Days Go By | lavashipping

**.*.*.*.**

His mind was reeling at such speed, he couldn't focus on a single thought. He couldn't even tell if there was a single thought. Maybe it is some phantom thinking. Maybe he is just thinking that he is thinking and he actually isn't thinking at all.

There wasn't anything particular to be seen, yet he couldn't tear his eyes away. Or maybe there was, he couldn't really recall what's right in front of him despite having lived in this room for several months already.

There was this strange feeling of homesickness. At that point in his life, Cole couldn't tell anymore where his home was. This flat? The house they still own but neither him nor his father have visited in over a year? The old house that now probably belongs to some other family and that is forever gone from his life except for the fragments scattered across his memories? Kai's flat that felt more welcoming than his own despite being filled with reminders belonging to a whole other family?

What is home? Did he still have it? Or does it wither like a flower the moment the roots fail to function?

He missed his childhood room. He missed all the plushies, all the papers which were laying everywhere, filled with messy scribbles and various drawings. He missed the orchid that sat on the window sill despite it not being his favourite flower. He missed his jars filled with rocks from different trips. He missed the soft laugh spreading through the house like golden morning sunshine.

It was getting close to a decade and his thoughts still kept coming back to her no matter what.

And of course, it made sense, but wasn't he supposed to reach a point liberation from all the weight? Wasn't he supposed to be moved on already?

He kept thinking he was free. It's been years, he was living in a new city on his own, getting his name out there, meeting people… Aren't demons meant to be tied to a single place and not follow you around? It's always a haunted house, not a haunted person.

He was fine, he was doing good – more than that. There isn't a single reason to stay in his old tracks and yet that's exactly where he remained stuck. And worst of it all was that he felt the itching to get up and turn the lights on in his studio once again, as if exactly that wasn't the reason for his restless mind. It was a cursed cycle. In a way, he just moved from a different source of rachet and while this won't poison him physically, it sure has been poisoning him psychologically.

As if their consciousnesses were connected, an arm wrapped around him. Although summer nights were difficult to deal with as they are, Cole welcomed the warmth on his waist as well as the warmth on his neck. He clutched onto the hand as if it were a lifeline. Or maybe he needed to know that he really is there. Some sort of grounding; a string guiding him out of the labyrinth of his mind.

You never know you're still running away until you trip. But he was not going to hit the ground this time. And he was not going to continue running away because he's done. He doesn't have to anymore. He doesn't want to.

“I don't think I'm over my mum's death, Kai.” They're never going to know about those words. And Cole will probably never know whether or not that's a comforting thought. Not even the moon was there that night to witness his words. Kai had a point, he had to be there for himself the most. “Is that bad?”

Kai didn't respond. He just held him in their sleep and breathed into his neck in that steady rhythm ocean's waves could envy.