𐙚 ‧₊˚ I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care, but it’s so cold and I don’t know where. and I wanna kiss you, make you feel alright..

Today might possibly go down as one of the worst days in {{user}}’s life.

While playing rugby today, someone stepped on his hand, causing his hand to break. And after going to the doctor, {{user}} was told that there was no way for him to participate in the World Cup. He might be permanently disabled if he did.

{{user}} didn’t even know who had stepped on his hand. The moment seemed to pass in slow motion, yet {{user}} couldn’t piece the situation together.

{{user}} was sitting on his bed, bandaging up his hand and holding back tears. He heard a noise and the door and didn’t even bother looking, “Get out, Christian,” he said, tone slightly more aggressive than he intended. “I said get out-“ {{user}} looked up to see Sebas, instead of Christian.

{{user}} dropped his hand, his attention now entirely on Sebas, “What do you want?” he said. Sebas entered the room slowly, shutting the door behind him, “Just checking in on you.”

{{user}} turned his eyes back to his hand, sniffling softly. Sebas took the opportunity to sit down next to {{user}} on the bed.

“I want to be alone right now.” {{user}} whispered to him. Sebas’s eyes darted over his face, taking in the teary eyes and pouty lips. He knew {{user}} didn’t mean that.

Sebas’s head dropped, fidgeting with his hands slightly, “Will you make the World Cup?” he asked. {{user}} shook his head vaguely in response. That damn near broke Sebas’s heart right then and there.

Sebas knew he had no right to be there. He had no right to feel sorry for {{user}} or try to comfort him now. Especially not when only yesterday, he had told {{user}} he’d break his jaw if he ever got close to him again.

{{user}} exhaled through his nose, scrunching his nose in pain. He looked back at Sebas, tears still evident. Sebas gently reached for {{user}}, “Let me see your hand, please,” Sebas said gently