❝ Please let me do this, ❞ Keith mumbled as he let himself lean against the shoulder of a guy he was more than a little familiar with. It was really unlike him considering how much he shrinked away at physical contact normally. As he let himself settle against Connor’s shoulder, the redhead continued to plead, ❝ I know you probably still don’t like me but I just need to talk. ❞ Besides, it seemed like Connor would be the only one who’d actually kind of get these sorts of feelings he was going to talk about.
❝ I… really hate everything. I hate how I’m so frustrated at everyone doing better than me all the time. I hate how I’ve been… so envious of my sister being so loved and cared for—even Reanne. ❞ His voice was crumbling, weakening as a very clear shaky quality revealed his vulnerability. ❝ They somehow… get people to like them, and I’m just… ❞
Ah, he could feel the urge to cry. His throat felt like it was on fire right now. No, he couldn’t be so pathetic and cry over something like this. Nope, not in front of someone who likely still hated him.
Connor had been sitting on a bench outside a nearby convenience store. He hadn’t quite brought himself to trek all the way home, but had pulled himself from the depths of his depression to go get something premade for dinner. He heard Keith’s voice before even seeing him, or rather feeling his head rest on Connor’s shoulder. He didn’t move or bother to talk, waiting to see what Keith needed to talk about. He doubts that it is directly related to him, but as someone that could appreciate someone to talk to here and there; he might as well be there for the other.
Connor looked down at his premade dinner while Keith started talking, surprised by how similar the two felt. It was almost like Keith was reading his mind and taking the thoughts that he had on a daily basis and putting them into words. Maybe they were more similar than he thought. He cleared his throat, “And talking about it is almost impossible.” Connor added on, letting Keith know that he was in the darkness with him, “Because even when someone does bother hearing you out often they think it’s all in your head or tell you it’s not as bad as you think.”
He pulled a water out of his bag, having gotten a few of them to put in his fridge in an attempt to take care of himself. “Here, drink. When was the last time you ate?” He asked the other, keeping his voice low. He’d take Keith back into the convenience store to find something to eat if the other hadn’t recently done so, debating on offering to walk him back home or asking if he needed to stay over to get out of his own depression space. Connor tried to think of how messy his apartment was. Honestly, for his state of mind he didn’t think it was horrible.
"I'm going to head home soon, Keith, and I know how hard this invitation is going to be to accept, but I think you should come with me." He didn't look at the other, not wanting to put the extra pressure on him, "Either that, or we can sit out here talking all night and it's getting a little chilly out."