Missing [ST]

Thirty Five

Third of April: One Week Later

Steven felt odd.

It was coming up to three weeks without drugs in his system, but he did not believe it was the reason for his confused sobriety. It was more complicated, and something he didn't quite understand.

Steven was frustrated by pessimism, delighted by optimism, but even with his constant battle of polar opposites, he always found a middle ground, as unsteady and exhausting as it was.

It really was a strange feeling. One that kept him up at night, and wondering throughout the day, but when it was making the crave of drugs disappear and acting as a reminder of what he had to live for, he couldn't say he was entirely opposed.

Thinking about people he had known his whole life, people he trusted, his family, his close friends, Steven was subdued to a lot of personal reflections. But, when he wasn't stuck in his past, he thought about Leah, the person who had brought out a side of him that he was convinced had been forgotten.

"You need to stop punishing yourself for the things you can't change."

"You can start by taking me off your list of mistakes."

Steven wished he could have been awake before her. To see her in the glow of the morning, which was actually the afternoon as it turned out. He wished he could go back a week and sleep like that again, because it had been forever without a harrowing nightmare and an uninterrupted night.

But Leah returned that same day, adamant about taking the empty room before he had the chance to make up another lame excuse. It became a set in stone condition with no room for his petty arguing, and with absolutely no chance of a repeat, and the more it settled, the more Steven struggled with his feelings.

His days could be occupied by procrastination, but his nights were lonely and the warmth took its toll in feverish shivers. There was no assurance to guide him, and he was desperate to get it back before the unstable middle ground that had saved him so far, really did give out beneath him.

<>

The morning had been peacefully quiet, which was a stark contrast to the noise in Steven's head.

He hadn't really slept again, and was trying to figure out a combination of words without it sounding like babbling nonsense.

It didn't help that he hadn't spoken to Leah properly for a week because it had become too awkward to be alone together, and if it did happen, then the dumbest excuse was the only viable option.

They had avoided a real conversation at all costs, and it was building up on him far too much for his liking.

Wringing his hands by his sides and mumbling what he thought was a good start to his small confession, Steven stepped outside into the kind April air that had so far refrained from rain.

Spring had appeared so the evergreens were accompanied by bouts of colour in cool whites, pastel pinks, and a hint of baby blue, and when the sun was shining, it was like a wild paradise of flowers.

He was in his own little world as he followed the slate of the path, but the track of his nervous eyes lit up to the sound of laughter. He ventured towards the new bloom of the cherry blossom trees, vision encapsulated in an umbrella of soft pinks, and it really would have been the perfect setting to mask his stuttering, if he wasn't already beaten to it.

The very moment Steven caught sight of two people, he stopped, and was convinced that his heart had just broken for the umpteenth time.

It was Joey who was shaking the branches and making Leah laugh in a shower of nature, not him. It was Joey who brushed the petals from her hair despite her attempts to bat him away, not him. And when the laughter died down and the air resettled, it was Joey who rested his palm on her hip, not him.