Fractured
jared-kingston
Bo doesn’t like to think he scares easily, but the man in front of him is making him re-think that stance. Not because of the way he’s acting, or the splotches of makeup smeared across his face, but because of the look in his eyes as he stares blankly into the mirror in front of him, hands planted firmly on his thighs, fingers gripping so tightly the knuckles are turning white.
He doesn’t know if he should chance saying anything. He’s come to realize that Jared is about as mentally unstable as they come, though it isn’t his fault. It’s the only way he can manage to exist after the shit his parents put him through that he’s told Bo about. In all reality, Bo should just walk away - it would be the easiest thing for him to do - but he can’t. The pull in his heart when he sees Jared having an episode is enough to tell him that.
Part of him knows that the other man isn’t going to be able to live on the outside for much longer, at least not on his own, but he doesn’t want to think about it. He wants to hold on to that daydream that with enough of Bo’s love and patience, Jared is going to turn out all right.
“Jared,” Bo whispers, his fingers wrapping around the doorframe to Jared’s room. He doesn’t enter - doesn’t want to intrude on Jared’s space - but he wants to let the other man know he’s there.