~~~

     The wooden floorboards creaked below Violet's feet as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She moved the phone up to her ear, biting her lip anxiously.

"George?" Clay's broken voice crackled through the speakers, the volume barely above a whisper. "I didn't think you'd answer me-"

"He didn't," She cleared her throat, interrupting him. "It's Violet."

Clay inhaled sharply through his nose in surprise. "Oh," He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Is he okay?"

Fierce anger ignited in her chest, heat creeping into her voice. "Excuse me?'" She sputtered. "No, he's not okay. What the hell did you do to him?"

"I'm such an idiot," He muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly. "I didn't mean it."

"Yeah you are an idiot. What did you say?"

"I didn't mean it," Clay echoed. His voice was small as if he was trying to reassure himself with the words. "I didn't mean to hurt him."

"Tell me what you said or I'm hanging up and deleting your number off his phone." Violet said firmly. Her fists were clenched tightly around the device, knuckles turning white.

"Wait, don't!" He pleaded desperately. "I... I said I wished that I hadn't taken his suitcase by mistake." His words were uneven, heavy with shame and regret.

"What?" She shouted into the device. "Oh my God, you really are stupid! What is wrong with you?"

Clay was didn't respond. He was quiet, save for the sound of his ragged breaths and incoherent mumbling.

Violet shook her head coldly. "You clearly have no idea how much he cares about you. I know he told you about his father. You know what he went through and you're still treating him like this?" She spat the words out harshly, her tone full of disbelief and rage.

"I know, I messed up so badly. I'm so sorry-"

"You can't just apologize and expect the problem to disappear. Besides I'm not even the one you should be saying sorry to." Violet's lips were pursed tightly. "You're breaking him, Clay, and you're leaving me to pick up the pieces. There's only so many times you can glue them back together again before it becomes impossible to fix."

"I know. Please, I need to talk to him," Clay begged, his words blending together in his haste to get them out. "I need to explain everything. He needs to know that I didn't mean it."

"No, Clay." She refused. "You don't know what he needs. George always gets attached to the people he opens up to. He trusted you enough to let you in and you're walking all over him." Violet was fuming, her tone an unforgiving mix of fire and ice. "The last thing he needs is another person to manipulate him, he's been through enough already."

     Guilt burned Clay's stomach as he tried to process her words. He flinched, remembering how violently George had shook when he tried to speak about his father. Faded scars still marked his body, a cruel reminder of his past. Painful regret cycled through Clay, consuming his every thought.

     "I messed up. George means everything to me, I need to talk to him," His words were still rushed, almost indecipherable because of his panicked state. "Please, I can't lose him."

     "You don't deserve him!" Violet screamed into the receiver. Furious, jumbled thoughts raced through her mind. "George can't heal while you're playing with his emotions. He already has PTSD, you're just making everything harder for him!"

     "What?" Clay gasped, his body going rigid with shock. Another looming wave of regret crashed over him. He felt as if he was drowning, unable to get enough air into his lungs. "I- I didn't know! Oh my God, I swear I didn't know!"

     Violet clamped a hand over her mouth. "I wasn't supposed to say that..." She paused, the anger surging in her gut again. "Just stop! You're making everything worse." She moved to hang up the phone, stopping abruptly when she saw a sleepy-looking George shuffle into the living room.

     "What's going on?" He slurred. "I heard shouting." His unfocused eyes flitted across the room before landing on the device clutched in Violet's hand. "Is that my phone?"

     She tried to hide it behind her back but it was already too late. "Nothing's happening, George." She lied. "Go back to sleep."

     His shoulders slumped, eyes unfocusing again. "It's Clay, isn't it?" George's face was unreadable but his voice was thick with emotion.

     Violet nodded hesitantly, wishing she hadn't answered the call. With a heavy sigh, he held his hand out to take the phone from her.

     "Are you sure?" She took a step away from him. "You don't need to talk to him."

     "Just give me my phone." George sounded vacant, a frown etched onto his face. He held his phone up to his ear after she gave it to him, the frown deepening. "What do you want, Clay?"

     "George?" He whispered, voice breaking again. "I'm so sorry."

     George forced his eyes closed, feeling tears start to well up at hearing Clay speak. His cruel words were still playing in his mind like a broken record. "What do you want?" He tried to sound angry but his voice was small and shaky.

     "I'm sorry," Clay said again. "I didn't mean what I said, George. Meeting you was one of the best things to ever happen to me."

      Surprise bloomed in George's chest faintly at his apology but it disappeared quickly, like a candle flame that had been snuffed out. "Then why did you say it?"

     His eyes were still squeezed shut tightly. Clay went quiet again, his silence sending George into an outrage. "Why won't you say anything? Just answer the stupid question!"

     "I don't know." He breathed, voice almost inaudible. "George I- I didn't know what to do. I feel like I can't breathe."

      George waited for him to elaborate but he didn't. "What do you mean?"

      "I didn't know how hard this would be. I knew I would miss you but I didn't realize it would hurt this bad," Clay felt like there was a vise around his heart, squeezing it painfully. "I miss you so much George, I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

      "I don't know- I can't..." George wanted to understand what he meant but he couldn't. "What are you trying to say?"

      Clay was unsure of how to formulate the thoughts spinning through his head. "I'm so afraid of losing you." He said honestly. "I'm such an idiot. I don't know how to handle relationships, it's all too much. I can't do anything without thinking of you and it hurts."

     "Is that what this is?" George questioned. "A relationship? I don't even know what we are anymore, Clay. I'm so confused."

      "I don't know. When I left part of me expected you to disappear. I was too scared to ask you to stay, I didn't know whether or not you actually cared."

      "Of course I care!" George sounded hurt, each word increasing in volume until he was almost yelling. "I told you that I did at the airport, why would I just disappear?"

     "I don't know," He repeated, his voice sinking even lower. "I thought you were just saying that because I told you I loved you."

     "I wasn't ready to say it back yet," George defended himself. "But that doesn't mean that I don't care about you, Clay."

     "I know, I know. I'm so stupid."

     "Yeah, you are. You're an idiot but I still care about you."

     Clay felt himself smile slightly for the first time the entire day but it was quickly replaced with a frown. "I really am sorry." He took a shuddering breath and nervously ran a hand through his hair. "I love you, George."

      Again, George felt like the floor had given out beneath him. "I can't say it, I'm sorry." He shifted around on the couch uncomfortably. The words were like a hurricane tearing through his heart. George hated how Clay's voice still made his stomach tingle after everything. He wanted to forget the past day but no matter how hard as he tried, it still lingered in the back of his mind.

     "Don't apologize, I just want you to know how much you really mean to me. What I said before wasn't true, I am so glad we met." He said earnestly. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

      "I think I just need time to process everything," George was overwhelmed and he could feel his breathing start to speed up. "Neither of us really knew what we were getting in to with this. I really care about you but I'm still upset." He trailed off sadly. "Clay, I think we should just be friends. For now, at least."

     He could practically hear his heart shattering. "Okay," His voice was gravelly. Clay's chest felt like a deflated balloon. "I understand. Do you think you'll ever be able to forgive me?"

     "I want to," George said softly. "I hope so." He heard Clay sniffle and felt a stab of guilt. "I'm sorry."

     He tried to laugh but it sounded more like a choked sob. "Don't be sorry, I understand. I'll
wait for you, George. Even if I have to wait forever."

     "Goodbye, Clay." It seemed like everything was moving in slow motion as he went to hang up the phone. He felt as if jagged shards of ice were stabbing into him mercilessly, leaving him cold, broken, and confused.

     He collapsed back onto the couch expecting tears to come but they didn't. George felt too empty to cry. His body ached. It took all his remaining energy to keep forcing air into his lungs.

     Violet cleared her throat from behind him. "Are you gonna be okay?"

     George jumped slightly, having forgotten that she was still there. He sunk lower into the couch cushions wishing they would swallow him whole. "I don't know anymore."

     She sighed and went to sit next to him. "I'm proud of you, George. You did good."

     All he could do was hum in response, his eyes slipping closed. Her words triggered another ripple of sadness from deep in his gut.

     "You should come in to work with me tomorrow afternoon. That way you don't have to be alone here." Violet felt guilty but there was nothing she could do to help.

      He hummed again. "Okay."

      "Goodnight, George." She stood up and covered him with a blanket, knowing he was too tired to make it back to his room. "I'll see you tomorrow."

~~~

     George stared at his reflection in the mirror, irritation evident on his face. His hair was a mess, his eyes red and bloodshot. Dark purple shadows hovered underneath. He rubbed at them as if he could wipe them away with his finger. With one last glance, he ran a hand through his hair to flatten it and left the bathroom.

     The rest of his flat felt oddly empty. Violet had gone home after he'd fallen asleep so now he was all alone. He checked his phone, seeing a text from her saying she was almost at his flat and sighed. George wasn't sure if he was ready to go out in public again. It was already difficult for him to breath, let alone walk around and interact with others.

     His steps were heavy as he made his way out of his apartment and into the deserted hallway. The conversation between him and Clay was still echoing in his head while he walked.

     Once he was outside he glared up at the sun. Its rays were too bright, almost like it was mocking him. He leaned against the hot wall of the flat building and waited for Violet.

     He looked around idly before his gaze landed on a young looking couple, walking hand-in-hand down the street. They were smiling at each each other, their faces conveying the happiness George could only dream of having again. He eyed them longingly, his thoughts drifting away.

     "George?" His head turned at the sudden voice. Violet was beside him dressed in her work clothes, eyes tinged with concern. "Are you ready to go?"

     "Yeah," He blinked and shook his head to clear it before pushing himself off the wall. "Let's go."

     As usual The Beanhouse was almost empty, the few patrons spread evenly across the room. George slid into his usual booth, his heart clenching as he remembered the last time he'd been here. His hand moved to touch his cheek absently as he thought of the gentle way Clay had cupped his face. He groaned, burying his head in his hands. George didn't want to think about him anymore.

     But he had no control over his head. Painful memories nagged at him, demanding to be relived. He wished he could shut off his brain temporarily. Thinking only ever made him tired.

     His head shot up as the bells above the door jangled. George gaped at the familiar figure walking inside.

     Layla weaved between the tables filling the room before stopping in front of the counter to order. George angled his body away trying to obscure his face. Now it really felt as if the universe was mocking him, constantly giving him harsh reminders of what he'd lost.

     She walked over to the table next to his, a smile breaking out on her face as she made eye contact with him. "George!" She beamed. Her grin was brighter than the wedding ring glinting on her finger. "How are you doing?"

     He tried to smile at her but every time he looked at her face all he could see was a picture of Clay in his mind. "I'm okay, how are you?"

     Layla shot him a dubious look before sliding into the opposite side of the booth. "You sure? You look exhausted?"

     "I guess I didn't sleep very well last night," George traced the splintered wood on the windowpane. "But I'm fine."

     "No you aren't," She rested her chin in her hands and rolled her eyes. "What'd my brother do this time?"

      She'd meant the words as a joke but they felt like a stab in the gut to George. He opened his mouth but quickly shut it again, his brows furrowing. His hand froze where it was on the windowpane and he refused to meet her eyes.

     A frown tugged at Layla's lips. "Wait, did he actually do something?" She looked worried, the smile she'd been wearing before now nowhere to be found. "George?"

     He risked a glance up at her but immediately averted his eyes, her concern too much for him to bare. "It's fine." George tried to change the subject but his voice cracked, the weak wall of defenses he'd started to build back up beginning to crumble.

     "What happened?"

     Those two words were all it took for the walls to come crashing down. The tears he'd managed to hold in last night returned, his bottom lip quivering.

     "Oh my God, what did he do?" Layla stared at George in horror as he cried silently, hiding his face in his hands.

     "He kissed me." George blurted. He internally scolded himself but it was too late. The words all poured out of his mouth in a rush. Before he knew what he was doing, he was explaining the entire situation to her.

     As he spoke, Layla's expression shifted from shocked to confused before disappointment settled on her face. "Oh, Clay." She muttered under her breath, shaking her head slightly. "I'm sorry George, that's terrible."

    "I don't know what to do now," He sighed. "I just want to call him but I can't. It hurts so much." His tears had subsided but his eyes were still watery.

     "Clay's never been good at dealing with relationships. He can't... I don't know, he just can't deal with feeling vulnerable." She took a sip of her coffee dejectedly. "This is what he does whenever he gets overwhelmed."

      "What do you mean?"

     "He lashes out at the people he cares about the most." Layla explained. "Trust me, I know how much it sucks. It's not the first time he's done something like this."

     "Really?" George was surprised. But uncertainty still clung to the back of his mind. "I still don't understand. Everything was fine and then suddenly it wasn't anymore."

     "I know, George. It's so confusing." Layla leaned back against the booth, thinking. "He pretty much refuses to talk about anything relationship related after his last girlfriend. Clay never actually told me what happened but ever since then, whenever people get too close to him he always tries to push them away."

     George thought back to the day Clay had come out to him and how defensive he'd been. "Yeah. I guess he does."

     "I'm not trying to make excuses for him, what he said was awful. But if I had to guess, I'd say he was acting out of self defense and trying to spare himself pain." Layla looked at George kindly. "I know I'm a bit biased, but Clay really is a good guy. I think he just freaked out and made a mistake."

     It was like a small weight had been lifted off his shoulders after hearing her words. George felt the slightest bit better but the temporary relief soon melted back into sadness. His head was full of conflicting thoughts and feelings.

     Part of him wanted to call Clay now and tell him how he felt but a much bigger part was still hurt and not ready to talk to him yet. "I miss him so much." George mumbled. "I didn't even think it was possible to feel like this."

     "He misses you too." She chuckled sadly. "You know, Clay literally never stopped talking about you while he was here. If he wasn't actually with you then he was almost always talking about you."

     A warm feeling coursed through George's veins. "Really?" He hadn't realized how much he missed it until he remembered how nice it felt.

     "Yes." She said with an eye roll . "He was, like, obsessive. He didn't ever tell me how he felt about you but it was so obvious." Layla laughed again. "I think you're the only one who didn't see it."

     The giggles forced their way out of George's mouth. It felt good to laugh again, even just for a moment.

     Layla took another drink of her coffee, grinning at George from behind the mug. "I'm sorry that my brother is such an idiot sometimes. I promise he means well."

     All too quickly the dark cloud settled over George again, the warm feeling in his bloodstream turning into sludge. "We agreed to just be friends for now." He turned to face she window and watched the people walking by outside. George tried to picture what Clay was doing right now and how he felt.

     "That's probably for the best," Layla nodded. "But I do hope you'll consider giving him another chance someday."

      "I hope so too." He looked back at her. "Long distance just seems so awful, I don't know how people can do it."

     "Hey, I did it!" She pointed out. "I'll admit, a lot of it sucked. The pain of missing them never really goes away until you're able to see them again. I remember, I used to always feel like I was suffocating whenever Matt and I had to wait months in between seeing each other."

     A faraway look grew in her eyes as she spoke but she shrugged it away. "Things get better though, look at him and I now." She smiled again and held out the hand with her wedding ring on it. "Whatever happens between you two, you'll get through it."

     "Thank you, Layla. I really hope you're right."

     She glared at him jokingly. "I'm always right."

     George smiled, suddenly feeling a wave of déjà vu roll over him. He glanced over at Violet who was perched behind the counter carefully organizing the mugs. She looked up instantly as if she could feel his eyes and waved to him, smiling.

     He turned back to Layla. "There's someone I want you to meet. You remind me a lot of her."

     She looked at him quizzically before eyeing the few occupied tables. "Who?"

     "Follow me," He stood and walked over to where Violet was. "Layla, this is Violet. I think you two would be good friends."

     Violet set the mug she was holding down and smiled at Layla. "You look familiar, have I seen you before?"

     "Maybe, I've been here a couple of times."

      George zoned out as they talked, thoughts drifting back to when he first met Clay. He chuckled, recalling how Clay had hid behind a wall and tried to scare him.

     Both Layla and Violet turned to face him. "What?" They said in unison, which only made George laugh more.

     "Nothing, nothing. I think I'm gonna go back to my flat and take a nap, I'm tired."

     "Yeah, you look tired." They both said together again. This time they turned to look at each other, eyes glinting as they faced George again.

      He looked back and forth between them quickly, landing on the mischievous smiles on both of their faces. "I'm starting to think maybe I shouldn't have introduced you two."

     Violet snorted. "Whatever. Go home and go to sleep, George."

     "Okay, relax, I'm going!" He waved goodbye sending her and Layla one last smile before exiting the café. George looked back over his shoulder and saw both of their heads tilted back in laughter and felt himself smiling. Maybe things really will get better.

For now, George couldn't help but feel lonely. People swarmed the streets all heading to different destinations. He imagined where they could be going, whether it was simply to the store or home to their families.

     The quiet of his empty flat bothered him and made him wish he wasn't alone even more than he already did. Somehow the air felt colder when he was by himself.

     George eyed the strip of photos lying on his desk he'd found in the hoodie pocket. He picked it up, gently brushing his thumb along Clay's smiling face. God, I miss him so much.

     Outside, the sun was just beginning to set. The blue hue from the day slowly melted into oranges and pinks as it began to dip below the buildings. George looked out his window watching the sun disappear until the only light was from stars and street lamps.

     A peaceful smile spread across his features. George always used to associate Clay with the sun but now he reminded him of the stars instead. Still out there, but just out of reach and only sometimes visible.

     Pain rocketed through him at the thought. He wished for the millionth time that Clay was here beside him and able to wrap him in a hug again. But just like the stars, he was too far away. George wanted to call him just to hear his voice but he knew he shouldn't.

      He stood suddenly, walking over to his closet and digging through piles of clutter until he found his sketchbook. A fine layer of dust was starting collect on the cover. It had been over a week since he'd touched it. George brushed it off and opened it to one of the most recent pages.

       It was the drawing of Clay sitting in the paddle boat on the canal. He smiled sadly at it, running his fingers along the smooth paper before closing it and placing the sketchbook on his desk. Though the memory was happy, it hurt too much to keep looking.

      Everything George did made him think of Clay. He couldn't draw, work, or even look outside without countless memories resurfacing, all threatening to drown him.

     He laid down on his bed with a yawn, staring up at the ceiling. George rolled over on his side and hugged the pillow Clay had used close to his body, tears pricked his eyes as he caught a familiar whiff of vanilla.

     The scent was faint but it was still there. He buried his face in it inhaling deeply and pretended for a moment that it really was Clay. That nothing was wrong and he wasn't lying alone in his flat. Loneliness ate at his insides leaving him aching.

      George was thankful when he felt the heavy weight of exhaustion take over his body, his muscles finally relaxing. He squeezed the pillow tighter and felt his eyes fall closed, not bothering to reopen them again and instead allowing himself to fall into sleep.

~~~

hello, i hope you're all doing well! i also hope that the last chapter makes more sense now! let me know your thoughts/predictions or something i can do better!

love you all, and as always, have a good day or night wherever you're from and whenever you read :)