Break In My Heart

39. Midnight Drawings and Glasses

Above I attached Hostage by Billie Eilish. Give it a listen if you wanna :) enjoy
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The moonlight was spilling through the window as my pencil lightly moved across the paper.

Tyler was laying by my side, his chest steadily rising and falling as he slept. Despite me not being able to wrap my arms around him the way I usually did before going to sleep, a feeling of peace moved through me, especially because in the night, Tyler had subconsciously tangled his legs with mine while he slept. It was almost two in the morning but I hadn't closed my eyes. After Tyler's confession, I simply held him until he calmed down. I listened to his body and made sure not to hold him too close for too long nor did I do anything without his explicit permission.

The conversation with my dads went by in the discombobulating blur. I didn't listen to Tyler as he spoke to them. As selfish as it sounded, I couldn't bear hearing about the awful things that I saw him go through first hand. I merely read his body language and tightly gripped his hand when he slid his into mine under the table, seeking comfort.

Afterwords, we came back and he instantly fell asleep, likely exhausted from his emotional purge. Not too long after he closed his eyes, I got a text from my Papa explaining how Mr. Barnett had actually called him saying that he knew Tyler was there and that he was thankful we could offer him a place to stay during all the madness that was going on. When I asked Papa how Tyler's dad had gotten his number, he explained that it was likely through the Parent Book, an online resource that had all of the contact info for every parent of a football player at the school for carpooling so parents always had each other's info.

I had to admit that despite a big part of me wanting to be mad at Mr. Barnett for the unfair position Tyler was in, I couldn't. He was in the thick of it as well. That monster was threatening to take his kids. His life. His everything away for her own petty wants. It was an awful situation all around.

I sighed as I continued moving my pencil across the page. I'd decided to draw another picture for Tyler, but this time instead of it simply being a picture of him, I drew a picture of what I thought we looked like out on the field when we came out. The intimate way our lips met, the way you could see how much we loved each other through the gentle way we held each other, the smiles that tugged at our interlocked lips. All of it.

As my pencil continued racing across the page and leaving intricate lines and shades, my mind raced as well. Now that the emotional high I'd been riding on during Tyler's confessions and stories had waned, I was fully realizing how heavy the situation was. I mean, I understood when Tyler was staring me in the eyes with tears running down his face trying– and utterly failing– to convince me that he was fucked up beyond saving, God I understood it then, but now under the lens of having this and school and All-State coming up in less than 2 days, my skull was all but bursting. It all also made my heart ache for Tyler even more. Knowing him, his stubborn self would refuse to not go to All-State no matter how much logic and common sense pointed at that being a bad idea. Also, with his prime mode of assurance and relaxation (physical touch) being null and void at the moment, I realistically didn't know what I could do for him if he broke down all the way on the other side of the state.

The very thought made me sick. I really wanted to be there for him, but, I was coming to terms with the soul-crushing fact that I alone could do nothing for him. My hugs could only comfort him so long, my kisses would only distract him so much, and, as I'd learned, prolonged distractions only make facing the problem head-on that much harder.

I sighed as I looked at Tyler next to me. He still had that furrow in his naturally arched brows. "What am I to do for you, il mio re?" I softly asked. It was moments like this that I was studying his face that I really missed the feeling of his arms around me, even if it was just in his sleep. A selfish part of me wants to wrap my arms around him and pull him into me so I could be absorbed by him, but I fought the strong urge.