Broken
A/N: I was hoping that the sequel to WOSBE would be my 30th fic, but I finished my first manuscript and decided to write angst cause I love hurting my characters/projecting onto them. Also, pretty happy to have accomplished something I've been wanting to do since I was five or six.
The door creaked open, and a few seconds later the light came on.
"Bryce," his voice was soft as he looked at the bed. "You have to get up at some point," Blake continued, stepping further into the room.
Blake stood in the doorway for a while longer as the bed creaked and ear-length, blond hair was swept from Bryce's face. He smiled, saying, "You could've just let me sleep for a while longer."
That felt like years ago, even if it was just a week ago. A week since Bryce left to God knows where without a call to anyone. He wouldn't even answer their calls.
"Did he call back?" Sam asked, leaning against the wall.
"No," He hadn't even messaged Blake or anyone for that matter. Not even his parents. "It just goes straight to voice mail now."
Was this really Blake's fault? He didn't think this would happen, much less that he would be the cause of it.
"You do know he talked to me before he left, right?" Sam said. "I never heard him sound so hopeless, not even after," he stopped, running a hand down his face. "He told me he thought you just married him 'cause you felt sorry for him."
Blake sat up from his slouch, glancing at his unanswered messages.
Most of them consisted of 'Where are you?' and 'Everyone's worried about you.'
Not one 'I'm sorry.'
"Of course I didn't marry him out of pity," Blake said, avoiding Sam's glare. "You should know better than anyone that I love him."
He was slowly becoming unsure as the memory of Bryce's presence faded the more Blake tried to pinpoint how often he saw his husband up until now. It felt like Bryce was slipping away, piece by piece.
Sam clenched his jaw, replying, "He felt ignored, did you know that? That's probably why he left. What was the point in trying to talk to someone who wouldn't listen?"
"I. . ." Blake stopped, twisting the ends of his hair.
As much as he'd hate to admit it right now, Sam was right. When was the last time Bryce actually spoke to him without getting cut off or Blake just nodding along? Bryce mostly laid in bed for most of the day before he left, now that Blake thought about it.
The dial tone rang in his ear again, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Blake didn't bother to leave a message, knowing that the rest of them already did. Why make a bad situation worse?
A/N: I forgot to say that is entirely non-canon. Meaning that it has no connection to the original story, Stained, which you can read on Wattpad, I have the same username. Clearly, there's more than one part, I wouldn't leave you guys hanging. We can suffer together. Review please.