The late hours of the nights were the worst. During the day and early evening he could immerse himself in the present, in the feel of his muscle and limb moving while he danced or went about on patrol as Sailor Aegir. But eventually he would have to return to the place he could no longer consider home, to fall exhausted into the too-large bed that no longer held his lover's scent. To lay his head on pillows that were disappointing for not having been a broad, warm chest or to wrap himself in blankets that were not the strong arms he wanted. Once he had preferred to sleep alone, but being with Björn had changed all of that and it would be some time before he could return to it. There were years of shared nights by then, after all.
Even when he went to bed exhausted he often lay there, staring up at nothing with tears in his eyes - angry or sad it didn't matter. Tears were funny like that, the scalded his cheeks no matter which emotion(s) were tumbling through him at that particular time. Waking was just as disappointing as laying to rest; each time he rose from the embrace of dreams he rose too into the reality that Björn was not there and that he had no idea where his lover had popped off to. Worse yet was not knowing when he'd be back, but he was doing his best. Colin tried to keep going on as he should - as an adult - to do the things that had been important to him and not fall completely to despair. So difficult when he didn't know where the hell Björn was or even why he was so long over due.
If he were safe or injured, dead or alive...if he would come back at all or if Colin would end up waiting forever with no resolution. He worried about such things when he wasn't angry over the distance and lack of contact. It had been...well, it had supposedly been meant as a two week trip and yet they were past the three week mark with no word. Where the ******** are you, Björn? Why haven't I heard from you? Do you just not want to come home? You've pulled away so much...was it something I did?
Did he blame himself for the distance between them? Of course he did. Deep in the night when he stood in the shower with water coursing over his head or when he was twisted up in his sheets, Colin picked himself apart, bit by bit. He had never been the sort to entertain such thoughts of self-doubt and recrimination, but it was becoming a sick habit that only stopped when he finally went unconscious. Some nights it got so bad between his thoughts and the aching of his heart that he'd head out and power up and over-use his magic just so he could crawl home and into bed and get a few hours before he had to be up.
It caused some problems with his work at the Destiny City Ballet Company, but so far he'd been able to lock himself down, lose himself in that familiar and beloved work...and September hadn't said anything about it. But he was waiting for the ballet master to call him out for a talking to. He looked like hell and each additional day without word from Björn, without resolution, deepened the shadows around his eyes and added to his stress levels. At the very least he was maintaining his body, forcing himself to eat - not as much as he should have, but enough to keep his body from cannibalizing itself. Even so, he looked wan and pale, his cheekbones had sunken in some and the deep shadows around his eyes just didn't do much to help his over-all appearance. Even the thick cake make-up DCBC used for performances wouldn't have helped much by that point.
Briefly he'd felt better about things, after catching up with Castor one night - which had ended in pancakes, of all things. The Prince of Hail had actually offered, more than once, to help him kick Björn's a** for hurting him - after having suggested something that he'd thought a few times but always dismissed. But what if...what if he were being harassed by the Negaverse? He'd tell me, surely. After all, he knows about Aegir... Once more the blond dismissed the thought, his mind settling into it's preferred thought patterns about how he'd messed everything up by going to RAD in Battlesea and how he'd not been there enough, not done enough to keep Björn by his side. To keep his love.
Colin just didn't know what to do...he'd never felt the way he did over this. The ache in his heart was so sharp and chilling, it spread through his chest like ice and kept him on edge and nervous all the time. Björn haunted him in memory and practice, there were so few aspects of his life that had not been touched by the gentle giant, that didn't bring him to mind.
Even visiting with his mother and sister shortly after Björn left had only exacerbated his distress, though he knew they'd meant well. Miriam told him he was stupid for letting Björn go and that he should do 'everything in his power' to fix whatever was wrong...and his mother had simply pulled him to the study to talk privately about his situation. That had been difficult, especially since she could not help but be nosy and accidentally cruel in the way that well-meaning parents could often be when their children were hurting. All her suggestions were impossible or impractical and the reminders that she'd thought they were not only doing well together but might even give her the chance to plan a wedding just made him want to cry again.
He'd only been able to softly say that he just didn't know anymore and had then put his head down on her desk to cry while Mrs. Hargrove stood beside her oldest child and smoothed his hair. It pained parent to see child so raw and wounded, especially after everything Colin had been through up to that point. Despite the inherent comfort to be found in the loving ministrations of a dear parent, he'd left feeling no better than when he'd arrived, but that wasn't surprising at all.
Very little made him feel better these days.
1,101 words
