Through the Screen

adrian sinks back into his pillows, leaning against the cushioned headboard of his bed helplessly, as he closed his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing so he doesn't end up crying. usually, when his parents fought, he wouldn't be that affected, because he knew they would work it out and they are rational adults who don't need their kid to barge in their argument and help them sort it out.

he would just sit silently in his room and listen to the songs that helped the argument to wash down his memory, or simply read a book that would keep him involved enough so he doesn't focus too much on what's happening outside the comfort of the four walls of his room.

today, the image of one of his fathers leaving the house with tears in his eyes and the other one locking himself in his room is burning sharp in his brain, the lack of response from abel when adrian asked him where he was going was white hot in his memory, and the way noah slammed his door and has been there since the past four hours is haunting him more than he thought he would.

relationships, and after years of not receiving presents on

trying to knit him a sweater, and the way his dad had burnt the roast chicken, causing their christmas dinner to be a large pepperoni pizza and very un-generic cheesecake for desert.

smiles, dimples and blue eyes full of glimmer. never ending laughter and playful nudges and talks about nothing in particular. messy hair, wrinkled clothing and cuddling up on a single couch to watch an overrated movie so they all could make jokes about it.

having two other people in the house to pamper him, to make jokes with him, to wake him up on alternative days was the best thing he could wish for. and