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He wanders the empty streets.
It’s much too late to be out. Technically, it’s curfew and he could be given a citation for his infraction. Or his family could get an infraction. But despite other people having the possibility of getting hurt, he can’t bring himself to drag his feet back.
Jack combs his fingers through his short hair. He fiddles with the strings of his hoodie and sighs, gazing up at the sky.
Or, the artificial sky. If he squints hard enough, he can see the shiny glass dome encasing the whole drift, the stars glistening, as all the lights on the street have shut off. They’re beautiful at this time of night.
His heart clenches. Only one other person knows the beauty of the stars at this hour. And this person isn’t here.
He won’t ever be again.
Jack tries to pull air into his lungs, tries to pull the stupid artificially made oxygen into his weak, fragile body. He’s so fragile, inside and out. For all the technology in the world, and the universe, doctors can’t figure out what’s wrong with his lungs. Can’t figure out what’s preventing him from breathing like normal humans. Short spurts of air.
If he holds his breath long enough, he could die. It’s why he’s never been allowed to go swimming. Why he’s never been allowed to leave the drift.
God, he longs for someplace else.
Jack looks down at his watch, calculating the time, before swearing softly. He’s stupid to have his watch on him. Felix could locate him in a second. Anyone in Felix’s family could locate him in a second.
His parents could locate him in a second.
Mark could--
No. No.
He gasps. He breathes in, slowly, pulling as much in as he’s able. He fumbles for the inhaler in his pocket, before realizing he’s left it at home.
It’s not a big deal. It never helps anyway. He’s not asthmatic, he’s just--broken.
“You’re not broken. Just...a little tender, that’s all. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Jack’s eyes sting.
“Aw, hey now. Don’t cry. You’re not so hard to love, you know? You’re funny and one of the most handsome people I’ve ever met. Not to mention you’re brilliant. You’re not hard to love. You’re so easy to love.”
“Shut up,” he whispers, struggling to breathe. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”
“Shut up! Just--stop! Just stop! Just stop caring about me! This was a mistake!”
“SHUT UP!”
Clutching at his chest, Jack falls to his knees, gasping and trying to suck in air. Hot tears begin to well in his eyes, and with his free hand he rubs at them as hard as he can. The tears keep coming.
“Jack!”
He hears footsteps approach him. He doesn’t turn at first. Jack’s heart knows who he wants it to be, and who it isn’t. But he can’t help but hope. The hope lingers as he cranes his head to look at the oncoming figure.
Blue eyes stare at him, concerned.
Jack keeps crying as Felix places a hand on his shoulder. “Jack, there you are--Jesus Christ, do you know what could’ve happened to you?”
But--but--
Not brown. Not brown.