Post by Tanner on Feb 8, 2021 6:22:52 GMT -8
The mist hung low, obscuring most of the neighbourhood as he squinted out the bedroom window. Shouldering his backpack, he didn't bother to muffle his footsteps; having heard his dad already up from the graveyard shift. A sympathetic smile was offered as he mouthed a 'good morning' to the old man still in a bath robe. There was something about the ritual silence in the early dawn that he was reluctant to break, that the other seemed to agree with as he tiredly offered his son coffee and toast. It was just the two of them and the cat, who brushed up against both while she eyed the empty space in her dish; the perfectly edible ring of kibble ignored.
"...Feeling better?" he finally offered, watching the teenager quickly cut a banana to add to the peanut butter.
Noah offered a thumbs up, not really sure how to explain everything at this point and decidedly not wanting to have the conversation his dad was dancing around. He had taken most of the week off, keeping to his room with a sudden bout of flu symptoms that they both knew were anxiety related. He kept up with his schoolwork — not that that was ever a point of complaint; he was already in the gifted program and sorting through several university applications. At this juncture, his attendance was purely for social reasons. There was a lingering sense of foreboding that was messing with both their sleep schedules, and an influx of texting as they checked in on one another.
Call it instinct — something had changed, and they were both waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"I'm looking into that promotion again. Think you would want to go to UNLV?" his father floated. It was light hearted enough, knowing the school wasn't prestigious in the slightest, but Noah still smiled.
"Maybe. Think you'll be lonely?" he laughed, finally scratching the cat once the banana was off his hands. His father gave him a tight hug, murmuring for him to take his time on the road while the other ragged on him to get enough sleep before he went back to his watch with the hospital. It had snowed, but that wasn't weird for Reno. Still, he hadn't sprung for winterization, and regretted not taking the bus as the tires spun at the first intersection of their quiet street.
The hair on the back of his neck rose, and his attention drifted to the innocuous tree-line. The visibility was terrible, barely making out the faded shapes as his mind told him something had moved. The gas was pressed a little harder, his teeth gritting as he ran the option of asking his dad for help as the wheel spun uselessly on the bed of slush and ice. As the temperature gauge spiked in protest, the door of the sedan slammed with frustration after the trunk was popped, a loud sigh echoing across the road as his sneakers became victim to the blackened puddle. He hopped a bit to try and alleviate the worst of the soak, surprised as the amount of ice that managed to settle with the rapidly melting snow, and found himself off balance as his ass quickly joined the list of things wet and cold.
"For fucksake," he muttered, protest dying on his lips as the ice folded along the top of his hands. The shock stopped him from making any noise, nerves not yet registering that that particular layer of skin was now forever married to the asphalt. The mental alarm went off again, telling him that It was skulking somewhere in the periphery, as his focus settled on the crouching figure that mirrored his position. Their own hand snapped free of the puddle, the blonde hair being brushed back with the hood as he revealed his face.
The serpentine gaze held him in place, instincts screaming like a rabbit in a snare as the necrosis of his hands and knees caught up with his senses. Tears formed as everything processed at once, in the haze of panic and sadness.
He didn't want this.
He didn't understand what he did to deserve this.
Seeing the shovel from his car dangled from the corner of his eye, the only thought he had time for was regret that he had forgotten to tell his dad that he loved him, before the crunch of a temple meeting the flat of a steel edge punched everything inward.
...
..
.
His father didn't expect to see him walking up the road two hours later, shovel slung over his shoulder as he sheepishly asked for some of the cat litter.
Standing on the threshold, looking at his son with that haunted, somber look on his face, he hesitantly told Noah not to worry about making it to school today.
The boy stopped at the doorway, his father having not moved to give him permission to come in from the cold. Noah didn't blink, staring the other down as they hung there in the mist. The ruined, dented metal casting a warped reflection.
Call it instinct — something had changed, and they were both waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"...Feeling better?" he finally offered, watching the teenager quickly cut a banana to add to the peanut butter.
Noah offered a thumbs up, not really sure how to explain everything at this point and decidedly not wanting to have the conversation his dad was dancing around. He had taken most of the week off, keeping to his room with a sudden bout of flu symptoms that they both knew were anxiety related. He kept up with his schoolwork — not that that was ever a point of complaint; he was already in the gifted program and sorting through several university applications. At this juncture, his attendance was purely for social reasons. There was a lingering sense of foreboding that was messing with both their sleep schedules, and an influx of texting as they checked in on one another.
Call it instinct — something had changed, and they were both waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"I'm looking into that promotion again. Think you would want to go to UNLV?" his father floated. It was light hearted enough, knowing the school wasn't prestigious in the slightest, but Noah still smiled.
"Maybe. Think you'll be lonely?" he laughed, finally scratching the cat once the banana was off his hands. His father gave him a tight hug, murmuring for him to take his time on the road while the other ragged on him to get enough sleep before he went back to his watch with the hospital. It had snowed, but that wasn't weird for Reno. Still, he hadn't sprung for winterization, and regretted not taking the bus as the tires spun at the first intersection of their quiet street.
The hair on the back of his neck rose, and his attention drifted to the innocuous tree-line. The visibility was terrible, barely making out the faded shapes as his mind told him something had moved. The gas was pressed a little harder, his teeth gritting as he ran the option of asking his dad for help as the wheel spun uselessly on the bed of slush and ice. As the temperature gauge spiked in protest, the door of the sedan slammed with frustration after the trunk was popped, a loud sigh echoing across the road as his sneakers became victim to the blackened puddle. He hopped a bit to try and alleviate the worst of the soak, surprised as the amount of ice that managed to settle with the rapidly melting snow, and found himself off balance as his ass quickly joined the list of things wet and cold.
"For fucksake," he muttered, protest dying on his lips as the ice folded along the top of his hands. The shock stopped him from making any noise, nerves not yet registering that that particular layer of skin was now forever married to the asphalt. The mental alarm went off again, telling him that It was skulking somewhere in the periphery, as his focus settled on the crouching figure that mirrored his position. Their own hand snapped free of the puddle, the blonde hair being brushed back with the hood as he revealed his face.
The serpentine gaze held him in place, instincts screaming like a rabbit in a snare as the necrosis of his hands and knees caught up with his senses. Tears formed as everything processed at once, in the haze of panic and sadness.
He didn't want this.
He didn't understand what he did to deserve this.
Seeing the shovel from his car dangled from the corner of his eye, the only thought he had time for was regret that he had forgotten to tell his dad that he loved him, before the crunch of a temple meeting the flat of a steel edge punched everything inward.
...
..
.
His father didn't expect to see him walking up the road two hours later, shovel slung over his shoulder as he sheepishly asked for some of the cat litter.
Standing on the threshold, looking at his son with that haunted, somber look on his face, he hesitantly told Noah not to worry about making it to school today.
The boy stopped at the doorway, his father having not moved to give him permission to come in from the cold. Noah didn't blink, staring the other down as they hung there in the mist. The ruined, dented metal casting a warped reflection.
Call it instinct — something had changed, and they were both waiting for the other shoe to drop.