Jaxon’s shaking when Allan returns almost fifteen minutes later, staring at the envelope and clipping on the coffee table as if he could make them vanish with his thoughts alone. His eyes are burning with unshed tears but they won’t be unshed for long. It’s over whelming to think about that day; it’s been seven years or at least it will be seven years come next Saturday. He doesn’t stop Allan from reading the clipping, but Jaxon does cut off whatever question he was going to ask with a sharp, “I’m not going. End of discussion.” He can’t go back not after three long years from being away from a childhood home filled with painful memories and broken promises. Only it’s far from the end of the discussion if Allan’s glare is anything to go by,
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Jaxon swallows the smile along with the burning sensation crawling up his throat. “You mean it’s hard for the alcoholic that just so happens to look like my dad.”
“You’re such a dick,” Allan starts, but it’s the thump of the mug being set down on the table that gives Jaxon the opportunity to bring his attention back to the briefs in his hand and the pile of laundry before him even if he can’t block out what Allan has to say. “He’s paying your tuition, still sends you Christmas and birthday cards.”
“Barely.” He doesn’t want to think about money and his dad’s famous years, when Leon Cross was a name recognized in bookstores everywhere, a time when home was actually home for him, “most of his money is still spent on spiced rum. And the cards come at least a month too late. Fuck,” he swears under his breath upon realizing that he just paired a white sock with a light gray one. He tries to separate them, but his hands are trembling like the way they did when he accidentally mixed a Monster into his coffee during freshman …show more content…
The hematite ring Allan wears on his right middle finger is cold where it touches Jaxon’s skin.
It somehow grounds Jaxon, but it also makes his stomach clench. He wishes he could be like Allan, whose life has been far worse than his own, who has every reason to be a cynic but isn’t. It’s just like he wishes that Allan wasn’t so calm and understanding when it came to him, because in a way it’s worse than pity and that makes his skin crawl.
“You can hardly compare our childhoods, Allan. I at least had one as short as it was.” It’s a low blow on his part, but he just wants Allan to stop looking at him like his behavior and attitude are acceptable or at least
Jaxon swallows the smile along with the burning sensation crawling up his throat. “You mean it’s hard for the alcoholic that just so happens to look like my dad.”
“You’re such a dick,” Allan starts, but it’s the thump of the mug being set down on the table that gives Jaxon the opportunity to bring his attention back to the briefs in his hand and the pile of laundry before him even if he can’t block out what Allan has to say. “He’s paying your tuition, still sends you Christmas and birthday cards.”
“Barely.” He doesn’t want to think about money and his dad’s famous years, when Leon Cross was a name recognized in bookstores everywhere, a time when home was actually home for him, “most of his money is still spent on spiced rum. And the cards come at least a month too late. Fuck,” he swears under his breath upon realizing that he just paired a white sock with a light gray one. He tries to separate them, but his hands are trembling like the way they did when he accidentally mixed a Monster into his coffee during freshman …show more content…
The hematite ring Allan wears on his right middle finger is cold where it touches Jaxon’s skin.
It somehow grounds Jaxon, but it also makes his stomach clench. He wishes he could be like Allan, whose life has been far worse than his own, who has every reason to be a cynic but isn’t. It’s just like he wishes that Allan wasn’t so calm and understanding when it came to him, because in a way it’s worse than pity and that makes his skin crawl.
“You can hardly compare our childhoods, Allan. I at least had one as short as it was.” It’s a low blow on his part, but he just wants Allan to stop looking at him like his behavior and attitude are acceptable or at least