𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘, 𝐌𝐄 | dear evan hansen oneshots (HIATUS)

parallels [c. murphy]

in many respects, connor's life at the murphy household is similar to math.

some might even call these similarities parallels.

too many variables, hardly any constants.

for some reason, connor liked math. it's a puzzle of sorts, solved by following rules and logic. quite straightforward, really.

if you understand the rules, you understand the concept. once you understand the concept, nothing can stop you from solving those questions, no matter how difficult. there's only so many ways you could be tested.

it's merely the abiding of rules and usage of logic, after all.

it's simple.

unlike his home life. the only constant in that equation was chaos. the murphys seemed so put-together to anyone on out the outside looking in. but really? they were a mess.

and those so-called "constants" changed day by day, too.

yeah, the constant in their household was chaos, but what kind?

one never knew what kind of trouble brewed that day.

today, the constant seemed to be slammed doors.

larry had been in a foul mood when he left for work this morning. he'd slammed his car door.

cynthia had been tense since morning. she seemed to have had it together until all of a sudden, she didn't. the last straw came for her when she'd burned herself while cooking. she'd slammed the kitchen door.

zoe apparently had a bad day at school, and as she was letting off steam talking to cynthia about it, the latter wasn't having it. it had only escalated from there. in the end, zoe's bedroom door had been slammed shut.

another interesting parallel between connor and math: they both tended to surprise people, for better or for worse.

distance had long since pulled him and zoe apart, but still, he knew her well enough not to upset her further until she was ready to talk about it.

around an hour or so later, connor gently — but hesitantly — knocked on zoe's door.

she, also, knew her brother well enough to know he'd come to check on her in situations like this when he wasn't high.

she had assumed he was, but she had been wrong. thus, it came as a pleasant surprise when the gentle knocking rang across her room.

they had indeed drifted. they could no longer easily read each other like an open book. instances like these — assumptions — were proof. and though neither admitted it openly, they still cared for each another.

and so, when he knocked, she let him in.

when he asked, she answered.

when she cried, he consoled her.

when she timidly asked for a hug, he'd gladly granted her that wish.

since connor's arms were tightly wrapped around her trembling frame, his free hand gently combed through her hair.

zoe's head rested on connor's chest. her tears soaked through his favourite grey hoodie, but he didn't seem to mind.

the world faded around them. it was them, and only them, in a rare moment of peace.

***

comforting zoe wasn't new to connor. he'd done it countless times before during their childhood years. but now, it wasn't something he did very often.

but if he was being honest, it felt good to reconnect with his sister again after so many years.

comfort, peace, especially between the two of them...

it's not quite a variable, yet not quite a constant either... but it's something he could definitely get used to.