stone blue

| 7 |

{ Heya loves, so sorry this chapter has taken forever but I had some health emergencies, this will probably be the longest chapter cause I feel so bad about not updating for a while, anyway. I hope you love this chapter }

Troye Sivan》The Quiet

Ed Sheeran》Shirtsleeve

Lolawolf》 Drive

My fingers graze the metalic railing as I descend the ice clad steps into the train depot. It's already ten minutes past 2 and I could not be in a bigger panic. My backpack bangs against the nape of my bare back as I jog, nearly breaking into a sprint.

All that's running through my mind is the fact that I might have just ruined my chances of leaving here, but as I reach the bottom I see that the lines are still crowded and the anxiety settles. My heart swells at the opportunity, and I rush through the crowd searching for my heart.

It feels like I've been looking for hours but in reality it's only been two minutes. I guess that's what happens when your searching for something you know in the back of your mind is all you have. It leaves you with a trickling horror that clamps onto your spine and just lingers there. My feet are fumbling with the pavement as I pass half smoked cigarettes bent at the end, like a child in fetal. Like me, before I met Louis. A horrendous metaphor, I know.

I drag myself through line after line, pushing through people trying to spy at the boy with electric eyes. But I don't see him anywhere, and after showing up ten minutes late I get the feeling that he might have departed.

What if he's not here? What if he forgot or he left without me? Would he do that to me?

Once the idea is in my head it's all I can think about, and it drives me insane. It tears at my brain to the point where I want to scream, afraid that the thoughts will consume me; and then an even more sinister thought punches me in the gut. I'm winded, my eyes filling with tears and not from the realization the he might be no more, but the fact that I might have to lug my ass all the way back to Tyson.

Tyson.

What if Tyson actually killed him? I mean Tepenga had said that she had saw blood- a lot, so maybe he was actually gone.

My hands tremble just thinking about it and I have to sit. I bring myself to sit at a bench, grabbing at my knees, trying to gather more air inside my lungs to only dispel them through crippling sobs.

He can't be dead he texted me yesterday, I mean he has to be alive.

I grab my backpack from my shoulders and unzip it, feeling around the bottom for my phone, until I realize- it's in the bottom of a subway trash can.

I push my head into my fist, groaning in annoyance at my crass decision to chuck my phone away.

"Shit!" I scream, throwing it shut and sitting it beside me. "This is fucking great."

"You know I hate it when you curse," I hear from beside me, a rustic voice laced with familiarity.

I turn to ice sitting on this bench, my fingers digging into the coils of metal.

I pinch my eyes shut, grabbing ahold of my bag and twisting around to see who's talking, but I don't want to open them; afraid that the voice is all in my head and it might dwindle. Once I open them, every bad thought of him leaving me behind or dead in a river vanquishes from my mind and all I'm left with is stifled emotions.

He doesn't look like himself, not even a little bit. He's wearing sweatpants, new, I assume with the draw-string hanging from his waist. A mismatched plaid shirt adorns his torso and hanging from his neck is the pendent I got him two years ago for his birthday. It's when I see his face, so interlaced with spectrums of brown and blonde and eyes so blue they're translucent, that it actually hits me that he's here, we are together again.