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“Tell me you love me,” Jon murmurs, shame pooling heavy in his gut, so much sickening guilt holding him down like a physical weight in his body. He doesn’t look away from Tim’s eyes. He doesn’t grant himself that reprieve.
It used to be that when he needed lifting up, Tim’s jokes could pull him from his gloomiest moods. When Jon felt bogged down, his mind like the heavy burden of sopping clothes in an unexpected rain, Tim’s voice was a balloon tied to his wrist by a string, carrying him above the clouds. Jon remembers it with a sick feeling in his chest, like something twisting until it breaks. -
Bookmark Notes:
A stab in the chest, actually.
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Bookmark Notes:
OW OW OW OW OW
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Bookmark Notes:
Ouch
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