Through the Screen

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 had now realised. it was meek and it cowered and withered and faded

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

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

needs to let go

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

blurts all

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