Silent Suffering
folder
Romance › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
6,943
Reviews:
26
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Romance › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
6,943
Reviews:
26
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This original, fictional work is the private property of Michelle and cannot be reproduced without permission. Any resemblance to a person, real or fictional is purely coincidental.
The Way Home
Here is a link to a drawing I did of Michael's painting from a few chapters back. His would be MUCH better than mine because he's actually good at art. Anyways, this will give you an idea of what I'm thinking.
http://knowthyself89.deviantart.com/#/d2rrafi
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wave. Hey Dad.
“Hey son. How was the trip?”
Pretty good. I found a way to occupy myself during car rides so they’re not so bad. Or rather it was Charlie’s idea. It helped a lot. I realize I’m rambling putting off the incredibly long car ride that’s about to happen. I busy my hands helping put our bags in Dad’s SUV but then the only thing left to grab is my pad and pencil. I stand looking at the car trying to convince myself to get in the thing. I feel someone brush my back and I force myself forward and get in the car. I scramble in, shut the door, put on the seatbelt and shove my hands in my lap. My breathing is a little wonky and I’m thankful that my Dad waits ‘til I give him the OK to get going. The car starts so I open my sketchpad and just start making marks. I can feel myself start to fall asleep so I just let go.
I open my eyes and it takes me a second to realize I’m still in the car. Then I make a big mistake: I look out the window. We go through an intersection and I see the headlights facing me. I immediately turn away, freeze up and start to have trouble breathing. I can hear somebody talking frantically and I feel the car swerving to the left. My panic rises even more. The car stops and I tear off my seatbelt and bolt from the car. I stand on the curb just trying to calm myself. I just keep thinking I’m going to be fine. I’m going to be fine. I just need to get back in and make it home. I have to make it home. I need to get back in the car but I really don’t want to get back in the car. Get back in the car. Get back in the car. Get. Back. In. The. Car. I force myself to get back in the car, shut the door and put on my seatbelt. My breathing hasn’t calmed much but I just put my head in my hand and deal with it. The car starts moving again and I don’t breathe for a second.
“We’re almost home son. It’ll only be another five minutes.” I whistle to acknowledge my Dad’s comment. The minutes drag and by the time I feel the car stop, I’m shaking. I get out of the car and just breathe for a second. I go to help get the bags out of the car. I feel three hands on my back and know that I have plenty of support. That thought gives me great comfort.
http://knowthyself89.deviantart.com/#/d2rrafi
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wave. Hey Dad.
“Hey son. How was the trip?”
Pretty good. I found a way to occupy myself during car rides so they’re not so bad. Or rather it was Charlie’s idea. It helped a lot. I realize I’m rambling putting off the incredibly long car ride that’s about to happen. I busy my hands helping put our bags in Dad’s SUV but then the only thing left to grab is my pad and pencil. I stand looking at the car trying to convince myself to get in the thing. I feel someone brush my back and I force myself forward and get in the car. I scramble in, shut the door, put on the seatbelt and shove my hands in my lap. My breathing is a little wonky and I’m thankful that my Dad waits ‘til I give him the OK to get going. The car starts so I open my sketchpad and just start making marks. I can feel myself start to fall asleep so I just let go.
I open my eyes and it takes me a second to realize I’m still in the car. Then I make a big mistake: I look out the window. We go through an intersection and I see the headlights facing me. I immediately turn away, freeze up and start to have trouble breathing. I can hear somebody talking frantically and I feel the car swerving to the left. My panic rises even more. The car stops and I tear off my seatbelt and bolt from the car. I stand on the curb just trying to calm myself. I just keep thinking I’m going to be fine. I’m going to be fine. I just need to get back in and make it home. I have to make it home. I need to get back in the car but I really don’t want to get back in the car. Get back in the car. Get back in the car. Get. Back. In. The. Car. I force myself to get back in the car, shut the door and put on my seatbelt. My breathing hasn’t calmed much but I just put my head in my hand and deal with it. The car starts moving again and I don’t breathe for a second.
“We’re almost home son. It’ll only be another five minutes.” I whistle to acknowledge my Dad’s comment. The minutes drag and by the time I feel the car stop, I’m shaking. I get out of the car and just breathe for a second. I go to help get the bags out of the car. I feel three hands on my back and know that I have plenty of support. That thought gives me great comfort.