Through the Screen

chapter 107

abel keeps his eyes fixed absentmindedly on the two wrapped presents still under the tree, their

presence long forgotten and he can feel the weight in the atmosphere decrease from when it had built

up excessively while they were exchanging presents. dinner came and went by, lots of chatter, lots of

laughter, lots of meaningless banter that didn't include him, but he wasn't complaining. he didn't want to

be included.

right now he sat silently, shifting into a more comfortable position so that the slight welters in his back

from his unnecessarily hot shower aren't bothered. his eyes move from the tree towards the television

screen, trying to figure out how much of the movie he has missed but as much as he tries to, he can't,

so he lets his eyes wander around the room instead, watching as the light hits all the sharp points of

adrian's face as he intently watches the screen, his body pressed to the side of his grandmother's as

she smoothes his hair over his forehead.

he smiles half heartedly at the pair, pulling the blanket tighter around himself and slumping further into

the couch, attempting to stretch his legs without touching noah who is sitting next to him. he glances

towards him, not enough to catch a glimpse of his face but enough to see his posture, the way his legs

are stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle, the way his long fingers are wrapped loosely

around a cup of coffee, the way his torso is leaned back against the couch, his chest rising and falling

in a delicate pattern—abel looks away.

the storm inside is calmer now, just a gentle wave of emotions, a soft pinch of heartbreak, a slight burn

of distance. his eyelids feel lighter, his breathing easier, his thoughts quieter. he isn't sure why he feels

this way, his body flushed with placidity, a certain warmth at the base of his chest, the way his hearing

is muffled and his vision is blurred slightly around the edges—he feels like he's under water.

not drowning, just floating, deep under where he can't reach himself, can't reach the heartbreak that

awaits on the surface. his head is dizzy and his lungs are filling with water, burning slightly but the

feeling is better than when he is gasping for air. his eyes are open, wide open and watching the water

around him, watching as it swivels back and forth, as it glides over his skin and envelops his entire

body in the cool liquid. it doesn't look as peaceful as it feels. he can see the tinge of yellow around the

otherwise clear liquid, unspoken words and serrated shards of his own broken heart waiting to pierce

into his skin as soon as he attempts to get out of it. it's all laid out in front of him, in big bold letters, a

neon flashing sign telling him that things are too far gone to be fixed.

he can feel himself leaving the state of denial, where he thought that the love he and noah hold for

each other was powerful enough, was potent enough to lift any pall of despair that settled upon them.

their love wasn't strong, he had now realised. it was meek and it cowered and withered and faded

alongside each mistake and argument and hurdle and heartbreak. it was hollow and weak and void and

they needed time, lots and lots and lots of time to refill the holes in their chests, to put their scattered

thoughts back into their shelves, to contemplate and analyse and breathe.

winning this battle of betrayal would be pyrrhic—it will be won at too great of a cost to benefit either of

them.

he needs to leave, he needs to chain his emotions into place and talk to noah and tell him that he's

okay with what noah proposed the other night, that he's okay with giving noah the much needed break.

his shattered heart will not be able to withstand the pain, the permanent lump in his throat will grow in

size and his stomach will twist and turn and make him want to throw up—but he needs to do this for

himself and for noah. he needs to give time to their relationship, he needs to let it sit still for a while and

he needs to let the miscommunication and aggravation die. he needs to let noah grow and grow up This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

himself and he needs the distance to enrich their relationship.

he needs to let go of this.

his eyes leave the spot of carpet they had been staring at and wander over to noah instead, watching

as noah takes a sip of his coffee and settles the mug back into his lap, adjusting his glasses on his

nose after the action. for the first time in thirty eight hours abel looks at his face, the way noah's high

cheekbones fade into the gentle curve of his jaw, the way his lips are tinted a pale pink, the way

freckles dot up the side of his neck. somehow his blurred vision allows him to ignore the heaviness of

noah's eyelids, the soft flesh of noah's lips that has been ruined with teeth marks, the way his hands

are slightly shaking.

"i need to talk to you," abel blurts all of a sudden, his voice unintentionally loud.

noah looks at him, and so do adrian and katherine, trying to assess the volume in his voice but then

katherine tugs at adrian's arm and forces him to look at the screen again, trying to give some privacy to

the couple who really could use some talking.

"not right now abel," noah mumbles, slightly embarrassed. he doesn't want them to fight or yell or cry in

front of his mother, they've done that enough already.

"yes right now, it's not like nobody here knows what's going on we haven't even wished each other a

merry fucking christmas," it has taken everything, every single fibre of his being to gather enough

courage to accept his mistake and to decide to give noah and their relationship some time. it has taken

him all his heart and mind and soul to get out of the stage of denial and if he waits any longer he knows

he will get sucked back into the toxicity.

"abel," noah warns, his cheeks flush a deeper pink out of the embarrassment. does abel have no sense

of place and time whatsoever?

"it's okay noah, go and talk to him, you guys need it," katherine assures him, giving him a soft smile

and wrapping her fingers tighter around adrian's arm to comfort the young child.

"alright," noah gives in, avoiding eye contact with abel as he runs his fingers through his hair

frustratedly. "we'll be back in a while," he tells his mother and his son, and they both nod wordlessly. he

doesn't look behind himself to see if abel is following or not, he is too busy preparing himself for

another round of heartbreak that is bound to come.