❝ PARRISH .❞ an apologetic hush of his voice , he reaches a hand out to carefully grab against the boy’s wrist for a small tug .
❝i’m sorry , for being so difficult .❞ it was a routine by now , for him to show up by parrish’s door - steps , bruised & tired , then for parrish to slowly patch him back up . the cycle returned to square 1 afterwards , always . it had been alright before parrish had moved back into his life . before , it was all he could do to himself to distract himself from the overwhelming pain of loss & to combat the constant war between his father’s rage & his mother’s meekness . it had earned him the tiring title of , ‘ the crazy fucking tyver kid ‘ or a ‘ rabid dog ‘ , coined kindly by jasper himself .
& the fact was that he had done nothing to deny the rumours , but his actions only further confirmed them . each day , it was just another fight against the hostile world & the cruel words from kids he barely knew in school
, —- & it had been getting tiring . everyone acting as if they’d known him , although all they had ever known about him was through the passing mouths of a blatant talker like jasper . it was alex that he’d met next , & together , they were coined as the two pairs of mad kids in school . they had joined the lacrosse team together , made it , blew off steam through it together . sometimes , they cracked their rage against each other , but somehow , it had been better than being left alone with himself .
next , parrish returned . it was as if the chapters of his life had slowed to a pause , & it was something he’d hardly been able to believe . he could count the days that he spent watching through his bedroom windows , waiting for the front doors of the neighboring house to swing open again , to see the friendly crinkle of smile on parrish’s face , his mother waving kindly behind him . it never happened , until ——-
❝i don’t mean to be , but i guess i’m just not trying hard enough . ❞ it was like trying to tear through his skin . the defensive rage was something that he’d shrouded over himself in protection for years , that it had become a thing like his own skin now , & to be removed of it , . . it felt terribly wrong . the saying went in school already , that elliot had calmed down by a hundred degrees ever since parrish had started attending the alexandria school . it made parrish a some kind of a star , especially among the teachers . of course , he had gotten elliot to cooperate , & earn an A through a whole semester of chemistry . & it was parrish that they were thanking above anything else . & that was only right , of course .
slowly removing his fingers from parrish’s wrist , he brings his attention to the first aid box instead , scrambling through the contents before discovering the bottle of pain killers . a half his mind convinces him to tuck the bottle inside his sleeves when parrish wasn’t watching — , but he only makes a small scowl before unscrewing the cap , & rattles the pills out over his palm in concentrated silence .
he swallows them down dry , without a twitch or a grimace . it was something he’d done often enough to forget about the unpleasantness of the whole process , which included swabbing the alcohol pads down the cuts & bruises on his face .
❝oh , your mom shouldn’t worry so much . if i’m not finishing the food , mary anne will . she’s addicted to your mom’s cooking . i think she’s about to move in with you guys soon . ❞ swabbing the alcohol pad down the heavy bruising on his lip , he makes a slight grimace before lifting the alcohol swab away , & offering a kind of grin towards parrish .
❝ drop me a kiss , you shouldn’t be worrying so much either . ❞
“Just stop right there, don’t apologize
for anything.” There it was, the carousel of emotions coming
around, right on schedule. He’d show up in a harried frenzy, Parrish would protect
him for the night, and then come the stinging I’m sorry that
had Parrish cringing inward on himself. It hurt his heart, to hear Elliot
apologize for things that were not his fault to bear, at least in Parrish’s eyes. He was a product
of his environment, a stone worn down and smoothed over by the wearing of
fast-paced time and too many black eyes. His hardness was not his weight to
carry, not entirely, at least.
“ou don’t need to ‘try’ harder, whatever that means. I’m proud of you for even just getting up every morning. If anyone’s gonna be saying sorry here, it’s me. I
still feel guilt, still lay awake at night, for the stupid thing I did… I don’t even wanna put a name to it, that’s how awful I feel.“ Many an evening he would
be comfortable in bed, only to be rudely awakened by the memories of past
mistakes, of the could have, would have,
should haves that ran around his brain like it were a high school track
meet up there. He couldn’t forgive himself fully, for leaving Elliot so suddenly, slamming the
door so rudely, denying his own feelings and shoving them down within himself
so harshly.
He feels partially responsible
for the way Elliot was, although he’d rather saw his own arm off than ever admit that out loud. It would only cause a storm of emotions
that Parrish really wasn’t up to experiencing. Not right now, anyway. What he liked to instead
focus on was the fact that Elliot was better with him in his life, and vice
versa. They were a duo unlike any other, anyone in Alexandria could see that
clear as day. They enriched each other’s existences, and they were together so often it felt
wrong to be apart for too long (which, to
them, was like, twelve hours at a time).
He smiles to himself and
sighs, but his lips twitch a bit when he watches Elliot fiddle with the pill
bottle. Even as he moves to wash his hands in the sink, he makes sure to keep a
trained peripheral gaze on him, to ensure he doesn’t try anything. He’d been through too many moments of catching his
boyfriend stealing bottles from the nurses’ office at school, or even in his own medicine
cabinet, once. Each time, Parrish made him flush each and every pill down the
toilet. You’re not going
back to juvie, El. It’s just not happening! I’ll be freakin’ damned if that’s gonna go down!
When he’s finished wiping his
face with the wipes, and he hears Elliot’s lighter, softer voice bounce against his ears, his
smile returns with full intensity. “Maybe I should let Mary Anne move in. At least she has some sense of manners at the dinner table.” He can’t hold back a cheeky grin
as his wrists come together to lock behind Elliot’s head, fingers playing with the wispy hairs on the
nape of his neck. When Elliot asks for a kiss, he’s more than happy to oblige, feeling as though it’d been too long since
they’d shared an intimate moment that wasn’t marred by some bully or threatening entity (or in one instance, June, which had been
incredibly awkward).
When he pulls back, he screws up his face a bit,
sticking out his tongue with obvious displeasure. “Blegh, gross, you taste just like those alcohol wipes!” He tips his head back,
laughter flowing from his parted jaws as he gently brings their foreheads
together. “Ugh, why did I kiss you when
I literally just saw you use one of those
on your mouth? How dumb am I?”
But he can’t stop himself from
dipping in for just one more peck, the stinging taste of the rubbing alcohol be
damned. “Shit, sorry, I hope that doesn’t hurt you much. Your lip looks like garbage…No
offense! It’s, uh, let’s say, hot garbage, in the best way, I swear!”
He knew this was just a
defense mechanism, a way for them to push out the demons that lurked just
outside the bathroom door. But he also knew they desperately needed this, some
kind of distraction that would help them forget the sadness and heartache, the
complicated emotions that haunted them so very often. Right now, this cramped
little bathroom was their sanctuary, and the silly banter and kisses were fuel
to keep them going, keep them alive and
together for just one more moment. Right now, this was enough.
A knock on the door, though, brings
this good thing to an end, as all things must go. “Boys, you okay in there?
I’m
worried, you’ve been in there for a while…”
“We’re fine, mom! Almost on our way out!” Parrish calls back, and June seems satisfied with
that answer, although it takes her a moment before the sound of her footsteps
retreating down the hall can be heard. He turns back to Elliot, pressing an
index finger to his nose to poke him as he smiles a soft and subdued smile and says, “Well, you’re all fixed up. What’re you planning on doing
now, Mister Man? Don’t tell me you’re gonna leave the doctor’s office so soon! You haven’t even gotten your lollipop yet, for being such a good patient! Oh, and shut up, dummy. It’s my job to worry about you, and I’m going to keep worrying about you till the cows come home, so get used to it!”