Just Stay (32 page)

So he tried to calm down, instead, getting a glass of water. He ended up throwing the glass against the kitchen wall, though, shattering it to pieces, and it felt so satisfying, that he threw another.

But it didn't last long. The satisfaction ebbed away only seconds after the shattering sound of glass shards faded, and Seb just stood there, breathing heavily, before slowly sliding down to the floor. And now, here he sits, back against the cupboards below the counter, staring at the opposite wall. There is broken glass everywhere, water running in droplets down along the wallpaper, and the silence is suddenly deafening. He takes a deep breath.

The clock above the kitchen door is ticking loudly. Funny, Seb has never noticed that before, not even when he had the clock in his own dorm room. He glances up at it. It's almost midnight; it has been almost an hour since Evan left. It's odd how it feels like it just happened, but at the same time, it feels like a lifetime ago.

Seb sits there for a while longer, thinking, going it all over in his head.

What happened?
Seriously, what
the hell
happened?

He looks down at his hands, and frowns, surprised at the blood he sees there. It seems that he placed his left hand against the floor, right on some tiny shards of glass, and there are a couple of small cuts on the heel of his palm. They sting, even more so when he slowly pulls out a piece of glass that has wedged itself there. And they keep bleeding.

Seb absently reaches for a towel hanging close by, over the handle of the oven, and twists around so he can reach the sink. He turns on the faucet and gets part of the towel wet, before turning it off again and sinking back down to the floor. He then proceeds to wipe away the blood, as well as he can, before he gingerly wrapped the towel around his hand, trying to stem the flow. All the while, he barely even flinches; it really hurts, but the pain feels oddly good. It's a welcome alternative to the sudden numbness he feels, anyway.

That's when he, for some reason, takes out his phone and dials Evan's number.

He should have known that Evan wouldn't answer. He doesn't even bother letting it ring, this time―Seb hears one ring, before it goes to voicemail, which he knows means that Evan deliberately cut him off. And he chews his bottom lip, hanging up even before the beep. He doesn't leave a message, doesn't know what he would say, anyway.

I'm sorry?
Is that what Evan wants to hear? Seb is sorry, sure, but not for the reason Evan will think. He's sorry they fought, sorry he pushed him into talking about something he clearly didn't want to talk about at the moment, sorry for hurting him and making him leave. Sorry for being so selfish, and not for a second thinking about the kind of pain Evan must be in, instead only focusing on how hurt and unfairly treated he felt at Evan's behavior.

He is sorry. He is so very sorry.

Seb tries calling him again, but to no avail. Evan cuts him off again, and again, Seb hangs up before getting the chance to leave a message.

He isn't really aware of how he starts crying. Or maybe crying is the wrong word; there is no sobbing, no hitching in the throat, no anguished sounds. Instead, there's just... well, crying. Just tears, slowly and silently running down his face, more of them than he would like.

He hasn't cried in quite a while. Actually, as he thinks about it, last time he cried was because of Evan, too. It was almost a year ago, when Seb fucked up so badly and basically broke up with him. He remembers talking to Sophie that time, admitting his own fears about Evan leaving him, anyway. It seems that he is doing a pretty good job of making that happen, himself.

It takes another hour of painstakingly picking up all the glass and vacuuming the kitchen floor, as well as more thoroughly cleaning the cuts on his hand, before Seb finally goes to bed. And when he does, he can't sleep. Instead, it's all he can do to just lie there, cold and alone, trying to not so much as look at Evan's empty half of the bed. And
fuck
, he even starts crying again, just as silently as before. Like he's too tired and too numb to cry properly.

He has no idea what to do.

♦

Seb tries calling Evan again the next day, more than once. But there is still no answer. Evan hasn't come back home, and Seb can't help but wonder where he has gone.

He's probably staying with Jake and Sophie, though, he realizes. Seb hasn't talked to either of them for a while, and he's so tempted to call them, right now. They have become really good friends, and apart from Evan, they are really the only people he trusts.

But they have done so much already. Jake and Sophie were both there, every time Evan and Seb fought and fucked up, and Seb can't help but feel that somehow, it's time to man up and handle this, himself. Although, it irks him a bit that Evan somehow has dibs on them, simply because he has known them longer, and Jake is his brother. Seb is certain that neither Sophie nor Jake would have minded in the least if he wanted to talk to either of them, but still―they need to deal with this, him and Evan.
He
needs to deal with this.

It's hard, though. It's hard, because unlike Evan, Seb is stuck here, in their shared home, where
everything
reminds him of Evan, who had the luxury of simply running away. And it's hard, because although Seb wants more than anything to fix this, whatever it was, he has no idea where to start.

What is he supposed to do? Should he keep trying to talk to Evan? Should he give him some space? He isn't even sure what the problem is, only that Evan is angry and hurt about his father, and that he's somehow projecting that onto Seb. And of course, that Seb acted like a complete, selfish child, unable to see the bigger picture.

They have both behaved like assholes, pretty much.

Seb has no lectures today, which is too bad, honestly; he would have welcomed the distraction. Instead, he does his best to study at home, and when that fails, he spends two hours playing
Bioshock
, before realizing that nothing can really distract him, anyway.

He calls Evan again. It's probably the third time today, and he doesn't expect him to pick up. And he doesn't pick up. And Seb hangs up without leaving a message, again.

It isn't until the seventh try, late that afternoon, that he for some reason doesn't hang up. Instead, he's almost startled at the beep that follows Evan's voice, asking the caller to leave a message, and he just sits there for a second. Then he blinks.

"Hi," he says dumbly, realizing how oddly broken and subdued he sounds. That wasn't really his intention. "I, uh... I'm not sure what to say."

He pauses, honestly at a loss for words. He swallows.

"I guess you're still mad at me," he finally says. "Can't blame you."

He chews his bottom lip.

"I just... I'm sorry."

Fuck
. Despite however Seb wants to rationalize it,
sorry
really is all he wants to say, all he
can
say.

"I'm sorry we fought," he says. "I'm sorry about what I said. You didn't want to talk about it, and I made you, anyway, and..."

He sighs heavily, leans his forehead against his palm, eyes closed.

"I just want to talk to you," he says. The words come out in a whisper, a breath, and sound so much more broken and sad than he intended. He didn't even really mean to say it out loud―he can't tell what difference it will make, anyway.

Seb feels like he wants to say something else, but he can't think of anything. There is so much he
wants
to say, but nothing would quite cut it, and after the way Evan has been acting the past several days, not to mention the night before, he very much doubts that it would matter. He feels like Evan just isn't coming back. Ever.

So Seb just swallows down the lump in his throat and hangs up the phone, taking a deep, shaky breath.

And he's crying again.

Seb would have gone to bed at a reasonable time that night, if he thought he would have any chance of actually falling asleep. Instead, he stays up, trying to distract himself with books and TV and video games, but it's pretty much pointless. And his stomach rumbles, because he has barely eaten anything all day, seeing as how he doesn't really have much of an appetite, at the moment.

At least he managed to fix up the cuts on his hand properly, though; they stopped bleeding pretty quickly last night, and the cuts are too small to even need a band-aid, at this point.

He's half-surprised, actually, that he hasn't heard anything from Jake, or Sophie. Despite the fact that he decided to deal with this on his own, they have always been there before, checking up on him, trying to mend whatever was broken between him and Evan. They care so much, and Seb is eternally grateful for all the support and help they have provided. Without it, he's almost certain that he and Evan never would have made it, in the first place.

But he hasn't heard from them today, not this time. Not a phone call, nothing. But that's probably a good thing, and if nothing else, maybe they have finally gotten tired of cleaning up his and Evan's messes. Not to mention the fact that if Evan is at their place right now, they're bound to take his side and not talk to Seb about it, especially if Evan is mad at him.

And that makes sense
, Seb thinks to himself. Because Evan has the right to be mad at him.

Seb was only half-expecting to hear from Jake or Sophie, considering their track record, but he's still surprised when he hears the doorbell ring. He glances at his phone to check the time; it's just past ten p.m. It isn't that late, but still.

He has the TV on, watching some show that he isn't even paying attention to, and he turns it off as he gets up from the couch, leaving the entire apartment in silence. He can hear that it's raining outside now, though. He hasn't noticed that, before.

Seb shuffles out into the hall, slowly, but the doorbell doesn't ring again. He isn't surprised; Jake and Sophie both know him well enough to give him some time and space, if he needs it, that he will answer in his own time.

So he takes a breath, bracing himself, but when he opens the front door, all the air practically goes out of him.

"Hi." The one word is tense, careful, and it perfectly matches Evan's entire posture, as he stands there, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He looks slightly slumped, as though weighed down, smaller, and Seb isn't used to seeing him like that.

Seb just stands there, eyes actually widened a bit, his hand suddenly gripping the door handle almost painfully tight. Evan looks at him, his entire expression careful and... he looks almost
ashamed
. And it doesn't help that he is completely drenched, Seb notices, wearing only an open, button-up shirt over his t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His clothes are soaking wet, his skin, his hair, as though someone just dumped a bucket over his head.

Evan seems to notice Seb scrutinizing him, and he looks self-conscious for a moment.

"I, uh..." He glances away, glances downwards, moving one hand up to smooth down over his face and stubble, his skin actually wet from the rain. "I sort of went for a walk, and... it started raining."

He's pretty much mumbling, and those green eyes are oddly scared, when they look back up at Seb. Seb doesn't move, doesn't say anything. Instead, he can't help but simply stare at Evan, as he stands there, outside the door, soaking wet, looking so lost and so small. And Evan looks at him, before shoving his hands back in his pockets.

"Can I come in?" he finally asks hesitantly, very gently, as though expecting Seb to say no.

Of course
, Seb wants to say.
Of course, this is your home.

"Yeah," is all he musters, and steps away from the door to make his way back into the apartment. He hears Evan enter behind him, tentatively closing the door.

Seb's heart is suddenly pounding, for some reason. Just the fact that Evan simply showed up, just like that, is starting to sink in, and he suddenly feels oddly scared.

He came back. He came back, against every expectation, and Seb really doesn't want him to leave again.

Seb is vaguely aware of Evan following slowly behind him, as he makes his way into the living room, in lack of anything else. It's dimly lit, the tall floor lamp in the corner giving the room a nice, warm glow. It's pleasant, and Seb realizes just how flattering that lighting is, as he turns around and sees Evan standing there, by the doorway, hands still in his pockets. He hasn't taken his shoes off, or his soaking wet, button-up shirt, but dear
god
, he looks so beautiful, it hurts.

Neither of them speaks for a few seconds, the silence only broken by the smattering of rain against the window. Then, Seb watches as Evan opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it again. He ends up doing that a few times, as though looking for the right words, before finally just exhaling heavily.

"I'm sorry," he says. He sounds sad, almost ashamed, and Seb swallows dryly.

"Yeah," he says, his voice low and subdued. "Me, too."

Evan's eyes looks just the slightest bit hopeful for a moment, before he shakes his head.

"No," he says. "No, I'm really sorry. I fucked up."

He looks down at the floor, and Seb waits, lets him speak.

"You didn't deserve that," Evan says, shaking his head. "Any of it."

He looks up again, eyes slightly glossy, as he grits his teeth.

"I freaked out about my dad," he says. "It did a real number on my head. And I took it out on you."

He swallows hard, biting down, as though trying to stay in control, and Seb resists the urge to reach out to him. Instead, he just sighs quietly.

"I get it," he says, before pausing, cocking his head. "I mean, I don't
get
it, obviously... But I get why you acted the way you did, I guess."

He glances over at the wall, simply to avoid Evan's gaze.

"I mean, I'm not happy about it," he admits. "But I get it. Just wish you would have told me."