╔══《You don't have to be sorry,》══╗
for leaving and growing up.

       Finn glanced around anxiously, noting the buildings that all looked the same. The more he walked, the more he was convinced he wouldn't be able to find his way home. Trying to think rationally, Finn had decided to walk straight.

       To get home all I need to do is just walk the way I came! He had thought, feeling like a genius. As the air around him grew darker and darker, the buildings becoming more and more unfamiliar, Finn began to panic.

       He always stayed close to home, never venturing toward the bad part of town--his dad's orders. So now that he had somehow stumbled upon the street lined with stores, he had no sense of his direction.

       Luckily for him, it was too early for nightlife to begin. The many bars he had passed on his journey had appeared vacant.

       Looking at his feet, he watched the dirty Nikes kick through falling leaves. Although he was lost, Finn felt free. Out here, where he was a nobody, he didn't have to worry about earning his parents love, or trying to fit into their picture perfect family.

       Finn heavily breathed in the air, smelling a combination of cigarettes, mold, and dirt. Closing his eyes, he took in all the unfamiliar scents. All of a sudden, he noticed a tinge of something else--something clean.

       Finn immediately scrunched his nose, the soapy smell contrasting the filth of the town. Opening his eyes slowly, he looked forward. Sitting no more than five feet away, a person resided.

       Almost instantly, Finn recognized the navy blue sweatshirt. Without saying anything, he wordlessly sat down next to him. The teenager didn't even look over, his head remaining locked on the floor.

       As the wind picked up, ruffling Finn's honey hair, the two silently admired the breeze. The gush gained speed, knocking the hood off the boy's head.

       Instantaneously, the locs' spilled over his forehead, confirming Finn's suspicions on the stranger's identity.

       Neither spoke at all, choosing to remain quiet. Still, Finn saw Corbin's tight shoulders drop ever so slightly, relaxing.

       Taking a second to quickly glance over, Finn did a double take. Plastered on his face like paint on a canvas, deep purples and blues covered his entire right eye.

       Like a panda. Finn laughed before realizing the serious implications of the bruise. stopping abruptly, his eyes never leaving Corbin's face.

       "Is there something wrong with my face?" he questioned after the intense pressure of Finn's stare became too much for the troubled teen to ignore.

       "Well yeah, literally," Finn giggled. Without thinking twice, he reached up and pressed the spot on his face.

       Corbin closed his eyes in reaction, feeling the throb of the bruise. The ache hurt, but Finn's gentle touch felt somehow relieving. It was a touch he had never experienced.

       "I just fell," he lied.

       "You expect me to believe that?" Finn mumbled, continuing to look at him, the two sitting close together, their body's almost touching.

       In the chill of the autumn air, Corbin could feel the heat radiating off the vibrant boy next to him. Everything about him was vibrant: his bright honey hair, his sage green eyes, his fair skin which seemed to glow.

       Corbin shivered up closer into himself, becoming aware of how different he was to Finn. Dull hair, boring eyes, ugly skin.

       "Well yeah, it's the truth," he defended weakly. Finn didn't protest, only looking longingly at Corbin, as if he were looking past his lies and into his soul.

       "It's okay. You don't have to tell me," Finn reassured, "just don't lie about it. I'm good at spotting lies," he smiled sheepishly, letting the conversation fade out.

       "You're a lot better than me," Corbin spoke up after a minute, struggling to find something to say to continue their conversation.

       "What do you mean?" Finn curiously intoned.

       "In school, you seem to be pretty social..." Corbin muttered, keeping his head down and his voice low.

       "Do I really? In school I'm a total loner," he shook his head, disagreeing with Corbin's assumption.

       "You always seem super outgoing though."

       "Ah well, I fake it," Finn laughed, throwing his head back. "In reality, I'm always on the brink of either sleep, or tears."

       "Oh wow. Guess I really didn't know you..." Corbin trailed off.

       Finn didn't respond, peering at the top of Corbin's head. "So, what brings you here?"

       "Why do you wanna know?" Corbin hesitated, knowing the truth was unspeakable.

       Finn just shrugged. "You don't know much about me, I don't know much about you. But we somehow both ended up in the same shitty town on the same shitty road."

       The exhausted teenager looked up, uncurling his legs.

       "I'm just curious what situation led you here. You look like you have a story to tell."

       Breathless, Corbin could only shrug, paranoid that any attempt of speech would result in a sob instead.

       "Parents. You know?" Corbin faltered, his voice weak and shaky.

       Simply nodding his head, Finn responded, "Me too."

       "Huh?" Corbin puzzled, "your dad was nice when I met him."

       "Well yeah he's a good guy. He's really into his work. And he cares a lot for his family."

       "I don't get it...That includes you."

       "No it doesn't. I don't count."

       It was Corbin's turn to stare, confusion engraved in the crease between his brows. "Huh?"

       "You didn't know?" Finn joked, pain seeping into the edges of his voice. "I'm adopted."

       Corbin's eyes widened, having not expected those words to come out of Finn's mouth. "You are?" he gaped.

       "This is, like, common knowledge," Finn laughed heartily. "I look nothing like my brothers', or my parents'!" he huffed.

       "You have brothers?"

       "Dude."

       "Now I feel really stupid," Corbin shrugged, half-smiling. "I guess I really don't know much about you..."

       The more Corbin continued on, mumbling off on tangents to himself, the more Finn's mind defocused. He doesn't know I have brothers. Repeated in his mind on loop.

       He cant play favoritism when he didn't even know they existed 'till a minute ago. He realized, his brain clearing like a fog had lifted over his consciousness. For once in my life, I can be somebody's first choice...

       "Hello...? Earth to Finn," a hand swiped in front of Finn's face, his gaze snapping to the moving object. Immediately zoning in, Finn looked up at Corbin.

       "What's the deal with your brothers," Corbin asked, interested.

       "Don't worry about them," Finn panicked, scared that if Corbin heard enough about them, he might choose them over him.

       "Alright, dude..." Corbin backed off, taking the hint. Glancing back to Corbin's hand, which had been close to Finn's face a second earlier, he remembered the scars.

       Peering, he tried to get a closer look. The scars look bigger... He shuddered. And is that blood...?

       Without realizing what he was doing, Finn gently picked up Corbin's hand, examining the bloodied knuckles. They were screaming for help, raw and irritated. "If you don't clean this up properly, they'll scar even worse, you know," Finn enunciated, speaking without registering what he was currently saying.

       Silenced, Corbin sat in shock. Noticing his mistake, Finn flustered, "Sorry! I didn't mean to point it out."

       "No it's fine...I don't know much about how to treat this kind of stuff..." Corbin whispered into the space between their faces. Becoming aware of how small the distance was becoming, Finn backed up slightly, acknowledging that he was being invasive.

       "I know a lot about it. If you want some help cleaning it up..." Finn suggested slowly. The sun had already gotten lower and closer to the horizon, indicating to Finn that he had only a small amount of time before he was supposed to be home. Still, he offered, because he couldn't quite bring himself to leave the pathetic boy here.

       I can't leave him alone in this part of town, walking around with open wounds. Finn justified. Standing up, Finn stretched his cramping legs before offering Corbin a hand. Looking at it, the unsure boy eyed it up for a second before sighing and grabbing it.

       Pulling him up, Finn stumbled back. Now standing face to face, the difference between the two teens' heights were drastic. Corbin towered over Finn like a predator to prey, but his eyes were kind and tender.

       No signs of aggression crossed his face, the expression remaining neutral. Positive that he wasn't leading a murderer to his house, Finn began to walk away, leading Corbin. The two walked in silence, the only noise being the sound of street life.

       As the night got darker, the more lost Finn became. "Um, Finn?" Corbin spoke up, talking for the first time in ten minutes. 

       "Mmm?" Finn simply replied. 

       "Do you know where we are?" Corbin puzzled, looking around at the unfamiliar houses.

       "Uh...Yeah?" Finn piped, his tone high-pitched in uncertainty.

       "Right...Are you sure?" Corbin peaked over at the lost boy, watching him look around, frantically trying to find any familiar sight.

       "Okay...Maybe I'm a little lost," he admitted, bumping the side of his body into Corbin's. 

       Continuing to wander, Corbin muttered, "I think I know where we are...What's your address?"

       Finn paused, looking around again, "104 Peach Court Lane."

       "I think we gotta go right. If we cut through that field, it'll open up on the other side," Corbin spoke.

       "How do you know that...?" 

       Shrugging, Corbin uttered, "I walk around a lot." Finn simply nodded, understanding what Corbin meant.

       "Okay, I'll trust you." Turning his body, Finn began the journey right, following Corbin's vague instructions. By now, the sun had fully set, adding to Finn's unawareness of his surroundings. I'm already late for dinner. 

       Looking up, Finn stared at the almost full moon. It was so bright that it illuminated the clouds around it. Creepy.

       While walking, the two remained side by side, less than a foot separating them. The grass was slightly wet, squelching under their shoes as they cut through the open field. The wind rushed around them, chilling their bodies.

       After the long hike, they finally reached the other side, popping out at another neighborhood. Here, Finn immediately recognized the houses. "I have a friend who lives here," he cheered, knowing he could easily find his way home.

       "We live pretty close, I'm just one neighborhood down," he hipped, beginning to skip forward. Following, Corbin jogged a step behind, taking in the large houses. They reminded him of his own, white and boring--all looking the same.

       As he looked closer though, the differences were apparent. In almost every house, numerous windows were bright, the lights shining through the glass. If Corbin looked closer, he could even see families smiling and laughing inside. Tv's were on in some, pets barking in others.

       As they passed more and more, Corbin got lost in the windows. Each one was like a snippet of different realities, ones he would never exist in. They were taunting him, teasing him with a life he couldn't have.

       Eventually, they reached the edge of the neighborhood. A single street light sat near the curb, the bulb dull. As Finn passed under it, Corbin's feet stopped walking. With his arms out straight by his side, Finn was balancing on the curb, walking like he was on a balance beam.

       Mesmerized, Corbin could only watch as the yellow light danced on his face. He was smiling, the expression so carefree. For a moment, Corbin had forgotten that Finn was troubled, that he had run away from home out of feeling useless. Right now, Corbin only saw him as the sun.

       Suddenly, the light flickered briefly, and the illusion was broken. Running to catch up to him, Corbin panted heavily. Noticing that they had begun walking into a neighborhood that looked just like the one they were in previously, Corbin knew they were nearing their destination.

       Finn slowed his pace, kicking around at the dirt with his worn-in sneakers. He was clearly hesitant, knowing he was past curfew. 

       Still, he continued forward until they reached a cul-de-sac. At the very end, sat a large house. Up on a slight hill, it overlooked the entire neighborhood. Multiple cars lined the driveway. All the downstairs lights were on. Picture perfect.

       Leading Corbin around to the back, Finn arrived at a large tree with a thick trunk. He tried to avoid looking inside his house, knowing what scene he would see.

       Still, he couldn't help but glance over. The window near the tree exposed the living room, and through to the dining room behind it. Finn couldn't resist looking. Sat at the table were four people laughing and smiling.

       The hearty laugh that belonged to his father was audible all the way outside. His mother was covering her mouth with her napkin while she giggled, like she always did. Vance and Alden had their heads thrown back, mouths open wide.

       Paralyzed by the sight, Finn found that he couldn't breath in. Corbin fished his phone out of his back pocket, noticing that the time read 8:49 p.m.. 

       Despite the burning in his eyes, Finn didn't let a tear slip past his eyelids. Mustering up strength, he turned to the tree. "Sorry, you're gonna have to climb. And try to be quiet, please...Actually it doesn't matter, they won't notice either way," Finn fumed, anger replacing sadness.

       Without wasting a second, he gripped the branches before hauling his body up, climbing his way to his window. Sliding it open, he heaved his body inside. Staring down at Corbin, who hadn't reached for a branch, he motioned with his hand for Corbin to climb, as if he was saying if I did it, so can you.

       Taking a deep breath, Corbin stepped forward and grabbed the same branch Finn did, pulling himself up. Following the path Finn took almost exactly, Corbin reached the open window. Stepping out of the way so he could enter, Finn watched the long legs try to maneuver their way through the opening.

       After a complete minute of struggling, Corbin landed both feet on the floor and stood up to his full height. "That was mildly dangerous," he scoffed, brushing dirt off his black sweatpants.

       "Sorry, not like I can just walk through the front door," Finn sheepishly said. Motioning to the hallway, Finn guided them to the bathroom. Being extra quiet when closing the door, Finn turned to the sink vanity.

       Opening it, he grabbed out all the supplies they had. "This might hurt," he warned, pouring peroxide on a cotton pad. Flinching at the pain, Corbin bit his lip hard. 

       Luckily, the burning sensation died down after a few seconds, Finn having removed the pad before grabbing a washcloth. Drenched in warm water, the cotton relaxed Corbin's tense hands.

       The shorter boy was holding them in his hands softly, as if they were a sacred object that he couldn't risk damaging. Up close, the scars were more gruesome than Finn had been expecting, but he put on a brave face. The last thing he wanted to do was make Corbin leave because he felt judged.

       Reaching over to the sink counter he grabbed a thick roll of gauze. Finn was known for getting into trouble. Getting scuffs on his knees and elbows were so common that Band-aids were almost always adhered there.

       Resting against the wall in his garage stood his skateboard, the reason why he got most of his injuries. Coming home with dirt on his pants was such a common occurrence, that he had started keeping stock of supplies--like gauze.

       Unraveling a small amount, he began to wrap the knuckles intently. Focusing on his technique, Finn's tongue stuck out slightly in concentration. Corbin hadn't spoken yet, besides small mummers in pain.

       Drafting up the stairs, sounds of laughter and talking reached the bathroom. Finn, too busy trying to get the gauze to wrap perfectly, hadn't noticed the sound. Crammed in the small room, with Corbin sitting on the closed toilet seat, and Finn crouched on the floor surrounded with bloodied tissues, Finn wasn't jealous of his family.

       Being excluded was the least of his worries, too engrossed with the boy sitting over him. Sitting back, he admired his handy work. Holding up his hand so Corbin could see, Finn beamed. "I'm basically a professional," he smiled, standing up and stretching his legs.

       Corbin didn't respond, staring at his knuckles. So used to seeing the bumpy scars, he gawked at the bleach white wrap. It almost didn't look like his hand, the cotton-fiber blend was so delicately wrapped that Corbin's throat clenched.

       Breathless, he looked up at the person responsible, Corbin couldn't stop the smile that spread across his entire face. For once, he didn't think of the splotches that covered his face, letting the fluorescent bulbs light up all of his features. 

       Finn wasn't a perfect person, but Corbin saw no flaws in him. Sure his family was currently eating dinner without him, his presence unnoticed. But here--in the bathroom--where the two teenagers were in their own world, Corbin simply admired all of him.

       He counted the moles on his face. He drew his eyes over the perfectly messy hair, and his soft features. He noticed the interesting clothing choice-- that clashed with his warm features--but somehow fit him so well.

       He's so confident in himself. Corbin realized, awestruck by Finn. I've never had a friend before. I've never gotten close to anyone...

       "We can go chill in my room. if you'd like?" Finn initiated, closing the vanity drawer with his foot, nudging Corbin to stand up. "I have a feeling you don't wanna go home quite yet."

       Without wasting a second, Corbin stood up and followed Finn back to the room they came from. I don't know how to be close to someone...but maybe...

       Plopping himself on his bed, Finn stretched out, sinking into the soft mattress. Using his hand, he motioned the taller one to sit down next to him.

       Side by side next to each other, the two stared at the glow in the dark stickers stuck to Finn's ceiling. The room wasn't white and cold, like Corbin was used to. It was lived in, clothes thrown about and childhood artwork hung on the walls.

       The posters covering every inch were questionable in terms of style, but Corbin felt the love Finn put into taping each one up. I can get used to this...

Question of the chapter: do you have any siblings?

╚══《Word count- 3,085》══╝

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