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"You're coming too, right?" asks Neil while he's searching for something in his bag, about to leave for tonight's meeting.
"Uh, no, actually. I, um, don't feel very good," answers Todd from the bed he's sitting on, hoping it sounds at least a little convincing.
Neil stops his movements and looks at Todd, eyebrows furrowed in concern and he just stares at him for a few seconds, like he's contemplating something.
"Oh. Are you alright? Do you want me to stay in with you?" says Neil and his voice is softer than usually, like it always is when he's talking to Todd.
Todd feels a twist in his stomach as he hears the words. His breathing gets a little shallow, because the way Neil says it just sounds so caring and genuine, like he would actually be willing to spend the evening here, their small boring room doing nothing with Todd, instead of the cave reading poems with his actual friends, if he just asked him to.
But he can't let Neil do that. Neil's been talking about this meeting for days, exited about a poem he wrote. He kept mentioning it to Todd the whole week — how he can't wait to show it to them, how proud he is of himself for managing to finally write something on his own, how he's actually kind of nervous to read it out loud, because he put too much of himself into it.
And Todd feels absolutely terrible. He wants to be there, wants to hear Neil recite his poem and tell him how good it is, because there is no way that it is anything other than that. But he just can't come tonight.
There is not even a particular reason why, which only makes Todd more frustrated with himself. He's just just been so overwhelmed by everything lately and the thought of spending the night with so many people is simply too much. He just can't handle it right now. Even if it means missing out on Neil's performance.
Todd's sure it's not a big deal to Neil. His absence doesn't change anything. It may even go completely unnoticed, since he never actually talks.
"No! I m-mean you, uh, you should go. I'm gonna be fine," says Todd with a shaky voice, hoping that Neil won't read to much into it, since Todd sounds like this most of the time anyway.
"It's really no problem, Todd. I can miss one night. I'm sick of Knox's lovesick outbursts anyway," answers Neil with a gentle smile on his lips and Todd nearly gives in, but the memory of Neil talking about his poem with such excitement thankfully stops him from being so selfish.
"I'm okay, Neil. I'm probably just gonna sleep or s-something. You don't have to like, uh, worry about me. Just — just go, alright?" murmurs Todd, and it's too late when he realizes that the words sound a little harsh, like he doesn't want Neil here, even though he desperately wishes he would stay. But he just can't take this away from Neil. Especially not for such pitiful reasons.
Neil is still looking at him, question in his eyes, and for a moment, it occurs to Todd that he looks a little hurt, but before he can dwell on what that means, Neil just shrugs and gets up, not even bothering to get what he was searching for.
"Suit yourself then," replies Neil and his tone is a little off, but then his eyes meet Todd's again and he looks fine, like nothing is bothering him, and although Todd just caught a glimpse of something that says otherwise, he almost believes him. Almost.
Todd wants to say something, ask Neil what's wrong, like he always asks Todd. Even though he has no idea how to phrase it, Todd wants to at least try to offer him the same care Neil always offers him.
But before he even gets the chance to open his mouth, Neil is at the door, ready to leave.
"Hope you feel better," adds Neil and throws him one last smile, before he walks out and slowly shuts the door, trying to make as little noise as possible.
The room is suddenly filled with silence, but instead of the usual comfort it brings Todd, he just feels empty.
Todd lets out a quiet huff and puts the book that sits in his lap aside. He doesn't even bother to put a bookmark in it — he wasn't reading it anyway.
There's a pile of homework on his desk, but he just can't force himself to really care about that right now. Todd thinks about taking his notebook out, maybe writing down a poem or two, but his bag is too far away and getting up seems impossible, even though he knows it would help him clear his mind a little.
So instead, he remains where he is and drowns in his own misery. It's pathetic, really. Todd wishes he wasn't so fragile all the time. Something as simple as spending time with their friends should be easy and fun and not difficult and terrifying.
Todd doesn't even know if he can consider the rest of the guys his friends and not just Neil's friends, since he's not exactly sure what they actually think of him.
His mind keeps going back to Neil, like it always does, no matter what Todd's doing or how much he wants to stop it, cursing himself for being so dependent on him.
Neil has been nothing but kind — offering him to join them, whatever the occasion is, constantly checking if he is okay, when he notices that Todd it even more quiet than normally, treating him like a friend, even though all Todd has to offer sometimes is a blank stare and a shy smile.
When Todd walks alone behind the group and starts drifting away, wondering if they would even notice if they lost him, Neil always appears right next to him, warm smile on his face and walks with him at the back. He usually carries the conversation by himself, since Todd gets exceptionally nervous when they all hang out together. But Todd is content just listening to Neil, who doesn't seem to mind his silence, excitingly rambling about his upcoming play, complaining about homework or telling him all sorts of stories from their previous years at Welton that Todd hasn't heard yet.
Neil often looks at him, really looks at him, studying every detail of Todd's face, until Todd just can't take it anymore and breaks a little under the intensity of his gaze, looking away with trembling hands and a blush spread across his cheeks.
Neil never forces him to speak. Never asks him why he doesn't. He's just there.
Neil is his favorite person in the world. Todd just wishes he was his too.
The thing is — Neil is incredibly nice to everyone. He practically lives for other people. Which is something that often worries Todd, because seeing Neil offer every piece of himself to others makes him scared that one day, Neil might not have anything left.
It terrifies him how easily Neil gives, even though most don't even notice it. But Todd does.
Which is also part of the reason why he doesn't want to let Neil in. He doesn't want his stupid problems to drain Neil out, until he loses the last remnants of his spark. He tries to help Neil too, of course he does, but has never been exactly good when it comes emotional support. His attempts at cheering Neil up usually just consist of gentle smiles, brewed tea or more quiet, when he senses that silence is what Neil needs. It feels pathetic, considering everything Neil does for him and Todd really wishes he knew better how to actually return the favor.
Sometimes, Todd lets himself get absorbed by the lie. He lets himself believe that he really is special to Neil, that he doesn't do this just because Todd is his shy roommate incapable of not screwing up any minor social interaction without his help. That it is more than just pity, that Neil actually cares for Todd.
But then, in moments like this, he knows that he's not. And he feels terrible for wanting more, for being so selfish, for wanting Neil all to himself, especially since this is one of the very few times when Neil actually does what he wants, instead of just taking care of everyone's needs but his own.
Todd shifts a little on the bed. He realizes that he started crying, but since Neil is gone and no one would come here at this hour, Todd doesn't bother with wiping his tears, knowing it's pointless since more will fall anyway.
He looks over at Neil's empty bed. His sheets are crumpled, left untouched since Neil woke up in the morning. He never makes his bed — which is something Todd finds strange, because Neil is not a messy person. His clothes are always folded, books neatly stacked on his desk, none of his things laying on the floor. It's like he leaves it like that on purpose. Todd likes it, in a weird way. It's makes their room feel safe, cozy, like there is a place for imperfection, which is something that is not allowed anywhere else at Welton.
The silence is broken by a faint sound, and for a moment, Todd thinks he might be imagining it, but then it gets louder, leaving no doubt that someone is walking down the hall.
The footsteps get closer and it has to be Neil, since no one else would be out at this time, not even the professors, as the last check-in was hours ago.
Todd feels his heart beating in his chest. He lifts his hands to his face and quickly wipes his eyes, although he's not so sure if it even does anything to make him look less distressed. He contemplates pretending to be asleep, but before he can even begin to move, the door opens and Neil stumbles inside.
The moment Neil walks in and spots Todd, his face instantly drops. He stops in his tracks and just stares at him, frozen in place.
And Todd has no idea what to do. Neil is still not saying anything, which is unusual for him, and the silence is just so loud, it's almost too much to bear.
"S-sorry, um, did — did you, uh, forget s-something?" Todd manages to get out and he is almost surprised that he is even able to speak in such state. It's kind of dark in the room, so Todd clings to the idea that maybe, Neil can't see his face well enough to be able to tell anything. But judging by the way Neil's just standing there, barely moving, it's probably too late.
"What? No. I, uh, I just —" mumbles Neil and it's almost funny, because the way he stumbles over his words is so unlike him, as he normally sounds like a great speaker, always carefully choosing the right words.
"Jesus, Todd. Are you — are you crying?" continues Neil and he sounds so shocked and kind of shaken, as if he's witnessing some immense tragedy.
Todd gulps and looks away, desperately trying to fight the tears that start forming in his eyes again. Guilt settles in his stomach. He just ruined Neil's night — by his stupid, unimportant pity party.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"It's — it's no-nothing, Neil, r-really. I'm — I'm fine," blurts out Todd in response, trying to hide the evident anxiety that captured his throat.
He almost laughs at how pathetic that sounds. It's such an obvious lie and Neil probably knows that, which only makes the guilt worse.
"Oh Todd…" whispers Neil in a low voice.
And that's all it takes. Todd breaks down again, tears rolling down his cheeks, quiet sniffle escaping his lips, shame spreading through his whole body as he falls apart in front of Neil.
Suddenly, Neil is beside him, wrapping him in his arms, gently stroking his hair as Todd cries even harder. And Todd wants to scream at him to let go of him, to stop caring so much, because it's not fair of him to take so much from Neil, while not being able to give him the same.
But he's just to weak right now. So instead, he lets Neil hold him, lets him take some of his pain away, even though he knows he shouldn't, because he hasn't done anything for Neil to deserve such kindness from him. Todd mentally curses himself for being so greedy, while leaning into Neil's chest, to be even closer, to take even more.
"I'm s-so —" Todd attempts to apologize, but Neil cuts him off.
"You have nothing to apologize for, Todd. It's okay," whispers Neil carefully, so close to his ear, it sends a shiver down Todd's spine. His voice is so gentle and Todd almost believes it, but the shame and guilt is still churning in his stomach, it feels like he might throw up.
And Todd has to say something, before Neil starts asking him questions.
"Why — why did y-you, uh, come b-back?" murmurs Todd while forcing his body to move away from Neil's embrace, wiping the tears that didn't soak into Neil's sweater
And he really hopes that Neil won't press it, won't demand an explanation, won't force him to talk about it, because Todd has no idea what he would say.
Neil does none of that. He just smiles and with that sweet voice says: "I wanted to show you my poem, remember?"
And Todd kind of wants to cry again.
Because Neil gets it. He lets Todd change the topic, lets him take a step back to calm down, because he knows that it's just too much for Todd.
Neil's arm is still holding his shoulder, as if he's afraid that if he pulled it away, Todd might break into pieces, he won't be able to put back together.
"O-okay," mumbles Todd, still a little out of it. He doesn't understand why would Neil want to show it to him now, but he's happy for the distraction.
Neil throws him another gentle smile. His eyes are still filled with concern, but he doesn't address Todd's tears again. And Todd is so grateful, he almost dares to touch the hand on his shoulder, to show Neil how much he appreciates it. But he isn't sure if Neil wants that, so he keeps his hands in his lap and just attempts to smile back.
Neil slowly takes his hand off, but before it leaves his shoulder, Neil lightly presses his knee against Todd's, as if he was afraid that if they stop touching, Todd might disappear.
Neil reaches for the bag he left by the bed and pulls out a folded piece of paper. It must be the poem — which means he didn't take it to the meeting with him. Todd gets a little confused, but he is too tired to ask, so he just remains quiet and waits for Neil to start.
Neil clears his throat and Todd realizes he looks nervous, something he thought was impossible for him. He unfolds the paper and tilts it a little, as if he doesn't want Todd to see. For a couple of seconds, he just stares at it, not saying anything. Todd gathers up all the small pieces of courage he somewhat has left in him and presses his leg closer against Neil's, just a little, so it isn't clear that he's doing it on purpose. Todd can feel Neil's body relaxing at the touch, not fully, but it seems to be enough for him to calm down, at least a bit.
Neil shakily exhales, then slowly takes a breath again and starts reading:
"Silence full of spirit,
let me look under the hood,
allow me to hear it,
tell me more than words could.
"To you, on all fours I crawl,
take each second of my time,
treasure guarded by a wall,
I desperately try to climb.
"In the rare moments I get to see,
I die a little, blinded by the wonder inside,
bundles of roots hidden underneath a tree,
the tangled knot finally untied."
For a brief moment, Todd almost forgets where he is.
He stares at Neil, eyes wide, and he must be reading this wrong because there is simply no way. He's probably just hearing what he wants to hear, twisting the words so they fit his silly fantasies.
It must be about someone else, or maybe he's not even talking about a person. It can be about literally anything — poetry can be very abstract, Todd knows that better that anyone, but he just can't get out of his mind that maybe, he understands.
"So, um… what do you think?" whispers Neil.
"It's — it's g-good. Really good," mumbles Todd, not knowing what to say.
He's trying to comprehend the words, searching for all possible interpretations that would explain what Neil actually meant, before he completely loses sanity over some illusion he made up. Todd feels his heart pounding in his chest, the room is suddenly too hot, his clothes stick to his body in an uncomfortable way and something has to happen, clarify the meaning of those words, otherwise Todd might explode.
"Todd…" lets out Neil in a hushed tone, still unable to look him in the eyes.
Todd may be bad with social cues, but he isn't stupid.
And he realizes that he needs to know for certain right now, make sure that it's real, that he isn't going crazy, that the signs are actually there, and it's not all just in his head.
"Is it — is it about…"
The words get stuck in his throat, as he still doesn't fully allow himself to believe his foolish mind. Because if Todd is wrong about this, it might easily be the most embarrassing moment of his life.
But he can't think of any other explanation, and if it means what he thinks it means, he has to hear it from Neil right away.
Carpe diem or whatever.
"Is it about m-me?" mumbles Todd quietly.
"What do you think, silly?" whispers Neil, his shaking voice as he speaks. He's still starting at the paper in his hands, avoiding Todd's eyes,
Todd is replaying all the phrases in his head again, the depth of them and he has a hard time believing that Neil actually sees him like that, but the words are right there, just a few inches from him, in Neil's hands. And even thought Todd still can't wrap his head around it, million questions circling in his brain, he realizes that he has to do something, show Neil that he cares too, before the chance slips through his fingers.
"I'm in love with you," blurts out Todd without thinking.
As soon as the words leave his mouth, Neil finally looks at him, wide-eyed, and for a moment, Todd thinks he made a terrible, unforgettable mistake that he can't take back. But then, Neil is smiling again, the tension in his shoulders disappears and he's staring at him, his eyes studying Todd's face, as if he's unable to process what he just said.
Todd, holding onto this new sense of bravery that Neil somehow managed to evoke in him, slowly raises his shaky hand from his lap and puts it over Neil's. Neil's smile gets even wider and it seems that he's snapping out of the trance Todd accidentally put him in. Neil gently takes the hand that's laying over his and interlaces their fingers together.
"I'm in love you too, Todd. But you know that already," says Neil and squeezes his hand, as if he's also trying to confirm for himself that this is real, that Todd is right there next to him.
And Todd is absolutely out of it. Suddenly, all the suppressed desires regarding Neil are coming to the surface. He wants to pull Neil closer, run his fingers through Neil's hair, touch his face, his arms, his chest, literally everywhere Neil lets him, hold him, kiss him, give Neil the care he deserves, show him all the love Todd has for him.
Todd doesn't do any of that. Because even though he feels absolutely euphoric right now, it's also all too new, a completely unknown territory and incredibly scary.
So instead, he just moves a little closer to Neil and squeezes his hand back, trying to give Neil at least a little bit, because giving him all of it at once is something Todd just can't do, although he desperately wants to.
And Neil just takes it, leaning into Todd, looking at him with those doe brown eyes and gentle smile on his lips, as if it was enough, even though he should be getting so much more.
But he looks happy, truly happy, which is something that is rare for Neil, although he's always trying to convince everyone otherwise. Like Todd just being there makes everything okay.
So maybe, this is enough for now.