Chapter Text
Date: Unknown
The boy walked out to the forest. The air was crisp and brisk, leaves crunching under his feet, leaving them wet with morning dew. He supposes that, at some point, they go numb. He also supposes he might be cold, since his teeth are chattering. Some small voice in his head says maybe he should grab a jacket. But he can’t turn around.
He comes to the old oak tree, placing his hands along the familiar bark. So many a splinter and scraped elbows from trying to climb her branches. He wonders if, perhaps, he came here seeking answers. A source of refuge. It was more of a home than any house ever was.
Taking the rope from his hand to his shoulder, he climbs her once more. He remembers the days when he used to have to jump to get to her lower branches – now, he towered above them. So he went up higher, higher. Closer to the top than he ever had before. He didn’t make it all the way up, however. Those branches were weaker, and he was… afraid. They might break and it might hurt and that… scared him.
Besides, some part of it felt disrespectful. She had not been on this earth far longer than him just to be conquered.
He knows the rope won’t reach the ground, and he begins to tie it up, checking the knot to ensure it won’t snap. As he wraps the other end around his neck, he hears that small voice again. But this time, it is not in his head. It is below, running. He opens his eyes to see his brother down at the bottom. He’s yelling, playfully from the sounds of it. He doesn’t see the rope.
Birds are singing. The boy smiles as he jumps.
Present Day
Hunter, age 24
Hunter shut off his alarm the instant it sounded. He had been prepared to bolt upright for the past hour or so, throwing the blanket off. To say that he sprinted to the bathroom was a mild exaggeration, considering he had to stop and open two sets of doors for it, so his motions were more of an awkward, rushed hopping, but he had the water going in the time it normally took him to even sit up and acknowledge that the day had started. But he wanted to get this out of the way before any of the other students on this floor woke up.
He peered into the mirror again, palms pressed into the sink as he stood on his tip toes. He never was the type to gaze at his own reflection for long periods of time before, at least not with high amounts of appreciation, but lately he felt he couldn’t stop. Not that anyone blamed him, and he didn’t feel vain for doing so, as he gazed down to his chest. Or rather, lack thereof.
His smile grew until it wasn’t enough to express his emotions anymore, and he burst into a chuckle fit, bouncing just a little bit, before calming down enough to merely hum, reaching behind the shower curtain to check the temperature before stepping in. That had been the most difficult part, for him, personally. After the surgery, he had spent the following week in a compression vest, which he had to clean with a sponge. Feeling the shower on his chest for the first time had been when it finally hit him that he had actually done it, that he was able to look in the mirror and enjoy the person staring back at him, and he absolutely could not contain his excitement.
He ended up grabbing his phone, posing it at an angle just above his eye level, giving a peace sign and sticking out his tongue, posting an extremely rare selfie with the tagline “No longer female-presenting nipples!” He laughed at his own stupid joke, refreshing the page to see if anyone said something. Then refreshed again. And a few times after that. His mood faltered slightly. Did he pick a bad time? Was, somehow, everyone offline? Then again, he didn’t have too many friends, so, that was a distinct possibility. Or what if he posted so few pictures of himself that none of his followers actually recognized him?
Then his stomach dropped in regards to his tagline. What if it got flagged and removed? Another way to remind him of how society saw him. Christ, why had he done that, he shouldn’t be joking about things like this, he could get in trouble. He went to delete, but then decided to refresh once more, and saw a comment giving congratulations with a heart next to the words.
Hunter sighed. Alright, crisis averted. That aside, he went back to smiling.
That had been back when he first got to take off the vest – today was the day he could finally handle exercising again, which was perfect because spending the past few weeks on the couch binge watching shows and playing video games had left him feeling sluggish. He had planned around this, however – get the surgery during the summer time so he at least wouldn’t have to worry about classes. Among other things.
He rushed out of the shower with the same enthusiasm he had going in, juggling between brushing his teeth and drying off. Going over to his dresser, he felt a sense of unease at the sight of an empty pill bottle lying next among his socks. Hunter sighed, knowing he was going to get an earful about it when discovered. But that didn’t need to happen today. He pulled out his clothes – boxers, and a pair of running shorts. No shirt. He didn’t need one where he was going. Not that this was his first time stepping out of the residence hall shirtless – he wouldn’t have been so fearless, even if his only other experience was taking out the trash or getting the mail.
Another reason he had planned this in the summer, he got – what he suspected – were fewer double takes at him. Although there was one time where he hadn’t made it out of the shower fast enough, and one of his floor mates caught sight of him. She, in particular, had an odd sense of humor, and whistled at him, which he knew was meant to be taken as a compliment, but he never cared for being caught in the bathroom.
The only downside was that none of his running shorts had particularly good pockets for holding his phone. When he went out to exercise, he wore a sports bra for that very reason, affectionately referring to his chest as his “phone case” (to himself, he never quite had it in him to tell anyone else the joke). Still, such an insignificant price to pay, if he would even consider calling it that much. He tied up his shoes and threw his gemstone bracelet on, then elected to hold the phone in his hand. He might have left it home if he had planned on being right back, but he never knew when these were going to be quick visits or when he was able to stay for hours on end. He didn’t mind either way, but he was hoping for the latter.
He took off, then, which was the easiest part of his routine, considering he lived uphill, but going in this direction meant he was running down. It was early enough that the sun had barely peeked out, meaning the leftovers of last night’s cool air still hung around. Having done this run many times over his school years, Hunter’s brain went into autopilot, allowing him to think about the other ordeal now about to be rectified.
Philip.
January had been when he had told Hunter about the summer retreat he was planning on taking abroad. Hunter remembered this detail, because they had been huddled on the couch, and it was still cold enough to make the last of his peppermint tea. Hunter bit back his disappointment and urge to ask the question they both knew the answer to. Instead, he asked where the retreat would be happening, and Philip mentioned Italy, which apparently was very fortunate because he of course had a modest property out there. Hunter questioned just how ‘fortunate’ the situation could possibly be.
This was the longest they had been apart since… alright, technically, from the pre-college program to admissions had been the longest time, and a few months hardly compared to two years. Hunter had been such an awkward little teenager back then, it was a wonder how he had managed a catch like Philip. It was a silly little fantasy of his, one he didn’t have the guts to share, but after they had reunited back then, Hunter liked to think that Philip had been waiting for him.
The jostle between euphoria and loneliness had been his constant state of mind this past summer. Even that wasn’t enough to get him to see Philip before today, however. Immediately after the surgery, Hunter had been lethargic and tender, his chest swollen and occasionally producing discharge, which was not how he wanted Philip to see him. Still, holding back had been an act of sheer will power. At first, Hunter thought about keeping it a secret, making a surprise out of it. But he never could lie to Philip, and then he began concerned that such an action might be taken the wrong way.
So, he had announced then that if they were going to been apart anyway, Hunter was finally going to get his surgery, and immediately regretted saying something. How would he pay for it, considering all his money came from scholarships and student loans? But Philip voiced his approval at the decision, and Hunter melted. He still must have sensed his uneasiness, because then Philip told him not to worry about the finances, that he would give him a small loan under the table, and they would work out the details later.
He knew Hunter so well.
Hunter hadn’t been able to actually see him the last day Philip was in America, the two of them meeting at their usual spot a few nights prior, Philip handing over the envelope. Hunter never actually counted the bills inside, only learning how much there was when he went to deposit it into his bank account, which he almost didn’t want to do, acknowledging that this was the last thing Philip was going to give him over the next few months. He knew it was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help himself from holding it up, inhaling in the lingering scent of his cologne and hand sanitizer.
He did end up keeping the envelope.
It had been a few days more before they were able to coordinate a video call, Hunter remembering the exact rush of relief flowing through his bloodstream at the sight of his face, at the sound of his voice. As if he had been holding his breath until then. As if everything wrong with the world had been corrected. He hadn’t quite found that same sense of ease yet, not with half a mile to go still, and with this still persistent ounce of dread at Philip’s reaction. Which was foolish – he had paid for the surgery, for god’s sake, of course he was going to be thrilled? Still, Philip never seemed to like change too much, which Hunter could relate to.
Shouldn’t be anything to worry about, though.
Hunter realized in that moment that he was sweating significantly less than usual for this run, despite the sun rising, but then he realized he wasn’t wearing a sports bra anymore. Maybe he should have, to build up to it? Was showing Philip immediately a step too far? A bit late for that, he was just going to have to play up the confidence.
As he approached his destination – a moderate, but still expensive looking condominium – he inhaled through his nose, held for a beat, then exhaled out of his mouth. He curled his hand enough that the tip of his fingers caught onto his bracelet, kneading the beads, finding balance in the rhythm. Then, he approached the door, and knocked.
When it wasn’t opened instantly, his foot started to tap. He told himself it didn’t mean anything, that Philip never answered that quickly. Was Hunter too early? He held up his phone, but he hadn’t missed any messages. Just as he was about to check his texts again to see what time they were supposed to meet up, he heard the click of the lock being undone. He threw his hand against the wall, leaning into it, his other hand at his hip, then behind his back, then on his hip again.
As the door opened, every cell in his body screamed to embrace the man who stood before him, to feel his arms around him and breathe in his scent, but he remained steady and cool, biting his lower lip in a playful manner as he took in Philip’s mild surprise. Hunter wasn’t too sure what he was reacting to – the fact that he was shirtless outside, or the fact that his surgery was openly visible. It didn’t last long as Philip invited him in.
“Hello, Hunter.” He said in that low voice which would have been difficult to hear for anyone else, but Hunter was always able to make out his words.
He took off his running shoes and instantly shrunk at least an inch and a half. Something Hunter was both endeared and bothered by – he didn’t mind that Philip was taller than him, but he somehow had a feeling that he was thought less of for it. Like Philip still saw that kid from the pre-college program. Hunter wanted… well, Philip had always known about his gender, but it didn’t end there. Hunter wanted Philip to see him as a man.
“Hello, Philip.” He said in an equally low tone, albeit, without the conviction and confidence Philip had. Still, he knew how to play this game.
The foyer of the condo led into the kitchen, and Hunter propped himself up against the peninsula, puffing out slightly, wondering which one of them was going to point out the obvious. Awkwardly, he set his phone on the counter top as Philip stepped over. He reached out a hand, and Hunter instinctively titled his head in the opposite direction, but Philip indicated towards the phone.
“Hunter…” he started. There was a sternness in the word. “I’ve asked you not to bring that one over here.”
Hunter let out a groan. How could he have been so stupid as to bring his actual phone? “I’m sorry… I think my burner is out of minutes, and I just…”
“It’s alright.” Philip went on, his tone softening. He pressed a hand to Hunter’s cheek, who shut his eyes and sighed into the touch, resting against it. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
“Yes…” Hunter agreed, his breathing picking up. Maybe three months didn’t compare to two years, but at least during that time, this had all only been a one-sided fantasy on Hunter’s part. But now that they were here, and he knew how it felt to have Philip’s arms around him, or what Philip looked like without any clothes on, or what he felt like inside of him…
Those nights alone had dragged on, and granted, half the time his body was too sore or swollen to actively want to do anything. All the same, he was allowed to miss this. Were those nights just as bad for Philip? He had invited Hunter over sooner, but he had been too nervous, wanting to wait the exact time the doctor recommended. It hurt to tell Philip no, but simultaneously, it made his heart flutter to know that Philip had reached out first.
“You look very well.” Philip said, interrupting his thoughts.
“Do I?” Hunter teased, rocking back and forth.
He didn’t see as Philip brought his hand down across his neck to his chest, the rush of it sending a jolt down to his crotch, making him catch his breath. He did watch as Philip took both hands and rotated his thumbs along Hunter’s nipples. The touch itself wasn’t sensitive, in fact there was a disconnect, as if Philip were pressing against someone else, but Hunter still felt the pressure of it. That wasn’t the point, though. He kept on shivering, his persona slipping as he internally scolded himself for getting turned on already.
His eyes shut so he didn’t see Philip lean down and nip at his neck. The sound he made then was beyond embarrassing, but really, what did he expect? Philip always ended up taking the lead. Hunter wished he had gone in to kiss him instead, then he took it back, unable to process how ungrateful he was for thinking such a thing as Philip pulled back his jaw and began to lick at the mark he had left.
“Philip…” Hunter whispered. “I missed you.”
“I noticed.” Was the reply, but it was playful. Hunter opened his eyes in time to see Philip press their foreheads together. “I missed you too, Hunter.”
They kissed, and Hunter wondered – not for the first time – if Philip somehow managed to hear his thoughts. Hunter sometimes heard them, bouncing back from the walls to his ears. He didn’t want to think about that now – he wanted to think about the taste on Philip’s tongue.
It was when Philip started to go for his shorts that Hunter gripped onto his wrist. He frowned – Philip wasn’t used to pausing.
“Something wrong?”
Hunter shook his head, smiling. He wasn’t very good at this sort of thing, and was more than willing to let Philip do whatever he pleased, since he was always so gentle and caring, but Hunter had felt like a different person these past few months. This morning in particular. Which meant he was going to have to step out of his comfort zone.
He let go of Philip, trailing his fingers up along his shirt until they were able to slip around his shoulders. His hair, which was normally kept uptight, hung loosely, and Hunter brushed along it, enjoying the tickle of it against his knuckles.
“I just want to show you how much I missed you…”
Philip grinned, then stood up suddenly, causing Hunter to get on his tip toes, losing balance, until Philip placed a hand underneath his thighs, holding him against his chest. Ok, this was cheating, but Hunter wasn’t discouraged. In fact, he took it as a sign to try even harder. He pushed himself up, bending his knees and pressing them onto Philip’s hips, pulling him into another kiss, the hands tangled in his hair now clenching down fistfuls. Philip had to reach out for the walls in order to guide them to the living room, and Hunter felt an immense amount of pride in being such a distraction.
He didn’t let go as Philip tried to lie him on the couch, pulling them both down before pushing himself up, forcing Philip to slide over and practically fall off onto the floor. Hunter faltered for a moment, afraid he might have actually hurt him, but Philip allowed himself to be pressed on his back and straddled. He wasn’t hard yet, unlike Hunter, but he rubbed against his pants. Hunter felt himself seep between his boxers, making them stick to him.
He started to unbutton the pants, attempting to do so without turning his gaze from Philip, even as his fingers fumbled. The sight of this man, relaxed, content, utterly enjoying himself as Hunter splayed him out and did as he pleased… he throbbed and ached, and yet felt a satisfaction he hadn’t in ages.
At last, however, he had to gaze back down as he pulled off Philip’s garments, repositioning himself so he was bent over the arm of the couch, one hand around his flaccid penis and the other taking a gentle hold of his testicles. Philip exhaled as Hunter pulled back his foreskin and gave his head a teasing lick. He continued to press his tongue around the shaft, slowly going up and down, waiting until he was fully erect before taking him into his mouth.
Hunter was pleasantly surprised at how well he was still able to take him. He gripped onto the base, rotating his hand around it as he bobbed up and down, stopping once in a while to swirl his tongue around the head again. Philip put a hand to Hunter’s head, petting his hair and whispering words of affirmation.
Normally, at this point, Hunter would have brought his erection to his chest, the muscle memory of him fitting snuggly between his breasts so vivid and strong even now. Hunter briefly contemplated the concept of ‘phantom pain’ and wondered if this was an adjacent experience. Regardless, he pulled himself off and took both hands to press it up against his chest. He knew this probably didn’t feel as good to Philip anymore, but god did it feel good to Hunter. He was very aware of how tightly the fabric of his shorts were tugging against him, causing him to move his hips, the action of it almost painful.
“Left pocket, dear.” Philip said between panting.
Hunter reached in and pulled out a condom, ripping open the packaging with his teeth, pulling off what little clothing he had on before placing the contraceptive into his mouth, inhaling slightly so it caved in. Then, he laid forward once more, holding of the erection, slowly taking in inch by inch again, the latex unpleasant, but at least it was fitting on correctly.
“All the way in, my love.” Philip encouraged, and Hunter moved his hands, pubic hair tickling at his nose. He wanted to tease a little more with his tongue, but the taste was starting to get to him, as well as his own needs.
He got into position, rubbing their erections together as he lubricated the condom.
“You don’t want any reciprocation?” Philip asked.
God, did Hunter need any? He was already soaking wet, the cloth of his boxers had rubbed him raw. If he kept on heavy petting for much longer, he was going to cum on this alone. Which might have been Philip’s goal. Hunter knew he was teasing, dragging this out.
He realized then he hadn’t answered yet, so he shook his head.
“And you’re sure you can handle it?” Philip continued, the mocking aspect of his tone more obvious. He took a hold of Hunter’s calves, giving them a light squeeze. “Doctor’s orders satisfied?”
“Jesus Christ, Philip.” He snapped, earning a chuckle in response.
Hunter gripped at his erection and lined himself up before finally sinking in. He gasped at the fullness he felt, the familiar shape stretching him out. He clenched around and rocked against him, rubbing away at his clit, swearing under his breath. Philip presented both of his hands, which Hunter grabbed onto and balanced with as he started to shift his weight up and down.
So caught up in the physical euphoria of the moment, it took until now for the emotional aspect to catch up. It wasn’t their first time in this position, but oh, Hunter did not like to think about then. How awkward he was. Philip had been so kind and patient guiding him through it. Now however, slamming his body against this man who lay helpless beneath him, breathless and gasping, having complete control over the speed and roughness, Hunter had never experienced such a rush in power.
He really was a new person.
Eventually, his hands became tired and slightly numb, so he sat back, one hand resting on the arm of the couch, the other rubbing at his lower abdomen, locating his g-spot as he redirected the erection inside him to hit it as well. That was what got him over the edge, both fists now clenching into different parts of the couch, his jaw shut tight as he somehow managed to go even faster, the sensation taking over the entire bottom half of his body, ending just as quickly, before overwhelming him once again.
He exhaled sharply, pausing in order to catch his breath.
“Is that all you need?” Philip remarked, however this time Hunter couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not. When they had first started sleeping together, Philip always asked if Hunter had finished, because he wasn’t exactly the most obvious about it – which he definitely felt like he was being now, hence why he was unsure of how serious Philip meant to be. He remained quiet, regardless.
Philip was looking up at him expectantly, and Hunter leaned forward so he hovered inches above him, before Philip put a hand behind his neck and brought him in for a kiss. Teasing or not, now that Hunter had cum twice, it was only fair to focus in on finishing Philip. He must have had the same thought, as he grabbed onto Hunter’s waist and pulled him off without warning.
“Wha-” Hunter tried to say, but Philip had already pushed both of them up, repositioning so Hunter was on his lap, back to chest, before putting himself back in.
“You missed this, didn’t you?” He whispered into Hunter’s ear.
“Yeah…”
“I missed this, too…” he put a hand to Hunter’s head, a spot right besides his ear, rubbing at it. “More than you can imagine.”
Hunter reached behind himself and gripped onto the top of Philip’s head, unsure if he was still meant to move or not. As a response, Philip rubbed along Hunter’s chest again, which made him arch into the touch. But then Philip pressed against Hunter’s back, so he was forced to lean forward, staring down and watching as he was fucked mercilessly.
Eventually, the angle started to hurt his neck, so he sat back up, moving his legs enough so he could balance on his knees and move along with Philip. Hunter turned his head back so the two of them could kiss, all the while moving Philip’s hands back to his chest. Finally he reached his own climax, pressing Hunter tightly to him, holding him completely still as he finished. Hunter bit his lip, the sight and feel of Philip being in such a vulnerable state always being just slightly too much for him.
The two of them sat there, panting, and Hunter couldn’t stop smiling. Philip returned the grin, giving Hunter a peck on the cheek before pulling him off and setting him down on the couch while he got up to dispose of the condom. Hunter didn’t lie down for long, however, choosing to beat Philip to the bathroom and use the toilet before he came in to clean up. That was always the deciding factor in how much time Hunter ended up spending here – if Philip started a bath, it meant the two of them would cuddle in the water for a good while. Starting the shower meant there were other things going on in the afternoon. Hunter’s heart sank as Philip came in and the shower nozzle went off.
He told himself he didn’t have a right to be disappointed, not when the rest of the morning had gone so well, and really he should just be grateful to have Philip back anyway – he was a busy man. Still, even after they finished washing up, Hunter didn’t immediately bolt for the door, although his clothes were dry and caked with his secretion and putting them back on made him feel gross, particularly after two showers, but Philip didn’t live here full time, so he had no clothes for Hunter to borrow.
This was something Hunter always wonder about, as he propped himself on the counter top again, leaning back so he was on display while Philip brought out some bottled ice teas. He understood why this place remained their little hide out, but this was his last year of school. When they didn’t have to conceal their relationship anymore, would Hunter be allowed to move in? Or would he move into the house Philip actually owned? He question regarding what would happen to the condo was drowned out by his excitement at the prospect of living with Philip, but then that was overruled by his concern that it was never going to happen.
“Philip…?” He ventured. It took the man a moment to answer as he was in the middle of swallowing his tea. Hunter’s own sat unopened in his hands. “Well, as you know, this is my last year of school, so…”
“Hunter.” Philip interrupted. “We’ve talked about this.”
“No we haven’t.” It was true. Every time he tried, Philip shot him down. Like what he was doing now. Hunter didn’t understand the issue with at least having a plan for it?
Philip gave him a sad smile, putting a hand on his shoulder, his tone going soft. “There’s no easy solution to this, darling. We knew that going into this.”
That was also true. They couldn’t help that they had fallen in love. All the same, this had been going on for eight years. Six, technically. Philip would say six. Hunter would say eight. That was a long time to wait for something. For this relationship to become something more. People occasionally made, what Hunter felt, were unnecessary comments regarding his dating life, or from their perspective, the lack thereof. He just wanted to announce it to the world that he had a bigger catch than anyone on his campus. Which was incredibly immature, no wonder Philip still treated him like a child, but a full third of his life had been dedicated to this man. Didn’t that entitle him to something?
“We haven’t done anything illegal.” He countered.
“This is for you, too, Hunter.” Philip tapped at the iced tea. “You should drink something, you’ll get dehydrated.”
Hunter twisted the cap, sounding off a tiny hiss. He took a sip, despite not being a huge fan of tea, much less this brand, but Philip was right. So eager this morning, he had ran here without even thinking about bringing water. He was reckless. And maybe that’s what he was being now, because he kept asking questions.
“I just want to know what next year will look like?”
Philip finished off the last of his drink, setting down the bottle as he wandered around the room. He was looking for something. His car keys, maybe? “Next year will look like next year. There’s no point in worrying about the future like that.”
“I’m not worried.” Yes he was. “I just… want to plan for it. That’s all.”
Philip stopped his search and peered over at Hunter, leaning over the counter and sighing deeply. “What would it look like, indeed?”
He asked it in a way which indicated that Hunter should know this answer, and he did. It would look like hell for both of them, is what. “Do you think there’ll ever be a time where we don’t have to hide?”
“Who’s to say?” Philip got up, and Hunter anticipated him to resume his search, but instead he walked over and nestled between his legs. “If there’s ever a time when we can, we will.” He gave Hunter’s knee a little pat. “But I don’t want to have this argument again. Things are fine the way they are now, aren’t they?”
“Right.” Hunter said as he took another sip.
Eight Years Ago
Hunter, age 16
“Summer Pre-college Programs” was the title of the e-mail. Hunter opened it mostly to get rid of the notification. These were such scams, and in his opinion, a complete waste of time, especially at his age. But they would look good on a college application, so he went ahead and gazed at the list. Most of them were political or community service based – nothing that was really relevant to anything he had going on, but then he scrolled more to the bottom.
‘June-July, psychology class run by Dr. Philip Wittebane, author of…”
Hunter did a double take. That must have been a typo of some sort. Granted, it wasn’t all that unusual for their town to occasionally get more upscale guest speakers to come and give lectures. Not that ‘Philip Wittebane’ was exactly a household name, but his research and discoveries were pretty significant amongst those in the know.
He ran over to his computer desk and rummaged through until he found what he was looking for. ‘Restorative Memory’ by Philip Wittebane. He went back to the e-mail, reread the title again, and continued back and forth for some time. There was no denying it, then. Hunter clicked on the link to see what the program would entail, and, probably more importantly, who qualified to join. He was the right age, grade level and so forth. It looked like the only thing required on his part was an essay, to basically prove why he deserved this slot over… oh Jesus, only eight other students?
Hunter sighed and exited the page. He didn’t stand a chance. What would he even write about? What could he possibly discuss that would catch the interest of Dr. Philip Wittebane? Maybe there were past entries he could look at for inspiration. No, if this was taught any year prior, Hunter would have known about it.
There was a whistle in the corner, a four note rhythm. Hunter returned it.
He thought about what the other contestants might write about. Most likely true crime. It was a hot topic, if not a bit over saturated. There were enough essays on why serial killers murdered, in Hunter’s opinion. But if he wanted to get Dr. Wittebane’s attention, he would have to do something high profile like that.
His foster brother came in and immediately passed out on the bed adjacent to Hunter, who turned off the lights to accommodate him. Then he just sat there in darkness. When sleep didn’t come quick enough for his liking, he reached under his pillow for the two gems he kept tucked there. He held them in his palms, letting their energy flow from one to the other and back again.
The whistle came back.
Hunter remembered when he first started hearing the whistle, how initially it seemed to only happen outside, and the only reason he noticed it at all was due to how close it always seemed to be. But then he began to hear it indoors, and asked around a couple of times if a bird had flown in. Everyone always said no. A few would look around the ceilings to confirm, then after a while, most people suspected it to be a strange prank of some sort. But the whistle came, here and there. And that’s when it clicked in him.
He reached back for his laptop, bringing it under the covers before turning it back on. No, it may not be the most high profile topic on the planet, but it was honest. And maybe he was taking a risk in sharing this detail about him. They might not let him in because of it. Apparently research about mental illness was worth more than experience with it, as far as doctors were concerned. He shook away the thought, determined to at least write it down while he had the drive to do so. If they rejected him, then at least he could say he tried. He might regret it for the rest of his life, otherwise.