flowers in your hair

Commiseration

Commiseration / Com•mis•er•a•tion
sympathy and sorrow for the misfortunes of others; compassion.

January 21st // England - 11:42pm

The words rang through Clay's mind like a telephone in a abandoned house; Sharpening, haunting, and sending shivers throughout his body. He replayed the horror and pain in George's voice when the desperation left his lips.

Something didn't sit right with him at all as he sat on his bed. He tried to stay as quiet as possible; hopeful he would hear George's screaming sobs soften. The fact that he did what he was told and left made him feel helpless. He felt like a horrible person for leaving his best friend all alone in a time where he was vulnerable and pained.

Clay sat up from the bed and walked to the door. When he reached for the doorknob, he hesitated. Every possible sentence he could say to his crying love flew through his mind until he finally gave up. He took a deep breath and walked through the door, blinded and unknowing of what was about to happen.

He made his way down the hall, still hearing the muffled audible noises coming from the boy who was cradled in the corner. As he approached the boy, he could hear tiny whispers coming from his mouth which was buried into his hoodie. George had not realized Clay entered the room until he was standing only a few feet ahead of him.

Clay's sincere filled eyes were soon to be met with the glassy, regretful ones that belonged to a boy he thought he knew. They held their gaze for a few seconds before George slowly looked towards the ground. He took a few deep breaths before letting out a few raspy words.

"I thought I told you to get out."

"George, I-"

"I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT CLAY!"

"No. No, George. I am not leaving. I don't know what you're so pissed off about but I am not going to leave you alone. We are best friends, and best friends don't leave the other to drown in puddles of tears. You don't have to tell me what's wrong, just please let me be here. I want to be here for you. I need to be here, or I would never be able to forgive myself."

Clay was squatting down in front of George now. George slowly lifted his head after a few minutes noticing that Clay's eyes only had pure intentions. He couldn't let Clay know what was really happening- who he really was.

"Why do you care so much, Clay? You are just trying to make it about you."

Clay reached a hand out and rested it on George's arms which were wrapped around his knees. His cheeks were dry, and all his eyes seemed to be filled with was numbness.

"I am not trying to. I just- I can't leave you. You're my best friend, and I love you."

"You- You what?"

"I love you, George."

Clay stayed still, quietly wishing George saw the words and interpreted them as words of friendship. It wasn't the time to say the real ones.

He stared into George's eyes, slowly watching the emptiness close and the tears fill the gap. George slowly fell into Clay's direction and Clay was there to catch him with open arms. The warm embrace quickly eased George's pain. The relief he felt only caused him to cry more and more. Clay sat there for ten minutes just holding him and quietly shushing him until his breathing slowed. When George finally pulled away, they both missed the comfort and warmth of the other. They both gazed at the other in shock of how much they suddenly needed the other. It were as if the other were their lifeline.

"I am going to get you a glass of water, you can go ahead and take your bed. I'll take the couch tonight."

"Thank you."

George silently made his way to his room, and Clay stood in the kitchen pouring a glass for his other half. His head filled with thoughts and he was content with how he helped his friend instead of leaving him alone in the storm. He heard a tiny knock on the wall beside him and once again met the eyes of his friend.

"Clay- thank you again, truly. You've done more than enough and I don't know how to thank you. The nightmare I had- it just felt so real and I-" He took a breath and stayed silent for a moment more. "Could you stay with me tonight? I don't think I can fall asleep without yo- someone there to keep me safe."

"Of course, George. Anytime, always."

Clay headed to the bedroom with George, and sat the cold glass on George's bedside table. He let his friend lay down before grabbing the bed sheets and draping them over his body. He made his way over to his own side, and slowly sank into the bed. He covered himself with the sheets, and locked his eyes on the cracks in the ceiling. After a few moments, he felt the warmth return to his side. George.

He looked over to see George's arms wrapped around his waist. He adjusted and put his arm around the calm creature he had missed. Their souls lay there finally in peace. Finally in comfort. Finally safe.

Total Word Count: 901