Treetops

21.

Triggers: homophobia

Evan woke up in the hospital surrounded by people in white coats. He was in immense pain and couldn't feel his left arm. It was firmly wrapped in a white cast. 

"Look who's awake," Connor teased playfully as he played with Evan's blonde hair. Evan smiled. "Can I sign your cast?" Connor asked. Evan nodded and the nurse gave Connor a black sharpie. "C-O-N-N-O and R," Connor said as he scribbled his name, taking up over half of the cast. "How did you even hurt yourself this bad?" 

"I-uh..." Evan thought of the previous night when he'd been called names he'd never repeat. He'd literally been pushed out of his home. Kicked out for good. He wasn't welcome back. "I... fell out of a tree," he lied. Connor laughed. 

"That's my little tree-loving boyfriend. You gotta be more careful, Vango." Evan smiled at the old nickname.

 "Connor, why do you call me Vango?" Connor sat on the hospital bed and sighed.

"It was a name my grandma used to call me. When I was little, she would come over almost every day. She'd tell me stories and take me to art museum. She opened up my mind to the world of art. I am forever grateful to her for that. After she found out about my first suicide attempt, she stayed with me for a bit. She took care of me a lot, you know? She was the most family I ever had. I started doing more and more art, and she was always proud of me. She called me her "Little Vango". I trusted her with everything... so I came out to her. She was horrified. I didn't know she was such a homophobe. She stopped coming over and when she invited us over, she'd make me stay home. She stopped calling me Vango and started calling me Connor again. When I met you, I saw what my grandma saw in me all those years ago. You were a hopeless, lost boy that needed help. You were my Vango."

"Connor?"

"Hmm?"

"I love being your Vango."