He is right there.
Sitting against a painted wall, head in his hands. Fingers weave through the blond strands, holding on as everything spirals out of control.
And I'm there, sitting across from him. Willing him to look up and see me.
I connect my hands beneath my thighs, leaning forward in anticipation. I'm here. I'm here for you. Just look up.
He sighs heavily, shoulders drooping as if the weight of the world is crushing him.
His head comes up, thumping against the wall. His gaze is pinned on me, devoid of any emotion. As if he's staring straight through me.
I shift, moving to my knees as I reach out for him. Lean on me. Let me help.
Abruptly, he's pushed himself up, standing in anger. I quickly get to me feet, tilting my head slightly to see his eyes.
His eyes are slanted in weariness, in defeat. Unable to take the anguish and pain vibrating his entire frame, I reach out.
On my tiptoes, I slip my arm beneath his, laying my hand against his strained shoulder blade. My other arm comes up, cradling his head in my neck. The slight puff of breath is enough to shatter my heart.
For a split second, we embrace.
It's all over too quickly though.
I fall through him, catching myself against the wall. Witnessing the war raging within takes my breath and elicits a prickling of tears.
He turns slightly, reaching back to draw me to him. I shimmer, flickering out of reality.
His hand touches the bare wall.