Theo went home after the fight... His brother being the person he is and being very appropriate about his situation. It had Theo confused.
Theo and his brother, caleb, have a similar relationship to him and Elliot... Except for the faint love interest- yet Caleb still helped, he wanted to. "What can I do for my brother... I want to help you now, this is beyond ridiculous for Elliot to do... Do you think you guys will figure it out?
Theo shakes his head but then stops shortly. Still unsure about the whole mess. "I don't know, Caleb. A moment please?"
Caleb nods and turns to leave Theo's room, the pattering on the roof loud enough to not hear him walking. "Fair enought, I'll text Elliot. Take a breather and talk to me later on what you want to do. Ok?"
He finally leaves. Though he expects Elliot, or just imagines, him rushing through the door. Acting crazy like he lost a puppy and apologizing.
The door didn't move.
Theo stared at it until his vision blurred, until the edges of the frame wavered like heat on asphalt. Part of him half-expected it to open anyway-to hear Elliot's voice cutting through the quiet, apologetic, reckless, desperate. But nothing came. The only thing that moved was the thin line of light sneaking through the gap at the bottom, trembling with each draft.
He'd thought leaving would make it easier to breathe. It didn't. The air still felt thick, like guilt itself had weight.
He wanted Elliot again, to feel the warmth on his skin...he'd be wet if he went back, he'd be a coward for even considering to come back after that awful fight.
He shouldn't have let Caleb text him. It wasn't Caleb's place. It wasn't fair.
Theo reached for his phone on the nightstand, thumb hovering over the screen. No new messages. No calls. Just the silence humming through the rain.
He almost wanted Elliot to answer Caleb's message. To fight back. To beg. Because if he didn't- if Elliot just listened and stayed away- it meant Theo had been right. It meant this really was the end.
He dropped the phone back onto the bed, pressing his palms into his eyes. The image of Elliot's face from earlier burned through his mind, The way his voice had cracked when he said, I didn't mean it. The way he'd reached out, even as Theo turned away.
Theo's chest ached like something inside him had splintered.
He stood suddenly, pacing. The room felt too small, too quiet. Every part of him wanted to move, to do something, go for a drive, stand in the rain, anything that didn't feel like drowning in his own guilt. But every time he imagined stepping outside, he saw Elliot waiting there, soaked through, trembling, saying his name. And he didn't know whether he'd slam the door again… or pull him in and never let go.
Theo stopped by the window, pressing his hands on the cold glass. Staring into the blurred city lights, they smear into a mix of gold, green and reds.
"I don't know if I can keep doing this," he whispered.
His voice cracked on the last word.
Somewhere in the house, Caleb's door opened and closed. Footsteps crossed the hall- hesitant, almost checking on him, but they didn't stop. Theo exhaled shakily, grateful for the distance.
He turned from the window and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind wouldn't be quiet. Every memory of Elliot replayed out of order- the laughter, the shouting, the nights that felt too good to be real. All bleeding together until he couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
The rain softened, fading to a whisper. The air smelled like wet trash, the smell rising from below. It's the type of trash you'd smell if there was a homeless man sleeping in it.
Theo shut his eyes, mouthing words he didn't have the courage to send.
"Come back," he breathed into the dark.
Then, quieter-
"No… don't."
His mind was still rasing.