On Sunday night Chris had gotten the news. His father had suffered a stroke upon arriving home from work and had been taken to the hospital. At three in the morning when he stumbled into the emergency room after catching a flight to Nevada, the blonde had stayed in the small bed with Todd for hours, drifting in and out of consciousness as his body wouldn’t allow him to stay awake any longer. For a while he’d been responsive, answering Chris in a groggy voice and squeezing his hand, but after a few hours something didn’t seem right. A brief nap had him waking up at seven in the morning and he knew that something was wrong. Todd had, had another stroke and this one was the one that had taken him out. When his father’s breathing had stopped and the sound of a flatlined heart monitor echoed through the room, Chris screamed for a nurse but his stepmother had already rushed out to get one. There was an attempt to resuscitate him, but it failed. After that everything was a blur. Chris kept looking in and expecting to see his chest rising and falling, but there was nothing but silence. No movement, nothing. He barely remembered the funeral that came on Tuesday afternoon, or the reading of the will Wednesday. The twenty thousand dollar check from his father’s estate and the jar of ashes that sat in the bottom of his suitcase seemed like a weight he couldn’t carry.
Now, though, after arriving back in New York, he couldn’t bring himself to go home yet. Chris had left the airport and was planning on going to work because he needed to get his mind off of things, but somewhere along the way he’d stopped and sat down on a bench. His face was puffy from crying for the last four days and he looked pretty disheveled, the only thing really in place was the golden cross necklace he was wearing that he’d been allowed to bring back with him. Reaching up to wipe at his face, the blonde sniffled softly and leaned forward, pressing his hands against his face and letting out a shaky sigh. “Fuck,” He said on a low exhale. “Fuck, I - I need a drink, honestly.”
a jog in the park is a necessity. it’s a daily routine felix does every morning without a lone strike to preserve healthiness & keep his entire being in shape ------ it’s sad to be aware some individuals just prefer that lousy comfort of being couped up in their room. he’s all dressed appropriately for the occasion. black tanktop to fit his torso as well as dark blue pants he borrowed from his gym. his feet have dragged him around for twenty five minutes but his sweat originated from the bright shining sun above. while he jogs around, he sees someone who seems to be close in tears & much to his dismay his interest unbearably peaked. ‘ so early in the morning? won’t be good for you, man. ’