Starless (1/2)
Title: Starless
Pairing: Jongtae, 2min
Genre: Twoshot - Romance, Angst, Abuse, Drugs
Rating: R
Words: 2573
Summary: Taemin looks out his window; longing to be able to see the stars.
A/N: This... might be confusing. I hope you enjoy. It was really different and difficult for me to write. :3
It was his favorite place to be.
It didn't hold any of his memories, it wasn't comfortable- no. It was trashed, foggy; thick with the smell of funk and a heavy longing in the air. Maybe it was the weeks’ worth of dirty laundry and rotting to-go boxes strewn around the floor, or the dirt collecting in the cracks in the concrete walls, even old blanket Jonghyun had kept in the back of his truck for too long.
It was a disgusting, large piece of crudely sewn fabric that had kept him warm on many of these kinds of nights. Starless nights when he was alone, dark, curled up on the slowly deflating air mattress they had shoved up against the wall. He bunched it up underneath his chin, not wanting to smell the shame on it, the amount of lies it told, the escapades and scandals the blanket had been on in its time in Jonghyun's car- some that he had participated in, some that he had not. It was like sleeping with the enemy, but he had to. There wasn't much he could do but sleep. He knew Jonghyun wasn't coming back until... most likely much later than it already was.
He could stare out the window. He loved that window. It was bordering morning now- the clouds painted in long smoky grey strokes on a lightening indigo canvas. But the view was muddled- he himself unable to appreciate the full beauty of the world outside this place; this room, this cellar, this cave. An oppressive cage he couldn't escape from- he didn't want to escape from. His grip on the blanket tightened.
As long as he had this much.
A room, a bed, a lover- a warmth in the form of lies he slept with every night.
He liked it.
.
"You're a fucking mess."
He knew.
Taemin stayed silent and stared back at the man in front of him, but he couldn't bring himself to feel upset, or bothered. He was slumped against the wall, a knee propped up and supporting an arm that was dangling a bottle of some sort of poison in it. He watched it- watched it as the liquid sloshed around in the bottom of the tinted glass, not giving a hint to the actual color of the death inside. It slid down the sides and past the rim of the bottle as it was thrown backwards and upside down into the man's mouth. Large brown eyes stared back at the blonde, watching him back through hooded lids.
He licked his lips, characteristically baring his lower teeth when his mouth hung open.
"Do you want some?" Jonghyun asked, beckoning slightly with his rugged, worn out voice.
Taemin crawled forward on his hands and knees, careful to avoid any of the soiled garments on the floor as he eagerly made his way to the man. He could smell what it was on his breath; he could taste it on Jonghyun's lips as they came together in a languid caress, all open mouthed and nothing really much more than a drag of soft flesh between the others. Thick fingers tangled themselves in blond hair, but Taemin pulled back.
Jonghyun watched as the boy gripped the neck of the bottle with delicate hands, and a pang of guilt rang through him; but he was much too far gone- much too drunk to care or remember later as the blonde downed some of his drink.
He could tell by the look on Taemin's face that the alcohol burned his throat, but for some twisted reason, the boy took another swig.
Jonghyun pulled the drink away and lowered the boy to the ground, supporting himself above him so they could kiss again.
.
"Bring me a star."
Jonghyun didn't bother looking back from his task at hand- fixing his dyed brown hair in the mirror they shared. The room didn't have much, except for a dresser that balanced a broken antenna-style television and radio, a couple of boxes to act as desks and tables, small bathroom off the side with an equally small tub and sink, and of course- Taemin's favorite- the window. The mirror doubled as a medicine cabinet in their bathroom, the constant clack of it opening and closing the only clue to Taemin as to what Jonghyun was doing in the bathroom.
Taemin stated at the ceiling, wishing it was nighttime. Jonghyun always left during the day.
"I asked you what you wanted to fucking eat, so cut the shit and tell me. I don't fucking have time for this." came the growl.
There was a jingle of keys, and Jonghyun stepped out of the restroom expectantly pissed off as Taemin stared. He was clean shaven, hair styled nicely and spiked just the way the blonde liked it. He didn't respond, knowing that his boyfriend was only growing more impatient with him.
He wasn't really hungry. He didn't need food. He wanted more.
"I want the stars."
The slam of the door was his answer.
.
They were dancing, bodies melding together in a blend of sweat and flesh as they ground on each other, felt each other, breathed the same air.
Taemin loved to go clubbing- it was the only thing he liked to do when he wasn't vegetating in their room. He loved the way his body felt against Jonghyun's like this, he loved the way Jonghyun would press them together and buck upwards, the feeling of the hardness in the too-tight pants driving the blonde crazy. Jonghyun was a rough, passionate lover, and during late nights like this all was forgiven between the two- an incredible amount of sexual tension amounting between them and exploding like a burst of fireworks- sparks and noise and heat and all.
He was begging for it.
His lips dragged down the teen's neck, mouthing words that Taemin couldn't understand- it didn't make sense, nothing ever made sense when they were like this. Even there were so many other beings around them, all swaying and bouncing to the drumming music, it was like everything was white, everything was only them.
"Do you want the usual?" The husky voice urged, his hands riding up Taemin's sides and back. Muscles contracted in pleasure, the teenager struggled to nod, his surroundings becoming blurred and unfocused.
Was that a pill?
"Take another." he whispered.
.
White walls, white boards, hard floors- it was just like his room, only cleaner.
But he didn't like it here, and no one liked it when he was here.
Everyone was uniform, pencils clacking in tandem with each other's as they worked hard on their assignments, but Taemin didn't care.
It was a spur of the moment decision, and the professor even had the gall to looked surprised for once when he walked in, uniformless and blonde hair behold.
He hated it here. He hated the atmosphere; he hated how much people there were. They all pretended to care, false, crooked smiling faces that greeted him in the mornings, but behind closed doors they were faceless silhouettes, all speaking and criticizing him behind his back, he could tell. The thought made his stomach churn.
He wasn't a bad child.
He glanced out the window, feeling his heart break little by little. It wasn't the same window, but it painted a clearer picture- one that wasn't diluted with grime and smoke- it was one he had once been a part of; bright and clear, yet fleeting like his youth. It was too fast. It went by too fast.
Everyday something more was expected and everyday nothing got done. The pressure of being young.
He chose to escape it.
Unbeknownst to him, another teen wasn't paying attention to the lesson at hand. He opted to study to the blonde, wide eyes filled with something akin to worry and promise; but even if Taemin had seen, he wouldn't have been able to understand.
.
The room was spinning- no- Jonghyun was spinning.
The room was still. But it was dark. Was it always this dark?
The blonde felt a hand on his neck, pulling him far too forward than he felt comfortable with. He was going to fall straight through the ground if the hand pulled him any more forward. He struggled, trying to push the pressure back, but two hands were suddenly on his cheeks, they were cold, and he found himself looking into two big brown eyes.
"Taemin, you're falling." they whispered.
No, You're making me fall.
Taemin let himself be lowered to the bed, immediately reaching out for something to hold, something to clutch, something close to reality. He was handed a pillow- he thinks. Maybe it wasn't a pillow. Maybe it was that atrocious blanket. It didn't matter. He dung his nails into in the cushion and hugged it close, and he could smell it.
He could smell the lies, the affairs- but at the moment, it was life; it was real. Jonghyun took another deep breath of the poison in the room, the smoke filling his lungs and igniting sparks and endorphins throughout his brain and body. Taemin was wide-eyed and bushy tailed, observing the scene carefully, as if it could not process it fast enough the first time.
He was filled with the poison too.
It wasn't liquid poison, but he could feel it doing things to him. Things like the pills did and the alcohol did.
He turned over quickly, opting to look out his favorite window. The window was perfect. It was tempting. Taemin wanted to touch it, but it was swirling with colors- colors of different sorts and from all different ends of the spectrum. It was beautiful. It made shapes, refracted itself like a kaleidoscope and teased the blonde with its singing, its freedom and brightness.
Jonghyun reached out and flipped Taemin over, and the window went black again.
There were no stars, Taemin thought, eyelids fluttering as he breathed in the drug again.
.
"What is your fucking problem?!"
Taemin put his hands to his ears, trying to block out the venom the brunette was spitting at him.
"You're a little piece of shit; you know that, don't you?"
He bit his lip, settling himself in the corner their air mattress was in, it was just recently reflated; scrap pieces of duct tape holding the worn rubber together- fragile. Jonghyun was shouting at him again, and even through his fingers in his ears, his palms around the curves of the shell shaped appendages, he could still hear him.
"Listen to me!" He grabbed at the teen's wrists, yanking them fiercely out of their place. Taemin yelled, trying to kick his way out of the body that was slowing closing in his smaller one, shadows enveloping the negative space between them, and he cried. He cried at the putrid smell of alcohol he should have been used to by now, he cried at the way it didn't hide the smell of perfume all over Jonghyun's clothes.
It smelled like the blanket- and he didn't want to smell it.
He hated that blanket.
.
Taemin went to school the next day to avoid his boyfriend. He only really went when things like the night before occurred. Even the overly sterilized and sickeningly bright detention center was better than dealing with Jonghyun after a bad night.
The student watched him again with his knowing eyes, but it wasn't the dirt on his clothes that even still, were out of uniform, it wasn't the unruly blonde hair or the quiet, I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude, or even the telltale smell of pot that that caught his attention. That was what everyone noticed, what everyone judged him for.
It was the bags under his lack luster eyes, it was the cut on his swollen lip, it was the bruises on his wrist that were barely covered by the too-large button up he was wearing. It was the way he looked so crushed.
After class, he took a leap of faith.
His hand landed on something thin and bony, and he could feel the way the teen tensed up underneath him.
"I'm Choi Minho."
Minho was taken aback by the way the younger boy looked at him. His petal pink lips parted in shock, his pupils dilated and consuming the breathtaking brown- it was so dark, so full. He blinked, once, twice.
"Taemin." The boy breathed.
.
He came back drunk again.
The blonde was expecting it, but he was scared- he knew what was going to happen. He had been gone all day. This always happened. He braced himself emotionally, but he couldn't stop the overwhelming feeling of bile rising in his throat- a heaviness consuming him and making it so that he couldn't breathe.
Or maybe that was just Jonghyun's hand around his neck.
Jonghyun's lips attacked his, delving deep into the warm cavern with his tongue. He whined, the cut on his lip stung from the rough pressure. He was tired; he didn't want any of this.
Thin fingers wrapped around the older man's bicep, taunting him with the strength hidden underneath the flimsy material of the shirt. It was heavy, tensed, and Taemin knew he couldn't fight back. It wouldn't work that way. The prey always fell victim to the wolf. Jonghyun snarled, pulling back and slapping the teen clean across the face.
White flashed behind Taemin's eyes, a sharp ringing in his ears as he stumbled backwards from the impact. He could feel it, the little droplets of moisture accumulating on his cheek, the taste of iron filling his mouth and senses. The split in his lip had reopened, and the tears falling in the wound were stinging worse than needles.
His jaw was captured between strong, tanned fingers, a thumb pressing into his rapidly swelling cheek.
"What a dirty slut."
His nails dug into Taemin's flesh, drawing more blood.
"You're a fucking mess,"
His mouth was back on his face, possessive; dark.
"Messes like you need to be cleaned up."
Taemin could barely feel it.
.
"I brought you stars, Taemin."
The blonde refused to turn over, finding comfort in his tangible enemy. It was warmth. It was a kind of warmth, at least. Sweet words were being whispered to him, but he couldn't hear any of them.
It was like when they were at the club. Words being spoken into his skin.
It was like when they were high. Words not being registered.
He felt broken. Used. He always did. But he came back. Back to the lies. Back to the pain.
Jonghyun reached over, pulling on the strings that held ragged curtains in place. Taemin watched, his heart crumbling as his escape was shut off. He couldn't see his window. It was just dark.
But he could see the stars.
The man crawled into bed with him, leaning up against the wall in order to pull the younger boy's head in his lap. He stroked the silky soft strands of hair lovingly, massaging his scalp- the very scalp he had viciously tugged at earlier. Their hands clasped together, Jonghyun pulled Taemin's to his mouth- the same mouth that bit and spat horrid words at the boy-, kissing the back softly, gently, and then pulling their hands further up, pointing to the ceiling.
There were stars plastered all over the crumbly ceiling, the type that glow in the dark and adolecents have in their room when they're little and afraid of the unknown. They were softly shining a blue hue, bathing the room in the mild light.
"Can you see them?"
His voice is so lovely.
"I bought them for you."
Taemin's eyes watered, snuggling into the warm body under him.
It was his favorite place to be.
A/N 2: Yeah I know it doesn't make sense. ;n; I'm sorry.
Pairing: Jongtae, 2min
Genre: Twoshot - Romance, Angst, Abuse, Drugs
Rating: R
Words: 2573
Summary: Taemin looks out his window; longing to be able to see the stars.
A/N: This... might be confusing. I hope you enjoy. It was really different and difficult for me to write. :3
It was his favorite place to be.
It didn't hold any of his memories, it wasn't comfortable- no. It was trashed, foggy; thick with the smell of funk and a heavy longing in the air. Maybe it was the weeks’ worth of dirty laundry and rotting to-go boxes strewn around the floor, or the dirt collecting in the cracks in the concrete walls, even old blanket Jonghyun had kept in the back of his truck for too long.
It was a disgusting, large piece of crudely sewn fabric that had kept him warm on many of these kinds of nights. Starless nights when he was alone, dark, curled up on the slowly deflating air mattress they had shoved up against the wall. He bunched it up underneath his chin, not wanting to smell the shame on it, the amount of lies it told, the escapades and scandals the blanket had been on in its time in Jonghyun's car- some that he had participated in, some that he had not. It was like sleeping with the enemy, but he had to. There wasn't much he could do but sleep. He knew Jonghyun wasn't coming back until... most likely much later than it already was.
He could stare out the window. He loved that window. It was bordering morning now- the clouds painted in long smoky grey strokes on a lightening indigo canvas. But the view was muddled- he himself unable to appreciate the full beauty of the world outside this place; this room, this cellar, this cave. An oppressive cage he couldn't escape from- he didn't want to escape from. His grip on the blanket tightened.
As long as he had this much.
A room, a bed, a lover- a warmth in the form of lies he slept with every night.
He liked it.
.
"You're a fucking mess."
He knew.
Taemin stayed silent and stared back at the man in front of him, but he couldn't bring himself to feel upset, or bothered. He was slumped against the wall, a knee propped up and supporting an arm that was dangling a bottle of some sort of poison in it. He watched it- watched it as the liquid sloshed around in the bottom of the tinted glass, not giving a hint to the actual color of the death inside. It slid down the sides and past the rim of the bottle as it was thrown backwards and upside down into the man's mouth. Large brown eyes stared back at the blonde, watching him back through hooded lids.
He licked his lips, characteristically baring his lower teeth when his mouth hung open.
"Do you want some?" Jonghyun asked, beckoning slightly with his rugged, worn out voice.
Taemin crawled forward on his hands and knees, careful to avoid any of the soiled garments on the floor as he eagerly made his way to the man. He could smell what it was on his breath; he could taste it on Jonghyun's lips as they came together in a languid caress, all open mouthed and nothing really much more than a drag of soft flesh between the others. Thick fingers tangled themselves in blond hair, but Taemin pulled back.
Jonghyun watched as the boy gripped the neck of the bottle with delicate hands, and a pang of guilt rang through him; but he was much too far gone- much too drunk to care or remember later as the blonde downed some of his drink.
He could tell by the look on Taemin's face that the alcohol burned his throat, but for some twisted reason, the boy took another swig.
Jonghyun pulled the drink away and lowered the boy to the ground, supporting himself above him so they could kiss again.
.
"Bring me a star."
Jonghyun didn't bother looking back from his task at hand- fixing his dyed brown hair in the mirror they shared. The room didn't have much, except for a dresser that balanced a broken antenna-style television and radio, a couple of boxes to act as desks and tables, small bathroom off the side with an equally small tub and sink, and of course- Taemin's favorite- the window. The mirror doubled as a medicine cabinet in their bathroom, the constant clack of it opening and closing the only clue to Taemin as to what Jonghyun was doing in the bathroom.
Taemin stated at the ceiling, wishing it was nighttime. Jonghyun always left during the day.
"I asked you what you wanted to fucking eat, so cut the shit and tell me. I don't fucking have time for this." came the growl.
There was a jingle of keys, and Jonghyun stepped out of the restroom expectantly pissed off as Taemin stared. He was clean shaven, hair styled nicely and spiked just the way the blonde liked it. He didn't respond, knowing that his boyfriend was only growing more impatient with him.
He wasn't really hungry. He didn't need food. He wanted more.
"I want the stars."
The slam of the door was his answer.
.
They were dancing, bodies melding together in a blend of sweat and flesh as they ground on each other, felt each other, breathed the same air.
Taemin loved to go clubbing- it was the only thing he liked to do when he wasn't vegetating in their room. He loved the way his body felt against Jonghyun's like this, he loved the way Jonghyun would press them together and buck upwards, the feeling of the hardness in the too-tight pants driving the blonde crazy. Jonghyun was a rough, passionate lover, and during late nights like this all was forgiven between the two- an incredible amount of sexual tension amounting between them and exploding like a burst of fireworks- sparks and noise and heat and all.
He was begging for it.
His lips dragged down the teen's neck, mouthing words that Taemin couldn't understand- it didn't make sense, nothing ever made sense when they were like this. Even there were so many other beings around them, all swaying and bouncing to the drumming music, it was like everything was white, everything was only them.
"Do you want the usual?" The husky voice urged, his hands riding up Taemin's sides and back. Muscles contracted in pleasure, the teenager struggled to nod, his surroundings becoming blurred and unfocused.
Was that a pill?
"Take another." he whispered.
.
White walls, white boards, hard floors- it was just like his room, only cleaner.
But he didn't like it here, and no one liked it when he was here.
Everyone was uniform, pencils clacking in tandem with each other's as they worked hard on their assignments, but Taemin didn't care.
It was a spur of the moment decision, and the professor even had the gall to looked surprised for once when he walked in, uniformless and blonde hair behold.
He hated it here. He hated the atmosphere; he hated how much people there were. They all pretended to care, false, crooked smiling faces that greeted him in the mornings, but behind closed doors they were faceless silhouettes, all speaking and criticizing him behind his back, he could tell. The thought made his stomach churn.
He wasn't a bad child.
He glanced out the window, feeling his heart break little by little. It wasn't the same window, but it painted a clearer picture- one that wasn't diluted with grime and smoke- it was one he had once been a part of; bright and clear, yet fleeting like his youth. It was too fast. It went by too fast.
Everyday something more was expected and everyday nothing got done. The pressure of being young.
He chose to escape it.
Unbeknownst to him, another teen wasn't paying attention to the lesson at hand. He opted to study to the blonde, wide eyes filled with something akin to worry and promise; but even if Taemin had seen, he wouldn't have been able to understand.
.
The room was spinning- no- Jonghyun was spinning.
The room was still. But it was dark. Was it always this dark?
The blonde felt a hand on his neck, pulling him far too forward than he felt comfortable with. He was going to fall straight through the ground if the hand pulled him any more forward. He struggled, trying to push the pressure back, but two hands were suddenly on his cheeks, they were cold, and he found himself looking into two big brown eyes.
"Taemin, you're falling." they whispered.
No, You're making me fall.
Taemin let himself be lowered to the bed, immediately reaching out for something to hold, something to clutch, something close to reality. He was handed a pillow- he thinks. Maybe it wasn't a pillow. Maybe it was that atrocious blanket. It didn't matter. He dung his nails into in the cushion and hugged it close, and he could smell it.
He could smell the lies, the affairs- but at the moment, it was life; it was real. Jonghyun took another deep breath of the poison in the room, the smoke filling his lungs and igniting sparks and endorphins throughout his brain and body. Taemin was wide-eyed and bushy tailed, observing the scene carefully, as if it could not process it fast enough the first time.
He was filled with the poison too.
It wasn't liquid poison, but he could feel it doing things to him. Things like the pills did and the alcohol did.
He turned over quickly, opting to look out his favorite window. The window was perfect. It was tempting. Taemin wanted to touch it, but it was swirling with colors- colors of different sorts and from all different ends of the spectrum. It was beautiful. It made shapes, refracted itself like a kaleidoscope and teased the blonde with its singing, its freedom and brightness.
Jonghyun reached out and flipped Taemin over, and the window went black again.
There were no stars, Taemin thought, eyelids fluttering as he breathed in the drug again.
.
"What is your fucking problem?!"
Taemin put his hands to his ears, trying to block out the venom the brunette was spitting at him.
"You're a little piece of shit; you know that, don't you?"
He bit his lip, settling himself in the corner their air mattress was in, it was just recently reflated; scrap pieces of duct tape holding the worn rubber together- fragile. Jonghyun was shouting at him again, and even through his fingers in his ears, his palms around the curves of the shell shaped appendages, he could still hear him.
"Listen to me!" He grabbed at the teen's wrists, yanking them fiercely out of their place. Taemin yelled, trying to kick his way out of the body that was slowing closing in his smaller one, shadows enveloping the negative space between them, and he cried. He cried at the putrid smell of alcohol he should have been used to by now, he cried at the way it didn't hide the smell of perfume all over Jonghyun's clothes.
It smelled like the blanket- and he didn't want to smell it.
He hated that blanket.
.
Taemin went to school the next day to avoid his boyfriend. He only really went when things like the night before occurred. Even the overly sterilized and sickeningly bright detention center was better than dealing with Jonghyun after a bad night.
The student watched him again with his knowing eyes, but it wasn't the dirt on his clothes that even still, were out of uniform, it wasn't the unruly blonde hair or the quiet, I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude, or even the telltale smell of pot that that caught his attention. That was what everyone noticed, what everyone judged him for.
It was the bags under his lack luster eyes, it was the cut on his swollen lip, it was the bruises on his wrist that were barely covered by the too-large button up he was wearing. It was the way he looked so crushed.
After class, he took a leap of faith.
His hand landed on something thin and bony, and he could feel the way the teen tensed up underneath him.
"I'm Choi Minho."
Minho was taken aback by the way the younger boy looked at him. His petal pink lips parted in shock, his pupils dilated and consuming the breathtaking brown- it was so dark, so full. He blinked, once, twice.
"Taemin." The boy breathed.
.
He came back drunk again.
The blonde was expecting it, but he was scared- he knew what was going to happen. He had been gone all day. This always happened. He braced himself emotionally, but he couldn't stop the overwhelming feeling of bile rising in his throat- a heaviness consuming him and making it so that he couldn't breathe.
Or maybe that was just Jonghyun's hand around his neck.
Jonghyun's lips attacked his, delving deep into the warm cavern with his tongue. He whined, the cut on his lip stung from the rough pressure. He was tired; he didn't want any of this.
Thin fingers wrapped around the older man's bicep, taunting him with the strength hidden underneath the flimsy material of the shirt. It was heavy, tensed, and Taemin knew he couldn't fight back. It wouldn't work that way. The prey always fell victim to the wolf. Jonghyun snarled, pulling back and slapping the teen clean across the face.
White flashed behind Taemin's eyes, a sharp ringing in his ears as he stumbled backwards from the impact. He could feel it, the little droplets of moisture accumulating on his cheek, the taste of iron filling his mouth and senses. The split in his lip had reopened, and the tears falling in the wound were stinging worse than needles.
His jaw was captured between strong, tanned fingers, a thumb pressing into his rapidly swelling cheek.
"What a dirty slut."
His nails dug into Taemin's flesh, drawing more blood.
"You're a fucking mess,"
His mouth was back on his face, possessive; dark.
"Messes like you need to be cleaned up."
Taemin could barely feel it.
.
"I brought you stars, Taemin."
The blonde refused to turn over, finding comfort in his tangible enemy. It was warmth. It was a kind of warmth, at least. Sweet words were being whispered to him, but he couldn't hear any of them.
It was like when they were at the club. Words being spoken into his skin.
It was like when they were high. Words not being registered.
He felt broken. Used. He always did. But he came back. Back to the lies. Back to the pain.
Jonghyun reached over, pulling on the strings that held ragged curtains in place. Taemin watched, his heart crumbling as his escape was shut off. He couldn't see his window. It was just dark.
But he could see the stars.
The man crawled into bed with him, leaning up against the wall in order to pull the younger boy's head in his lap. He stroked the silky soft strands of hair lovingly, massaging his scalp- the very scalp he had viciously tugged at earlier. Their hands clasped together, Jonghyun pulled Taemin's to his mouth- the same mouth that bit and spat horrid words at the boy-, kissing the back softly, gently, and then pulling their hands further up, pointing to the ceiling.
There were stars plastered all over the crumbly ceiling, the type that glow in the dark and adolecents have in their room when they're little and afraid of the unknown. They were softly shining a blue hue, bathing the room in the mild light.
"Can you see them?"
His voice is so lovely.
"I bought them for you."
Taemin's eyes watered, snuggling into the warm body under him.
It was his favorite place to be.
A/N 2: Yeah I know it doesn't make sense. ;n; I'm sorry.