(no subject)
The leave's been coming for a while, not ringed on the calendar, nothing so fucking obvious, but there, in the back of his head. He walks out of the office on a Friday and drives home to his aoartment, throws a few things into a duffle bag and he's on his way again, towards the airport. He finds it hard to relax during the five hours in the air. He puts his earbuds in and closes his eyes. He's aware of every single song he listens to.
He told Nate not to bother coming out to the airport; he gets on a train instead. It's been long enough that he's almost on autopilot as he makes his way towards Nate's apartment. His heart beating in his chest. Not racing; he's not a fucking cliche after all.
BUt he's aware of it, all the same.
He told Nate not to bother coming out to the airport; he gets on a train instead. It's been long enough that he's almost on autopilot as he makes his way towards Nate's apartment. His heart beating in his chest. Not racing; he's not a fucking cliche after all.
BUt he's aware of it, all the same.