evocation → minizerk

p r o l o g u e

The blonde sat staring out the glass window, his forehead was rested gently against the cold glass. The moment was the exact definition of pathetic fallacy. The rain battered down on the patio and on the window. It mocked the tears of Simon. His tears broke loose from his watery blue eyes and travelled down the pale, almost bloodless, skin of his cheeks. He continued to look increasingly disconsolate to any possible gazing eyes around him. Although he knew all too well no one was watching him. It might have been the fact that he hadn't left his house in months or just that no one even wanted to bother him in his anguished, unsteady state. When one was in distress, it is others duty to console and comfort until they are at least comfortable with living in a secure position to carry on in life. However, when the worst has happened they knew that showing displays of sympathy would only be worthless. Like a scar, no matter how much cream you coat it with for it to heal, it won't work. It won't work because it's stuck there. It's not that no one cared because they did. They just didn't have enough of their own time to spend trying to get him to be happy when they knew that it wouldn't help him. His shaky fingers slid down the side of his trousers to pick up the phone sat next to him. The battle continued to pursue throughout his delicate body whether or not he made the call.

-

Josh, well, he wasn't doing much better, to be completely honest. Although he'd established a much easier way of handling his strong overwhelming emotion. He was seated on a high-backed uncomfortable chair, a concentrated beverage of some sort in his right hand. It was not like he would have known by any means, he was far over intoxicated. The influence of strong alcohol seemed to instantly dispose of him being in a melancholic mood. He didn't seem to have a care in the world when he was under the influence of alcohol. Well, at least that was what he thought until he felt his phone quiver through the soft material that was his trousers. Confused as to why anyone would call him in his state, he drunkenly patted down his clothing foraging for his phone from where his overly annoying ringtone flooded the silence of the now habitual pub. When his incompetent hands ran over the phone he retrieved it from his back pocket.

"Same again, sir?" The squeaky voice of the rather irritating blonde bartender inquired. "No thank you. I'm just going to take a-" Josh spoke in his hazy state to a second to recall how to speak "-call." He hiccuped slightly as staggered aimlessly out the wooden door and out into the cold bitter winter air. He finally answered the awaiting call but only just as his vision blurred the more he attempted to focus. "H-Hello!" He slurred with a slight addition of childish and giddy tones to his voice. "Hello," even in his condition Josh could never have mistaken the all too familiar voice as Simon. "Simon?" He questioned as if in disbelief more over confusion as he was already certain it was the blonde. "Josh." The voice on the other side seemed to have taken a deep breath and it was prominent that tears had been spilt. "Are you okay?" The thought of Simon had instantly set an effect on him, he felt himself sobering up as soon as the conversation started. "No," he mumbled abruptly "Can you... come and cuddle me?" he sounded shy and timid in which he never really was that sort of person. "I'm always in the same place." He added.

"I'll be right over."