Through the Screen novel Chapter 98

abel sits alone on the dewy wooden bench in the park across from their--noah's apartment, a half empty tupperware container being the only thing that accompanies him, his feet scruffing against the multiple blades of grass that carpet the small area.

the air is comforting in a strange way, it's chilly yet soft, twirling the curly strands of his hair each time the sky decides to breathe, rolling over his cheeks swiftly and painting them a brittle shade of rose that can hardly be seen at this time of the night. the atmosphere above his head is swirling with dark shades, similar to abel 's emotional state but a lot more calmer, a lot more scattered.

abel takes another bite of his favourite cookies in the world, mentally appreciating mrs. lester's cooking skills and just like every other time, he tries to figure out what the hell she puts in them to make them this irresistible. he knows he's avoiding the situation, avoiding the fact how noah completely broke down on the line but he doesn't want to think about it too much.

he knows exactly what noah was thinking when he called him, it heals his heart in a strange way to know that noah still cares, and then breaks it all over again when he thinks of the fact that his actual death would be one of the only things to get out any emotion from noah.

he shakes the irrational thought out of his head and bites into his half eaten cookie.

he tries to focus his attention elsewhere--that was the reason he stormed out of the apartment in the first place--his eyes raking across the small biosphere around him; unaccompanied and rusty swing sets, random patches of tall grass shielding random poles scattered in the garden, trees whispering to the cloudless land above and stars struggling to shine through the thin layer of fog in the air.

abel settles on the stars, squinting harshly at the sky as if to make the fog suddenly disappear, but obviously, it doesn't work, so he gives up too soon, pushing the last piece of the crumbly biscuit in his mouth and dusting off his hands, his eyes moving from his shoes to his phone that rested next to him.

it had been only seven minutes since noah last called him but the short time period felt impossibly long when your fingertips were freezing and your tears were creating stalactites on your cheeks. he picked up his phone hesitantly and bit his lip before dialling noah's number.

surprisingly, he answered on the very first ring.