The Smoke From His Lips

24

Jared curled up in his comfort hoodie next to Evan on the couch, glasses off and on the coffee table, head in Evans lap as Evan tried to calm him down by playing with his hair. Jared was a shaking mess, blubbering incoherently about Connor's arms and how he wish he could help. Anything Jared knows, Evan will know. It was a dynamic, Jared told most everything to Evan because he had so much trust in him. Jared didn't trust that many. Evan and Connor. Those two, he trusted the most. Sometimes Alana, but by wth everything. Well, he trusted Connor but not as much as he trusted Evan, so Evan knew absolutely every in and out of Jared. Jared didn't have many people in his life to trust fully, so Evan let him spill out any and every emotion he could.

"I don't know what to do I can't help him what am I good for if I can't help him?" Jared cried quietly, voice breaking ever so often in his sentences, which all mulled into one breath.

"Jared, you're good for a lot," Evan eased quietly as he brushed Jared's hair out of his face. "I don't know words for it, but I know you're good for a lot of things that you just don't see."

"Helping Connor isn't one of them! I can't help him, I can't help you a lot of times and I can barely help Alana and why am I here if I can't do anything?"

Evan bit his lip and sighed sadly, "You help all of us a lot. You make us smile, you joke with us when we need a mood lightener, you calm me down when I'm anxious. You help us all in different ways, Jared."

Jared shrugged in response. He didn't feel like he was helping. He was just kind of useless. Well, really useless. He knew that. He couldn't avoid it. He was reminded almost daily and almost every time he walked through his front door.

"Should I go to his house do you think?" Jared whispered quietly to Evan, picking at his nails before biting at the skin around them. His feet rested on the side of the arm rest, and he gently started to rock the pressure from his foot to just his heel. He picked up that habit gradually from Connor, seeing him do it so often when he's not in the best condition. Evan sighed quietly, "If you think that's best for the both of you, go ahead. If you're too unsure, text him or something." Jared bit his lip and nodded. He grabbed his phone.

"What if he doesn't respond?"

"... I don't know, Jare."

Jared took a deep breath and called Connor's number, pressing speaker and tossing the phone onto the coffee table. He waited the rings out and bit at and peeled dead skin off of his lip.

It picked up. "What?" Connor's voice was shaking. The whole call felt shaky and uneasy. They had a weekend to sit on the fact Jared knew about Connor's arms. It was Sunday, and they had to face each other again the next day. Connor was too ashamed to face Jared. He'd keep his head down. He didn't want Jared to leave him like his old buddy did. He'd rather be the one to leave first, as much he loved being with Jared. Loved being near him, around him, just him. It showed. It truly did.

"Con," Jared hesitated and responded slowly to avoid his voice cracking. "Can I come over?"

"I'm not home," he stated with an obvious strain to try to keep his voice cold and firm, but he couldn't stop emotion from spilling into it. "I'm with Alana. Come over if you want, just don't make me regret it. Don't give pity and don't apologize for this shit that you didn't do."

Jared took a deep breath. "Okay." On the other side he could hear Connor choke and cough, and he just knew he was smoking again. It was weird to say, but choking on cigarette smoke was distinct, especially in Connor. It was a raspy inhale and an empty exhale. It was dry. It made Jared feel the tingle of cigarette smell in his nose. He shakily got up, hugged Evan, grabbed nicotine patches and his bag and headed out the door. He wanted to help somehow, even if he didn't know how at all. God, he hated himself.
~

Skeet mc yeet this is a rushed and sloppy chapter but family shit is going on in my house and basically I'm a criminal for being on my phone?? Kill me

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