“I dont- I dont,” He fumbles over his words, gripping onto the sleeve of your sweatshirt as tears stream down his face. His breathing catches in his throat for a moment, preventing any and all possible oxygen entering his lungs. He finally gasps harshly, choking out a cough before he turns to bury his face against your chest. The only comfort he’d have now.

“I dont know what to do, where to go.” He couldnt get adopted since he was already 18, but the both of you were still in high school.