Chapter 115: Epilogue Part 6
Chapter 115: Epilogue Part 6
three years are apparently not enough for the silence to end because as soon as the initial surprise of
seeing abel 's apartment, and discovering every little detail of the boxy place—from the way abel still
doesn't make the bed when he gets out of it, or how the entire apartment is clean except for the mugs
that will always find their place somewhere in the corner of a coffee table, or the way he still puts the tv
remote in places he can't find—the couple cannot hold a conversation about anything even remotely
important when they are enclosed in the four walls that could make or break this reunion.
abel shifts uncomfortably on the other end of the couch, shifting his gaze just slightly to look at the way
noah seems completely unaffected by the distant between them, completely unaffected by how they
haven't even hugged each other despite of being away from each other for years, how he doesn't even
care enough to offer a conversation about what happened and what they are supposed to be and if
they are supposed to be something.
he feels completely out of place—he can't bring up his own mistakes, he can't bring up noah's
heartbreak, he can't bring up how shit of a father he was and how he wants to rejoin his own family and
be a better addition than he was all those years ago. earlier in the day he felt as if postponing this
conversation would be in their best interest but now as noah sits next to him, his lean body stretched
across the other end of the sofa as his eyes watch the screen intently—abel regrets putting it off for
later.
of course it hurt when he had to spend nights alone in this apartment and of course it took a lot, a lot of
time to get used to a different set of walls but right now, the incapability of just wrapping his arms
around noah's torso and crying into his chest and letting him know just how much abel has missed him
is causing a pain in his chest on a whole new level.
he has worked hard on how to control his emotions, how to deal with them, how to control his impulsive
nature—but all his recovery goes to waste in front of noah because there is only one person in the
entire world who he can expect to understand him fully—and that one person is doing absolutely
nothing to calm the chaos in his brain and the torment in his heart and in the usual abel roberts way of
handling things he doesn't know how to handle—the feeling of apathy contorts into anger and
aggression and pure adrenaline in his veins.
he tries to ignore it, the familiar heat in his chest, the more familiar watering of his eyes and he presses
himself firmly against the backrest and purses his lips, watching 28 days later with no conviction
whatsoever.
"i'm kind of hungry again, i think i'm getting really—abel? are you okay?" and abel can't answer the
obviously fake question because if he opens his mouth he is going to ruin everything with either a bitter
string of words or just the sour sobbing that he doesn't want noah to see anymore.
so he settles on the next best option and nods his head in agreement, shrugging his shoulders to
somehow convey his disinterest in noah's question.
"abel. . .what's wrong?" noah shifts closer and the air gets denser, barely finding its way into abel 's
lungs and he's really not used it because god—it's been a while since he's forgotten how to breathe.
and as soon as noah's fingers attempt to melt comfort into abel 's skin, the younger male snaps, both
metaphorically and literally as he pushes noah away and raises his hands up in defence because he
doesn't want any of this bullshit anymore.
if noah doesn't want to be with him, if noah has gotten over him then he doesn't have to pretend.
"you hate me," they were not the words that he wanted his mouth to slip, and neither did he want the
stream of tears to drip down his face, so he takes a deep breath and turns his back to noah before
running his hands frustratedly through his hair.
"i don't,"
"you do, you still hate me,"
"i don't abel, i never hated you, what are you even saying?"
"well someone has to say something noah, because you won't say anything!" he knows this is the
worst way of dealing with whatever they have right now—or lack of whatever they have right now—but
he can't do anything about it. nothing in his body makes sense when he's around noah, nothing in his
heart or mind or soul wants to be anything but himself.
"come here," and when fingers wrap around his arm and pull him back he shrugs them off, because he
can't admit that the majority of this. . .tantrum has been thrown because of the simple reason that he
misses noah and he can't do anything about it.
"no,"
"please?"
"y-you didn't even," he flushes, giving into noah's pulling and turning around to face him, his head tilted
down so he doesn't have to face the embarrassment of his actions. "you didn't even hug me," that
sentence coming from a twenty four year old man is depressing and embarrassing on a whole new
level.
and of course noah thinks the same because he bursts into a fit of giggles that cause abel 's cheeks to
flush further and he rubs his hands along his face to get rid of the redness. it does seem more than a
little bit petty to cry because your husband doesn't hug you but it's been so many years and so many
months and so many days and so many hours and so many minutes and so many seconds—abel was
bound to break sometime or the other. it was just one of the things that had the opportunity to trigger
him enough so that teardrops are racing down his flushed cheeks and mortification is stinging his
chest. NôvelDrama.Org holds © this.
"really abel?"
"honestly fuck you," he gets off the couch, mostly to escape the humiliation that comes along with his
overly reactive emotions but the blush on his cheeks darkens incredulously when noah pulls him back
down, only for the younger male to land directly in his . . . lap.
"w-what?" noah doesn't answer with words, he just wraps his arms tightly around his waist and buries
his face in abel 's neck.
"what are y-you doing?" abel bites his lip, his arms going around noah's shoulders instinctively and
noah sighs softly before looking up at him, abel 's entire body erupting with the figurative butterflies that
make him almost vomit—in a good way—and he gulps through his loud heartbeat before reaching up
and pushing noah's hair further off his forehead.
"trying to get my husband back, what are you doing?"
"shut up," abel shifts closer to him, letting his chin rest on top of noah's head and letting his fingers
tighten around the back of noah's shirt. "spork,"