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when inspiration strikes in the middle of Bio TYS
Sunday, November 29, 2009 10:08 PM
"Oh. There you are," Paul peered over the counter, spotting the splash of red hair against the black marble.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
But the hint of distress clouding Russell's eyes could hardly be missed. Paul made his way towards him, leaning his broad shoulders against the dark alabaster. Waited and watched. Russell was sitting down, slumped against the counter. He had come back from a run. Droplets of perspiration fell from his fringe, caught by his eyelashes. Taking heavy breaths, he flexed his fingers, stretching them till his palms turned pale.
"Russ?"
And then Russell gave in. To tears. One helluva breakdown. Clenching his bottom lip with his teeth, he tried to muffle the sobs. Tried to stop the pain. Took no notice of the hands that now came to hold his own. Paul simply reached out, his hands serving another surface for the tears to land. The room was silent apart from the sounds of Russell battling his own anguish.
He could only cry harder. As much as he wanted to stop, his own noisy, rhythmic breaths only seemed to turn on the waterworks further. He couldn't stop shaking. And there was nothing he could do, except to sink into the embrace that was awaiting.
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