The clanking of the phone shattered what little of the night was left and struck me out of my dazed sleeplessness, without my realizing it the dim morning light had turned the pitch blankness of my room into black against black shapes that I could barely recognize despite the fact that I had lived within this space the better part of five years. The bed shifted and the warm solid weight in my arms pried free enough to grab the cell phone from his discarded pants, crumpled at the floor near his shoes. He had taken to carrying his cell with him when I started to unplug the phone, he never argued, didn't yell at me from cutting off the contact, just set up another channel.
I suppose that's just how he was, he didn't fight the blocks in the road anymore, just went around them. Conserved his energy for other things, like maintaining our relationship in secrecy, which no doubt must have been hard for him.
He sat up then, the voice on the phone clear to any ear within the room, and mine were pricked to attention.
"Yeah, yeah we're done. It'll be great, and the board will without a doubt accept it, just wait and see, you'll be proud." He said with that laughing tone he always used when he was covering something up. I'm certain I'm the only one who knows about it, because I'm the only one he never uses it on, but sometimes I wonder how it can't be so obvious.
His back is to me, and my arms are still lying limp where they fell when he left them. I should have held on tighter, I think, I probably would have been able to keep him. He never leaves when I ask him not to, at least I don't think so, I guess, I never asked him not to leave. In my mind I have, I've begged him, with all my heart I've begged him to stay, but he can't hear my thoughts, so those times wouldn't have counted.
I know I should be mad at him, cry, scream, rage, and beg him in voice and in body to stay here with me forever, but I can't do that. His life is so hard, his work so strenuous, I can't be another burden.
I have to be his comfort.
But why can't I have some comfort once in a while?
"The idiot needs me home." He said plainly, slipping out of the blankets and off the bed with a kind of ease he never displayed in high school. I wonder if Dash ever got to see the casual, confident side of him or if it was all dorky clumsy college dropout all the time. "You know he can't do a thing for breakfast but cereal, he can't even brew coffee on his own."
I should be relieved at his words, so many faults, that's all he talks about with Dash, all faults, but even when he's mad and ranting there is this tone in his voice. Like even the little things that get under his skin makes him love the lump head. It kills me. He always looks at Dash with such admiration, such tender glances. Everybody could see it, and they smile knowingly. Ever since senior year when they got together, I thought that was the end of me, that my whole heart would have just broken down and never start working again.
But every once in a while, just like in high school, he would show up at my house, and things would go as they always did.
"Bye Kwan." He says, leaning down o mush his lips against mine. "I'll let you know how our project does."
And then he's gone. Dressed and ready and out the door before I can even get the strength into me to sit up.
I want so much to call after him. To bring him back and keep him here with me.
"Please, don't go." I whisper into my pillow, knowing he's already gone. "Don't."
Poor Kwan. This is just my feelings about my sudden change in the fandom, going from Danny/Kwan to Danny/Dash. It left me feeling a bit bad for the poor guy, and now this just makes m feel worse.
Ah well, at least he gets some sheet-time with the ghost-boy right?
My entire WIP folder just up and disappeared. I'm thinking I accidentally cleared it out sometime this week at one of the computers in class. Monday I'll head up and check the recycle bin, it should still be there since I haven't emptied any of them on any of my accounts in two weeks, and I'm certain it was there Monday.
Anyway, yup that's my excuse for the delayed updates on everything, including the second part to two-shots Silver Bells and Width of a Thread. Photo 0pportunities update, however, is in its own folder and so is safe. Good thing too, since that'd probably deter me from typing up another chapter for maybe a month.-Rin