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Neil shoves some stray pencils and books off of his desk, and throws his belongings around in an angered disarray. Todd sat on his own bed, peering over in disbelief. He had never expected such a reaction from Neil, nothing as aggressive or intimidating. And having no reasoning behind it either, or more so none known to him. Neil sits down at his desk, pulling his chair back loudly as it scrapes against the linoleum flooring. He covers his forehead with his hands, as if to shield himself from Todd’s glare. He feels the judgement seep into his skin, even if it is not truly there.
“Neil..” Todd begins, but is quickly shut down by his accomplice.
“No Todd. It’s not fair- He can’t just-“ Neil stutters, his normal, conspicuous demeanour fading through time, and visible stress. Todd stands up, and nervously makes his path toward Neil. Neil goes silent, sensing the boys upcoming presence.
“What did he do?” Todd manages out a small smile of empathy, nothing too confronting, but only simply trying to comfort and understand Neil. His hand lands on his shoulder, rubbing it with his inner thumb. Todd never caught the act of consolation, but his mother was amazing at it. He always questioned why he couldn’t inherit the same capability.
“I’m not going to the play tomorrow night.” Neil bites his bottom lip, chewing the loose skin angrily. Todd doesn’t quite understand his statement, so he stays quiet. Neil looks over his shoulder to be met with a puzzled expression. His anger dissipates at Todd’s innocent conveyance, as if it were an off switch for any negative emotion that could possibly pass him by.
“My father said I couldn’t go,” Neil sighs deeply, watching Todd’s lip rub against the other in an anxious manner. There was no room for Todd to breathe over Neil’s intoxicating resentment. “He- he called me worthless, and single minded-“ Neil’s sentences grow delayed, with many pauses between choked tears. He looks down at the wooden desk, avoiding the other boys thoughts of him. He wiped his eyes sporadically, forcing himself not to cry.
Todd took his chair from the desk parallel to Neil’s, and scooted it beside him. He sat there in silence for many seconds, breathing in and out with Neil as if it were a known routine for them to calm down together. Todd inhales deeply, and for a moment, Neil looks at him with wide, hopeful eyes. The blonde haired boy had never truly known how to speak out about the panic coursing through him daily, the sinking feeling that caused many blockages in his own life. The only way he knew how to cope was to breathe, and breathe deep. And that’s exactly what he did for Neil.
“Breathe, we have all the time in the world to worry.” Todd states a little harshly, although the concept travels to Neil just fine. Neil nods and his tears seem to dry, leaving patchy marks down his face. Neil’s rhythm steadied, and with that, Todd smiled momentarily. He tapped the poor boys shoulder gently, with a quiet ‘Atta boy’, and a brief laugh to let out the tension. Neil reciprocated, wiping his eyes more softly. Todd took his chair and put it back under his desk, then returned to Neil’s side.
Todd kneeled beside the other, picking up pencils and placing them back in their holder which had also been in contact with the ground. Neil bent over to his side awkwardly, reaching from his chair to the books on the floor. After he finished rearranging the clutter he created, he silently moved over to the window sill, sat on it and peered outside for a while. Todd didn’t know what to say, or do. So, he got a notebook out of his desk drawer, and along with it came a stolen blue pen from Neil, whom gave it to him on the day of their greeting. He began scribbling out big words and poetic symbolism on the page until it made sense. Although, did it ever make sense? — He questioned. Keating seemed to think so.
Todd used to hate doing study, or work around others. It was never personal to any of them, frankly he just found it hard to focus when he was too distracted by the thoughts and glares of other eyes. Neil became tolerable after a while, then slowly he adapted to having Neil in his presence. Eventually it stopped bothering his ability to think.
A couple long minutes passed, Neil reminisced upon a script he will never have the opportunity to perform, and Todd is admiring him as he does so, discreetly. He bites the bullet and speaks up, breaking his longly stretched silence. “You aren’t any of those things.” Todd inspiringly counteracts Mr Perry’s statements.
“I know my words can’t, erm-“, Todd forgets his placement of words, yet he allows himself to be lost in thought for a moment as he felt comfortable enough to do so. “-Can’t change how you feel about what was said, but I do mean them.”
Neil turns his head slowly, his script lowering onto his lap. “It doesn’t matter. Fathers, I mean- sometimes they have to roughen you up a bit.” Neil laughs, looking over to Todd, trying to dismiss the internal conflict he desperately wants to flee from. Todd doesn’t react, or flinch. He’s seen his roommate do this before, and he knows it’s not his honest feelings.
“But Neil, fathers don’t..” Todd swallows, continuing with the lurking sensation of an unknown fear. “Fathers don’t do that.” He finishes, placing his pen on his notebook, laid messily on his desk set. Neil closes his lips tightly, turning back to the window.
“How would you know, Anderson.” His response is bitter, exactly what Todd feared. Todd’s eyes widen for a moment, he turns to face the wall in-front of his desk and shuts down, as if he were a defenceless turtle retracting into it’s shell. Neil regrets his choice of words, although speaks no further to fix them.
“You’re right, I don’t. But I know neither do you.” He spits out venom in a moment of vulnerability, shutting his eyes directly after the words leave his breath. He knows that would’ve dug like a knife, and he feels like taking said knife and doing it to himself. Every possible situation of abandonment runs laps inside his brain. Todd chokes on his own tongue.
Neil shakes his head in disbelief, again lapping around the dorm with his hand frustratedly placed on his head. “Todd, you’ve barely even lived!” He states, with each dig, comes another consequence. Yet another tally to the harsh impression of one another.
Todd swallows deeply, disregarding the argument. He looks down into his lap, thinking of something that could diffuse this situation. He doesn’t want to lose Neil too. “Neil, I’m not trying to assume anything about you, I just don’t want you-“
“No Todd. Save it. I don’t need this.” He turns to look back out the window once again, watching boys pass it by in the distance, others reading in the grass or playing ball. Todd shakes his head, refusing to let it go.
“Do you even need me?” Todd questions firmly. It lingers in the air like a bad smell, Neil’s inability to respond or even disagree is an answer in itself. Todd nods with a chuckle, and not one of happiness, one of restriction. An attempt to restrict his tears from leaving the space beneath his eyes.
It takes Neil several more desperately paced breaths to reply. “You can want someone, but not need to have them.” He spaces his answer out thoroughly, whispering just above a legible tone.
Todd had never immediately gotten verbal symbolism as fast as he had now. Something inside him lurched, vomiting out words as if they were the backbone he laid on to fall asleep at night. “I’m not your father, Neil. I’m not him.”
Neil gasps, as Todd’s head dips. There are no restraint to the words that spill. There was no going back now.
“I guess you’ve found your answer then, Anderson.” His tongue tasted of pungent poison, and Neil wanted it to sting. For someone who can hold so much love, and passion, his emotional distance burnt the skin from Todd’s nose.
A film of darkness covered the brown haired boys eyes, that glimmer in his pupil no longer shown. And Todd Anderson will carry that burden with him everywhere he goes. He knows it’s his fault, and he knows that if he could take it back, he would do anything in the world and more for his Neil.
But regardless, Todd remains silent. He stands from his desk abruptly, not willing to slam doors or throw objects, yet he leaves with no words palatable enough to openly express. Any sentence that forms inside his head is one of self deprecation and loathing.
He storms out the dorms, and to the open vast of the forest. The snow made it hard to run, so he chose to silently walk, his hands aching for stimulation yet there seemed to be nothing for them to hold. Tears never beckoned to fall, words never threatened to spill. He felt like a walking vessel of emptiness, violated by the one person who sought his potential. Even if he retaliated.
He takes a seat in the frost, his backside all cold and wet from it. His eyes poorly spectate the distance, the lake is frozen and the pier is covered in knee level snow. He tries to slow his thoughts down, breathing in deeply and out gently. His eyes close, shut with a sense of full body tranquility. There’s something divine about the cold, something so refreshing and beautiful. Todd allowed the frost to fill his lungs, undoubtedly it satisfies him. Until he reminds himself of why the cold continues to bite his skin.
His own hands seem to cut deep, but something past surface level appeared to cut deeper. As if his entire inner soul began to detach from the shell of flesh that surrounded it. He gags, and gags again. His body goes into overdrive, vomiting alone and all over the soft snow. There seemed to be no escape to Todd’s inner turmoil, no matter how desperately he tried to do so.