's had them ever since Michael and Clémence said their last goodbye.

Luke and Calum were packing up boxes that night when the duo knocked on the door. The small blonde was crying, refusing to let go of Luke. Luke broke out in tears as Michael swore. He knew he shouldn't have come.

"Excited to move back home?" Ben asked his younger brother, resting a hand over his shoulder.

"I guess so," he answered, "nothing left for me here."

Heartbroken Michael cuddled closer into his blankets, the house was dead silent. Half of his room was in boxes, his mother already took off his childhood posters from the wall. A new full size bed took up half his room, the bed seemed so big without someone on the other side. It's like, after Luke came into his life, he forgot what it was like to be alone.

Michael closed his eyes, not able to bare the grey shadows of sun shining into his room.

Clémence and Ms. Clifford were out shopping for items to fill her new room. She was beyond excited to live in a real house. Mike doesn't think she realizes that they'll never see apartment 808 (or 810 across the hall) again.

He stared at the ceiling, it's hard to free his mind when there's a roof over it.

Luke felt his life slipping away as the May days went on. Day after day was spent packing boxes, sleeping, shipping boxes, sleeping, giving their key away, sleeping on a plane.

His mother called out a good morning, rubbing his shoulders lovingly as she placed breakfast on his plate, "only one month until we see those pretty blue eyes again."

"Don't get your hopes up."

She snorted, "baby, maybe you should get your hopes up."

"Don't call me baby."

Michael kissed Clémence on the cheek at the airport, Rose was standing next to the small girl, tapping her black flats impatiently on the floor. "Love you, Daddy."

"Love you, baby girl. I'll call you tonight, okay? And then August 2nd, I will be right here, waiting for you. I love you, I love you, I love you," he pressed kisses to her forehead and cheeks once more, causing the small child to giggle loudly.

She held her hands on his cheeks, "see you soon."

He didn't cry until he was in his father's pick up truck, his pale forehead rested on the steering wheel, Pretty Little Girl by Blink-182 playing at the lowest volume possible.

This was supposed to make his life easier, but he only feels more pain.

When he goes home, his mother coddles him like the screwed up teenager he once was. He sits at their dinner table (something he hasn't done in a decade), and listens to his mother go on about the neighbor and her messed up unemployed son. She quiets down when Michael points out he, too, is an unemployed f.uck up.

Luke is on their patio, laying in the Florida sun, Calum next to him, talking about all the new button downs he had to buy. "Why the fuck am I a mathematics teacher?"

"Because you're teaching a bunch of snotty eight year olds how to subtract."

"Since when did you hate kids so much?"

Mike gets a job at their local library. He puts books away, eats a peanut butter sandwich, and lets the teenage girls flirt with him.

They both find themselves crying at night. They're alive, but they're not living.



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