There's a heaviness over my shoulders that wants to sink me to the deepest part of the earth. Not only does it haunt me from above, but wrecks me from the inside. Earlier, on the bench, Oscar pulled out a gun and shot at my chest, blowing my heart into a million pieces along with everything that filled my chest. Now, all I have is a nothingness that drains my energy to the point where I can fall to an eternal sleep no matter where I stand.
The feelings which were strangers to my tongue tormented me all day—especially when I would come across him in the hallways. It was too much for me to handle, so I dialed my mom and she quickly picked me up.
"What hurts?" she asks me as we drive home.
I want to hold a hand over my chest and tell her 'here, mom,' but I simply shake my head. "I'm just not having a good day," I say.
She's not convinced, giving me side glances the entire drive but not insisting on an answer.
"You don't want anything to eat?" she says as soon as we close our apartment door behind us. "Food might do you good."
I didn't want to worry her, so I reach for the center of the table and grab the granola bar Harvey left there this morning. With the bar in hand, I walk to my room and shut the door.
The quiet is comforting but hurting.
The quiet leaves room for my thoughts to roam freely, attacking my emotions constantly by replaying Oscar's hand letting me go. And with every replay, my chest aches more and more.
I don't know what to do.
I take a book out, but the words make no sense.
I open a draft of my stories on my computer, but my mind is deserted of ideas.
I turn on the TV, but the show doesn't grab my attention.
A feeling I'm too familiar with settles in. It starts with a tickling underneath the skin of my hands that travels up to my arms. Then, there is a lack of oxygen in my room that makes me take deep breaths. My heartbeat is continuous and quickly in my ears.
I lay in my bed with my eyes shut and tug my pillow close to my chest, trying to slow down my breathing. Although it helps a little, there is still a worry that it might come back.
There's a knocking on my door.
Harvey peeks in. His brown hair is wet, covered in sweat after soccer practice. "How are you feeling, Theo?"
I don't want him to hear my quivering voice, so I nod my head and hope that's enough for him.
"If you need anything just ask me or send me a text," he tells me. "I'll be in the living room with your mom."
I smile at him, or try to.
He closes the door and I hear his footsteps leaving.
All afternoon and night, I check my phone as soon as I receive a notification, hoping it's a text from Oscar—an apology of some sort. And the waiting for him keeps me up at night, even when my eyelids beg to give up.
He never reaches out to me.
Fully awake, I leave my bed to grab a pill from the kitchen that can send me to sleep. Just as I lightly walk up to the cabinets, my foot comes across the foot of a chair. The sound is barely there, but I remain still as if that will keep Harvey from waking up.
It's no use.
"Theo?"
I sigh, mad for waking him up. "Sorry. I'm just going to get something really quick."
I hear him adjust himself on the couch. "Can't sleep?"
I shake my head but recall that he can't see me. "Nope."
He turns on the flashlight on his phone and shines it at me. "Come here," he whispers. "Talking helps me sleep."
"You have school tomorrow," I remind him, not wanting to keep him up.
"And you don't?"
I do, but I don't feel like going knowing well that Oscar will be there first period.
"Just for a few minutes," he says, rubbing his eyes and yawning quietly.
I walk up to the living room and sit next to him now that he has changed from his sleeping position. As I sit and make myself comfortable, he throws the other side of his bedsheets at me to keep me warm.
"Keep in mind I might have morning breath," he says, scratching his arm.
I chuckle. "Toothpaste."
"Hmm?"
"Your mouth still smells like toothpaste, Harvey," I let him know. "You've only been asleep for an hour or two, I think."
"That's comforting to hear," he says. "So?"
I bring the covers up to my chest. "What?"
"What's going through your mind?" he asks, keeping his legs firmly down as I cross them underneath me. "Something is keeping you up."
I consider not telling him what went down today, but the night is long, and talking might do me good. There's no denying that.
"I think Oscar and I broke up," I finally admit it out loud. Reality sinks in with those words, but I manage to keep myself together. "Even though we never truly asked each other out, but it always felt like a close relationship we had."
Harvey remains quiet for a few seconds. "I'm sorry about that."
"It's fine," I lie. "Heartbreak is not a feeling I could've avoided all my life."
"First heartbreaks hurt the most," Harvey tells me. "You don't have to act strong, Theo. I know you're hurting."
I take a deep breath as my eyes begin to tear up. His words bring my sadness to the surface. "I— I think I am, Harvey," I admit to him, staring at my lap. "And I don't know how to make it stop."
I watch a teardrop land on my sweatpant, the material soaking it in to leave behind a dark spot.
"Instead of trying to make it stop, let it out of you," he says, scooting close to me. "Theo, whatever hurtful emotion you're feeling has to come out. Let it drain out of you."
I can't hold them back anymore, letting the tears escape my eyes and coat my cheeks.
"Always keep in mind that pain is temporary." And he's right. I just wish I had a time machine that can send me to a future where these feelings are long gone.
I wipe my nose with my sleeve but don't bother with my eyes since the tears keep coming.
"Come here." Harvey spreads his arms open, leaving his bare chest to view.
I don't mind it, though, collapsing into his body and letting his arms embrace me. And there's a consolation that his body gives me, making me unafraid to show my weakest self. With his warm skin enveloping me, I find my breathing slowing down and the tears coming to a stop. Nonetheless, the emotions I want to be rid of are still there, but they are tamed because of him.
"I'm getting you covered in tears," I tell him.
He chuckles, caressing my hair as he lays his chin over my head. "It's fine, Theo."
I close my eyes, and for a slight second, I almost drift to sleep over his body. Truth be told, his muscles are great cushions to lay on.
"You can sleep here if that makes you feel any better," he offers as I leave his arms.
"I don't think my mother would be pleased with that," I say, standing up from the comfortable couch. Before I walk to my room, I look at Harvey. "Thank you."
"Goodnight, Theo," he says, smiling.
"Goodnight, Harvey."
________
A\N: Please like and leave a comment! Also, #TeamOscar or #TeamHarvey.
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