Matt almost misses what's happening out in the other room, distracted by the pain stirring up from the stubborn wound in his side and the way his legs tremble when he tries to straighten up. But he hears Foggy calling after the boy, who runs with loud footsteps after other kids, and Sister Thomas calling after them, the creak of the door and the thump of it closing again, muffling the voices of the children and the nun.
If he's going to reveal himself, now is as good a time as ever. The momentary silence and privacy won't last forever, and Foggy was just about to walk out the door a minute ago.
Selfish. He should go lie down again. He's not sure he can actually walk over to Foggy like this. He's better off without you. He hates how true it is and the sting that crushes his throat. He definitely won't be able to stand if he gets worked up. Deep breath. Matt forces the air into his lungs and just like that tears sting his eyes.
Holding them back, he tries to hold his breath but it only aggravates his physical pain. He misjudges where the edge of the doorway is, hoping to get a grip on it to stay upright, and his elbow collides with the wall with a bang that seems deafening in the quiet.
God, he's weak. He's so weak. "Fo-Foggy," his voice seems to have a life of its own almost as it escapes his lips. "Foggy." He leans hard on the cane and clutches the doorframe as he rounds the corner to call to him.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-11-06 04:53 pm (UTC)If he's going to reveal himself, now is as good a time as ever. The momentary silence and privacy won't last forever, and Foggy was just about to walk out the door a minute ago.
Selfish. He should go lie down again. He's not sure he can actually walk over to Foggy like this. He's better off without you. He hates how true it is and the sting that crushes his throat. He definitely won't be able to stand if he gets worked up. Deep breath. Matt forces the air into his lungs and just like that tears sting his eyes.
Holding them back, he tries to hold his breath but it only aggravates his physical pain. He misjudges where the edge of the doorway is, hoping to get a grip on it to stay upright, and his elbow collides with the wall with a bang that seems deafening in the quiet.
God, he's weak. He's so weak. "Fo-Foggy," his voice seems to have a life of its own almost as it escapes his lips. "Foggy." He leans hard on the cane and clutches the doorframe as he rounds the corner to call to him.