Oct 21, 2014
❝ do you want some hot chocolate? ❞ ( he has a problem. )
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❝ do you want some hot chocolate? ❞ ( he has a problem. )
everything hurt. it wasn't the same pain as usual, today, though. it was more intense this time. it was in more places, too. of course, carter was sure that this was a side effect of all the things his father had done to him when he was younger. everything seemed to be a side effect of that. these aches on pains didn't go away during the day, though. they only intensified throughout the day.
“i—i think somethings wrong.”
he's unsure if the other is asleep. he just knows that they've been cuddling for so long that the steady sound of her breathing has grown comforting for him. carefully, he moves forwards to whisper in her ear.
‘you are a superhero.’
the silence is killing him. it's that same silence that motivates carter to do something he'd never do. he doesn't know what's driving him as he moves from his lying position to his hands and knees. he wants to touch the other. he wants to get a reaction, he wants contact.
the biggest problem with this is that he can't see. so he inches forward and now he's reaching. he'll reach and wave his arm around before moving forward a few more inches and repeating the same action. finally, his hand hits the other's shoulder and he uses that contact to guide himself into the other's lap.
once he's seated comfortably in the other's lap, he sits still as memories pass through his mind. his fingers twitch and eventually he rests his head against their shoulder, sighing.
the room was empty so he took the opportunity to scurry over to the window and pile things up so he could stare out it. the sun was just starting to rise and he stared in awe as the world came to life. he was almost too entranced to notice the knob on the door wiggling. quickly, carter scurried back to his seat and sat up straight.
❝ i wasn't trying to leave, i swear. ❞
it was the first time in weeks that he had managed to successfully make hot chocolate without burning himself. being blind was hard and he often regretted doing what he did to his eyes. if he new it wouldn't have worked, he never would have tried it. he cautiously makes his way into the living room and holds out a mug to the male that's sitting on his couch.
“now, what's wrong?”
grayedclouds:
❛ she died. ❜
❛ who? ❜