Through the Screen novel Chapter 105

cold fingertips glide over the bridge of noah's nose as he attempts to push his glasses further up, his eyes absentmindedly watching the man responsible for his constantly aching chest and his constantly choking throat and his constantly breaking heart.

abel sits motionlessly across from him, his half open eyes trained on his fiddling fingers like they have been since morning, his tangled hair plastered to his forehead and his cheeks blotchy with several shades of pink that fade into purple bags under his heavy eyelids. a grey jumper hangs loosely from his shoulders, cloaking his frame completely along with a black scarf that wraps around his neck—noah assumes it's because he wants to hide the mistakes of the previous night. he hasn't looked at noah since yesterday, when noah was sobbing pathetically and lying to himself as he said he wanted a break.

he didn't want a break, what he needed was for the war between righteousness and irrationality to stop so he could finally give into his toxic relationship and torture his weak heart again. he wanted all this pain, all this hurt, all these mistakes to stop hovering his brain, to stop altering his feelings, to stop making him feel as if he could live without abel. the idea of being without abel is revolting, he hasn't imagined life, he hasn't imagined laughing or crying or feeling or breathing without abel by his side and he likes the familiarity too much to even give it a thought.

noah doesn't know why the storm of emotions hasn't died down yet, being away from abel, being away from the constant reminder of his betrayal should have weaved a certain comfort through his breathing, should have collected his scattered thoughts, should have cured his ailing heart by at least an inch but it was only breaking apart further, only making the ache in his chest more prominent, only torturing him all over again.

it's unhealthy, it's wrong, it's completely and utterly ridiculous—but noah can't accept the fact that abel has finally listened to him and stopped trying. he can't bear the fact that abel might actually consider giving him space rather than trying to make noah forgive him, that he might actually leave if noah asks him to. it's not even been a week and he is so tired, so tired of fighting his feelings, so tired of telling himself that he doesn't love abel, so tired of pretending to be someone who can choose between right and wrong and mind and heart and body and soul.

he can't, he knows he can't because every part of him, every fibre of his being and all his thoughts and love and heart and body—it all belongs to abel. he belongs to abel.

he knows he will forgive abel, after a day or two or four—he will forgive abel for all the heartbreak, for all the tears and arguments and the emotional and mental breakdown. he will forgive him for breaking his trust and his sanity and build them up again from scratch because he is so hopelessly in love with him that all this betrayal hurts less than letting him go, hurts less than the thought of not being with him.

he knows they will not be the same—tongues will be too bitter, eyes too guarded, minds too distracted, lungs too damaged and hearts too caged to love again because neither of them would be healed enough to escape the agony that comes along with heartbreaks. and yet noah will have it all over again, he will let himself be completely ruined by the man sitting across from him if that's what takes to be loved by him.

every day, every minute, every torturously slow second he is reminded of just how dysfunctional they are, how neither of them can be good for each other. of course they love each other, there is an unmistakable similarity of thought and an unmistakable difference in personality, there are so many things they have discovered about each other and so many more left, there are so many things they have done together and there are so many yet to do, there is so much love between them but so much more toxicity, so many arguments and tears and mistakes and fights and broken hearts and collapsing minds and failing relationships and distrust and distance.

them together is such a destructive cycle but so undeniably beautiful, something so addictive and obsessive that neither of them can make a move to just get out of it for the better.

"time for some presents!" he visibly snaps out of his thoughts, his eyes leaving the coffee table that they were unintentionally fixed upon and moving around the room, from his mother clapping excitedly to adrian who has a fond smile on his face to abel, who still refuses to look at him.

he had planned presents earlier this week, the week where abel was on that bewitched business trip. he'd got adrian a gift card, gaming discs, an unhealthy amount of sweets and some socks and for abel he had already bought a lot of things but for the sake of the situation he decided to go with something that was the most impersonal—not that he wanted to exchange gifts with him but just because his mother would act suspicious if they didn't. he was planning to buy a gift for his mother later when he went to visit her but thankfully in the things he bought abel, there was a selection of scented candles that would be appropriate for gifting.

ten minutes later he was sitting with four gifts in his lap, two from his mother, one from adrian and one from the heartbreaker sitting silently with a half hearted smile on his face. he waited for everyone else to open their presents first, only because he did not have enough energy to react to his own.

he watched as his mother dramatically shed tears when she saw adrian's failed attempt of knitting something back to her, it was just a half done hat, the yarns all overlapping each other but the old woman claimed this was the most thoughtful present she could have gotten. abel got her a purse and she said she was thankful because she needed a new one and for noah she just said it was something that she already expected.

adrian was next, his excited smile and wide eyes made him look younger than he was and there was a conjoined laughter from everyone once adrian screamed at the selection of games noah had gotten him. noah's mother had always been a spoiler, books and cards and games and cookies—adrian could not stop himself from pouncing on the old woman for a hug. abel had gotten him a new football jersey, some shoes and fairy lights that he could put in his bedroom, and adrian seemed pretty excited about the idea of making his room slightly more aesthetic than it currently was.