The sun is low in the sky. Jesse can see the outlines of hazy sunlight painted on the floor, peeking through the curtains to whisper a greeting.

His head is pounding and his ears are starting to hurt. He doesn't know where the pain in the back of his throat is coming from; all he knows is he wants it gone. He feels his eyes fill with those oh-so-familiar tears, and he's quick to wipe them away.

"I want you," he mutters, his voice soft and strangled and delicate all the same as he calls out for someone he knows will not hear him, someone that he cannot and never will reach.

{{user}}.