Colby was running. He was running at full speed down a street in his wedding suit, his new shiny shoes scuffing against the floor and becoming more and more ruined with every step. He was out of breath, his lungs screaming at him to stop and let them have some air, but he just kept running. It's funny what the right motivation can do to you. And colby had the perfect motivation. He had to get to Sam. He had to get back to Sam, hold him, kiss him, just be with him. After what felt like hours, Colby skidded to a halt outside Sams door. He took a minute to catch his breath before knocking on the door. He waited for the door to swing open, keeling forward and pressing his hands to his knees as he tried to slow his breathing down. He hasn't ran that fast in years, and he sure knew about it now. Colby inhaled deeply, standing up straight and knocking again. Maybe sam didn't hear? Maybe he's got headphones in, or he could be in the shower. He rang the doorbell, just to be sure. But, nothing. He knocked again, louder this time.
"Sam?" colby called out, but nothing but silence filled his ears. Great. The brunette sighed, stepping up to the small window Sam had by his front door and peering through. All the lights were out, and the television wasn't on either. Sam always had the television on; he said he used it to fill the silence, because Sam hated the silence. Colby knocked again, just to be sure, but as expected; there was no answer. Sam must have gone out. Great. Defeated, and still slightly out of breath, Colby turned around and trudged back down to the street.
Colby wondered where he'd live now. Because the house didn't belong to either Colby or Heather. It was their house. Filled with their things. And the brunette didn't know whether to try going back there, or to get a hotel for the night or something. In the end, he decided to risk it. Walking back into the house was strange, because it felt almost; normal. Heather was stretched out on the sofa watching tv, and she turned to smile at Colby when he walked in.
"Hey..." she smiled softly.
"Hi.." Colby sniffed.
"You okay?" She asked. Colby just shrugged, walking past his fianc- ex fiancé and into their room. He tugged of his suit, pealing the fabric of his body and tossing it to the side, before pulling on some joggers and a nice, baggy hoodie. Then, he scuttled back to the lounge, looking at the sofa hesitantly before gingerly sitting down next to Heather. No words were spoken, but the silence was comfortable. Colby tried to focus on the movie Heather was watching, but his mind was spinning.
"Hey..."
Colby jumped from the sudden voice, head snapping around to face Heather. The pink haired girl was looking at him with such soft eyes, it made colby want to curl up and cry.
"Did you speak to him?" She asked gently.
Colby shrunk further into the sofa.
"He.... wasn't home.." Colby whispered. Heathers gaze softened even more, before she shuffled a little closer to colby.
"Have you tried phoning him?" She suggested. Colby shook his head.
"Then try that," she smiled. Colby shrugged, looking around the house slowly, eyes glancing at all the photos hanging on the wall, the little ornaments they'd bought over the years. The brunette signed, before facing the pink haired girl.
"I want you to keep the house," he decided. Heathers eyes widened, and she went to speak, but Colby was faster.
"No! No you are and that's final. I can.. find somewhere else. You deserve a roof over your head.. I- I owe you that much."
Heather didn't say anything, just nodded her head slowly, before glancing at Colby.
"You don't... have to move out.." she spoke gently.
"I think it'll be better if I do..." colby sighed. Heather was silent again, but deep down, Colby knew that she was agreeing. They sat in silence for another hour, before Heather headed to bed. She took one last glance at her wedding dress that was hanging on the door handle of her wardrobe, before climbing into bed; alone. And Colby curled himself up on the sofa, alone; tears steaming down his face.
Colby tried ringing Sam the next morning. And there was no answer. He left a couple of messages, sent some texts. But there was no reply. The brunette spent the rest of the day ringing different numbers as he searched for a flat. Heather helped, and in the end she was the one that found one that was decent. Colby rang and talked to some man for a while about the little flat, and decided on a time he'd go and look round it. Heather offered to come with him; but Colby politely declined. He needed to do this by himself. After he'd sorted everything, he went for a quick shower; and when he got out, he was ecstatic to see a message from Sam.
"Please don't contact me."
And with that, Colby burst into tears.
The next few days were tough. Colby was looking round flats and packing his stuff into boxes, whilst dealing with the fact that Sam had him blocked on every single platform that Colby could possibly reach him on. He tried going round to Sams flat, and he knew the blonde was in this time; the lights were on and the television was flashing away. But nobody came to the door. Colby left defeated.
A couple weeks later saw colby unpacking his stuff and loading it into his new flat. Even once all his own belongings were sprawled around everywhere; the rooms still felt bare and lonely and cold. There was nothing homely about the small space, and Colby wanted nothing more than to sneak back to his old house and cuddle up on the nice warm sofa and watch a film with Heather. Or maybe... he wanted to be curled up on a sofa in a certain blondes flat, with said blonde pressed comfortably into his side. He wished.
The next night colby went out to the bar. He felt lonely at his flat, but he didn't want to keep bothering Heather. She needed time away from him, time to get over him. So, Colby was going to the bar, by himself. And he was going to get absolutely wasted. However, he aborted those plans as soon as he stepped foot into the building. Because, in the booth in the corner of the pub, were two men. One had ginger hair, the other blonde. And they were kissing. The ginger mans fingers were running though the blondes hair, playing with the strands, and it made colbys stomach turn. Because he knew exactly how it felt, how calm it used to make him; running his fingers through silky blonde locks. The brunettes stomach was flipping, his head was whirling. God, he was too late. Sam had moved on. And with that, he turned around and ran out that bar.
I'm sorry lmao
I'm also sorry for not updating for a while. I was on holiday with no wi-fi ✌️
Right, so Sam and Colby are authors now?!! I preordered their book at lightning speed lmao.
Hope everyone has a good day! I have my first day at collage (or high school if ur from the us) on Wednesday but I'm sure I'll be able to find the time to write! Love u <3
