The night seems to go on forever. In either direction they look it hangs there, heavy and oppressive, over the streetlamps.
Remnants of the day stick to the back of their heels, dragging down the soles of their feet as they take the long way home.
Luke, his hands in his pockets, slouches as he walks. His legs are longer, so he moves slower.
Jonathan rubs the ear of his newly acquired teddy bear, too preoccupied with memorizing the feel of it to watch where his steps land.
The sidewalk turns on its side, crooked tiles half buried in the dirt and half raised to the heavens, roots from the tree beside it knocking it further off inch by inch, day by day.
Jonathan misses his step, and catches himself on Luke, as his sneaker slips on the stone, he grabs Luke’s shoulder to hold onto for support.
Luke stops and sticks his elbow out, leaving room for Jonathan to slip an arm in around his own.
His bones are heavy beneath his clothes, weary from the day and so ready for sleep. And the way home seems to grow longer in every step.
Jonathan leans on him, holding firmly to Luke’s arm, and talks softly of all the things they’ve done that day.