Chapter Text
PROLOGUE: THE FALLING
He knows Charlie didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean what he said, but when the muted puttering of rain becomes a clear ring in his ears, and when he feels his legs move fast and his tears run down faster, he knows it’s over. The burning in his legs intensified from running, and the heaviness of his hoodie made itself more prominent from getting soaked in the rain. Nick avoids his mom’s concerned calls, heading straight to his room to bury himself in the dark blue sheets, the ones Charlie’s parents gave him for Christmas last year. There’s a bitterness in his stomach and another in his chest as he tries to convince himself he should go back, that he should talk to Charlie, but his brain tells him it was inevitable, that things were going too well, that it was bound to happen. “It’s better to stop this now than later since you’re so adamant about leaving me here.” The words burn in his head as he remembers the piercing feeling of Charlie’s words. He remembers the desperation when he tries to convince Charlie they would be alright, that the other could eventually join him in uni. “I think you should go, Nick.” The knife twists and turns near his heart, and he feels the tears flow once more.
Nick spends the next two weeks trying to contact Charlie, often finding himself left on seen or turned away by Charlie’s parents, telling him Charlie was having a nap and that he should probably leave and return another day. He returns every day until the day he’s supposed to leave arrives; the same excuse greets him in the form of Julio. He pretends not to hear the laughter in Oliver’s tinny voice. “Charlie, you’re not playing fair,” another voice says, one he recognises as Tori. Julio offers him a sad smile, mouthing a ‘sorry’ as he closes the door. And Nick is suddenly hit with the thought that Charlie might choose to move on from him instead of trying to fix it like they always do. His shoulders sag as he walks away from the home that has welcomed him with open arms for the last two years. The piercing feelings return to his chest when he walks further from its brick-covered front; the asphalt pavement urges him to turn around. But when Sarah calls him, telling him it’s time to go, he knows it is time for him to put his life here to rest; when they drive away, he swears he sees Charlie standing on the doorstep, the hopeless look on the other’s face burns in his mind. The idea of Charlie watching him drive away solidifies when his mom looks at him with a worried expression; Nick silently thanks her for saying nothing.
“Are you going to be alright?” Sarah asks him once they’ve settled into his dorm room. Alright, Nick almost scoffs at the word, the metaphorical knife in his chest twisting another time. He nods anyway, not wanting to create a fuss with his mom. He barely registers when his mom hugs him goodbye, and he doesn’t remember anything she said before she leaves him for the term. Nick silently curses and thanks his past self for booking a single room. The intention of moving in with Charlie next year seems further than ever, and he isn’t quite ready to accept that he may never be able to share this room with Charlie. The rest of the day blurs altogether. He roams the campus all day, barely giving himself any time to cope with the fact that Charlie is two-hundred miles away from him; Charlie is back at home with the people that love him, and he’s here, alone for the first time in two years.
Going back to his dorm is immediately too much for him. The photos of him and Charlie hang beside his bed; he was unwilling to take them down despite the circumstance. For the first time that day, he feels himself break. Nick takes one of the earlier photos from his wall and holds it close to his chest; it was one of their earliest photos, the one taken on the beach for their first date alone. The piercing ache in his chest gradually turns numb as the world darkens around him.