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North is accustomed to the lengthy hours of his job. Being a forensic psychologist was essentially a life-long commitment, but coming home to find his boyfriend sound asleep, having to have dinner by himself, and spending the night alone were not experiences he had planned to have for the rest of his life. Not that he blames Night for sleeping; he also has his own tiring job as a forensic scientist.
Sincerely, he holds himself accountable for his failure to perform better at work so that he could complete his tasks and leave early. If he had performed better, he would have had more chances to leave early.
Though most days ended with a depressing conclusion to his evening due to his poor performance at work, which led to more hours. More hours meant even less time to maybe catch the other boy he wanted so badly to spend time with awake.
The highlight of his day was saying good morning to Night. They had a quick breakfast that Night had made while he got ready, then said their goodbyes sealed with a kiss that made everything better before splitting up to go to work.
Sadly, his routine had not been the same today. North had a terrible start to the day, as he was called in earlier than usual. Don’t these people understand that he has a routine of getting a kiss from his boyfriend and having breakfast?
After that, his day happened like it always did, patient after patient determining right from wrong. During lunch, he had attempted to get in touch with Night but was unable to get through. He also had to say that the missed call was painful, but he moved on.
After lunch, there was just more work and then he was asked to stay for another worker who called in sick. It seemed like he couldn’t catch a break today.
Since neither of them had work tomorrow, he could at least look forward to having dinner at home with his boyfriend and bidding Night a goodnight.
It was another part of their weekly routine. The weekends were the only two days out of the week that they both had off and it was their own time for each other, which made up for the rest of the long week without one another.
North sighed tiredly; he just wanted to go home already and all that was left was a tiring drive home. By now it was close to two in the morning, and he knew that Night was probably preparing dinner. He picked up his phone and clicked the contact that shined brightly with a blue heart.
North remembers when they decided to use the blue hearts exclusively for each other. It was both of their favorite colors. There was a faint smile on his face.
It rang and rang until it dropped the call. Why hadn't Night picked up? This was the second time today and usually the other would pick up if he was free. His smile dropped.
North shook away the thoughts of Night potentially leaving him and packed up his area. They had talked about this before and he reminded himself of the words they had exchanged the day he finally opened up.
Its the only words he chanted to himself as he got inside the car and drove off.
Night after night, the journey home seemed to take an eternity. Maybe it was the fact that he was alone and it was dark outside. Nothing illuminated the area, indicating that he was, in the end, by himself.
A method to constantly slap his trauma in the face. The faint memories passed by with such unbearable pressure that his chest tightened, forcing him to claw at his buttoned shirt in an attempt to find some sort of relief.
He wished he could just break free from this never-ending loop of memories that tormented him every day.
Observing the GPS, he was only two minutes away from his loving residence. One devoid of memories that caused him to curl up into a ball and rip at his skin in an attempt to escape the sensation.
A home that had his boyfriend waiting for him regardless of whether he was asleep or awake.
Once more, the sensation of hopelessness swept over him; this had been happening all the time. Ever since Night had not returned his first call, North could not get rid of the uneasy feeling in his gut.
His thoughts were likely influenced by his unresolved trauma, but he had no intention of unraveling that at all.
North clenches his teeth and lets out a long, heavy sigh, but it did not seem to be helping in the slightest. Why did his mind have to operate in this manner? He just wanted to be normal.
“Hmm,” he mused. The lights that decorated his home were off, which was unusual. Night never turned them off so that North could see where he was walking at night.
As he parks the car, his memories flash through his mind. North can't help the stumble he takes as he gets off the car. Why hadn’t Night turned on the lights? His chest tightens as the agony gets more and more intolerable.
Had Night not come home tonight? Maybe he was just running late; yeah, thats the only reason the lights could be off.
North quickly walked inside the house, trying to ignore the stillness that consumed the usually bright house. All the lights were off, no fans made that low buzzing noise, and the house looked exactly the same since he had left earlier that day.
Could it be that Night had planned this since the morning? Had the boy planned to leave the house on the day that North happened to go in early? Was there a chance he would never return?
Is he alone again? His heart thumps once. Had Night, like his parents, finally grown tired of him to the point of abandoning him? It starts to pound against his chest, wanting to be freed.
“It hurts," he says to the empty room. “It hurts so bad,” he repeats.
To no one.
Was North so unlovable to his own family and now his boyfriend has left him? The tears reach his eyes as he blinks. A sob gets lodged in the base of his throat as it becomes dry. North tries to remember all the words Night told him that night but nothing comes to his mind.
The only thing coming to his mind was his childhood.
Every time he tries to recall anything, a flash of pain passes by. His mother neglecting him, his father punishing him by screaming and insulting him, all alone with no siblings to rely on.
Child North, who is all alone in such a big house with nothing but a faint whisper of the insults and pain thrown at him. Now here he sits in his own big house full of fond and happy memories but all he can do is tremble in pain and fear.
Why had everything reverted to his worst fear? He heaves, trying to clear his eyes and throat, but the stinging tears kept falling.
North's thoughts were controlled by his mind, which repeatedly told him how he had been left alone. There were whispers of absence coursing through his mind.