The week had passed so slow for Adam. He spent his afternoons where he would normally be at practice, alone in his room feeling sorry for himself. Coach Wilson knew the extent of Banks' injury, and gave him the option to come to practice. He was no longer required to be there, seeing as he was off the team.
"FUCK!" Charlie barged into the room, waking Adam, as he chucked his skates into a corner.
"Jesus," Adam moaned, rubbing his eyes.
"This is fucking horseshit," Charlie pushed his hockey bag onto his bed and began to violently rip things out, throwing them to the floor in a fit of anger.
Adam rolled over to look at what was being abused by Charlie, as it landed between their two beds. The stuff looked awfully familiar, "What's this?"
"It's yours Adam. Your fucking stuff. Wilson asked me, no wait," Charlie paused to mock his coach, "Told me to clear your locker." Charlie reached in for the final object, and pulled out Adam's jersey. It land on top of everything else, #99 up, BANKS across the top.
"It killed me to do this Banks," Charlie said.
Adam was startled - since when did he call him Banks?
"It killed me because now it's real. You aren't coming back anymore. With your stuff there, we all felt like there was a hope for you to come back. But now that it's gone, I don't know," Charlie collapsed to the floor, an emotional mess, "Adam - what's happening?"
Adam slid down off the bed and took Charlie into his arms. He was beginning to move around pretty deftly with that cast.
Charlie's sobs wracked his body. He couldn't get it under control.
"Shh," Adam repeatedly rubbed his hand across Charlie's forehead, pushing his hair out of the way.
"It's gonna be alright," Adam left little kisses along Charlie's temple, "Charlie, ssshhh, I love you baby," he rubbed his back, "That's not gonna change."
Since when was Adam the strong one?
Charlie reached up and grabbed onto Adam, holding on for dear life, "I'm so sorry Adam," he managed to get out between sobs. But he wasn't sorry about Adam's wrist ... he had finally accepted that it was an accident.
Adam began to tear himself, "Charlie - I forgive you. I'll always forgive you."
Charlie pulled away and looked at his boyfriend through his tears, "Then, please, forgive me for this," Charlie leaned in and kissed him like he had so many times before. He kissed him hard yet softly, strong yet tenderly.
Charlie pulled away abruptly, and before Adam could even blink, he was gone in a flash of dark hair. The door slammed and Adam jumped.
Adam leaned back against his bed, and looked down at his wrist. His fucking wrist. It was what brought him and Charlie together, and if he was not mistaken, it just drove them apart.
He whispered to no one in particular, "What the fuck?"
"FUCK!" Charlie barged into the room, waking Adam, as he chucked his skates into a corner.
"Jesus," Adam moaned, rubbing his eyes.
"This is fucking horseshit," Charlie pushed his hockey bag onto his bed and began to violently rip things out, throwing them to the floor in a fit of anger.
Adam rolled over to look at what was being abused by Charlie, as it landed between their two beds. The stuff looked awfully familiar, "What's this?"
"It's yours Adam. Your fucking stuff. Wilson asked me, no wait," Charlie paused to mock his coach, "Told me to clear your locker." Charlie reached in for the final object, and pulled out Adam's jersey. It land on top of everything else, #99 up, BANKS across the top.
"It killed me to do this Banks," Charlie said.
Adam was startled - since when did he call him Banks?
"It killed me because now it's real. You aren't coming back anymore. With your stuff there, we all felt like there was a hope for you to come back. But now that it's gone, I don't know," Charlie collapsed to the floor, an emotional mess, "Adam - what's happening?"
Adam slid down off the bed and took Charlie into his arms. He was beginning to move around pretty deftly with that cast.
Charlie's sobs wracked his body. He couldn't get it under control.
"Shh," Adam repeatedly rubbed his hand across Charlie's forehead, pushing his hair out of the way.
"It's gonna be alright," Adam left little kisses along Charlie's temple, "Charlie, ssshhh, I love you baby," he rubbed his back, "That's not gonna change."
Since when was Adam the strong one?
Charlie reached up and grabbed onto Adam, holding on for dear life, "I'm so sorry Adam," he managed to get out between sobs. But he wasn't sorry about Adam's wrist ... he had finally accepted that it was an accident.
Adam began to tear himself, "Charlie - I forgive you. I'll always forgive you."
Charlie pulled away and looked at his boyfriend through his tears, "Then, please, forgive me for this," Charlie leaned in and kissed him like he had so many times before. He kissed him hard yet softly, strong yet tenderly.
Charlie pulled away abruptly, and before Adam could even blink, he was gone in a flash of dark hair. The door slammed and Adam jumped.
Adam leaned back against his bed, and looked down at his wrist. His fucking wrist. It was what brought him and Charlie together, and if he was not mistaken, it just drove them apart.
He whispered to no one in particular, "What the fuck?"