the thing i'd never said | boreo oneshots

my fingers through his hair

A howl of pain, ripping off the sheets. I started up just as quickly as he did.

Theo coughed, choked, sat up on the other side and cried. I got up as quickly as possible, touching his back slowly, hoping to not startle him. He let out a final sob before falling back into my arms, his face was soaked in tears and his nose had snot coming out like a waterfall.

"It should've been me," he croaked, turning around and hugging my torso, it was so dark in the room I could hardly make out his face.

"No, no. . . it's okay. . . it's not your fault," I whispered, running my fingers through his hair—greasy and damp. My eyes were heavy, I'd slept so soundly—could I've not wakened up? Left him alone?

"It is my fault. I miss her I—" he sobbed.

My heart felt stabbed, a wave of sadness came over me, and I started to cry too. I wiped away a tear, wishing he wouldn't notice. "Don't say that, just deep breaths. Shh. . ." I laid back down on the mattress, his arms wrapped around me and his head on my chest. I reached for the MP3 player, somewhere on the bed. I felt the earbuds and tugged on them to bring to me and Theo.

I scrolled through his selection—Thelonious Monk, The Beatles. I knew that his mother loved these. I eventually picked "Pale Blue Eyes" by The Velvet Underground, put one earbud in my ear and the other in Theo's. He was still crying, but not as bad as before.

"Shh, it's okay. . . ya zdes, vso budet khorosho, dover'sya mne."