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Honestly he didn’t even know where he was anymore.
All he remembers is that he needed to get some air, he needed to get out. To collect his mind and think of what had happened, process.
He remembers walking, pacing, jogging and then running. Running out of there. Running from himself, from his thoughts.
He only stopped when his chest heaved and his throat hurt. When breathing the cold November hair froze his oxygen.
His breath fogs into little white clouds with each shaky exhale he takes. As he stands staring at the city landscape things come crashing at him once more.
Finally giving up from all the strain his legs give up and he falls backwards, sitting heavily on the bench.
A drip of water falls on his nose.
Flashes of what happened in the past... hours, hit him like a truck.
More little drips fall.
His next exhale gets stuck on his throat, he tries swallowing it down but it just doesn’t. Bowing his head he leans forward, curling on himself. And just like rubber bands being stretched too far the dam breaks lose.
It starts to pour.
The rain falls with so much force that it hurts on his skin, burning each little spot it hits, leaving him freezing.
He sits back up and stares numbly at the floor between his feet.
The water soaks his hair, melting any remaining gel he had on his hair, curling at the ends and making little drops fall rhythmically. His shirt gets drenched pretty quickly, the rain not having mercy whatsoever for his frame, it sticks to his back and chest uncomfortably. He doesn’t mind it. Embraces it even. It cools his face and all the hot, deep and frail emotions he has been running with.
His breath keeps coming out in little hitches.
Leaning farther backwards, his back meets the benches one so he scoots until he’s sure they’re plastered together. He takes sometimes to mindlessly stretch them before bringing a leg up, slowly, one at the time. Squishing himself in a small ball.
He sniffs and tries to clean the water off his face only for his breath to hitch more and more until he’s curling up, resting his forehead on his legs, and then just- he just starts sobbing. Everything just hits me all at once and he can’t hold it anymore.
His breath hitches and shakes as he tries to wipe the tears before more start to leak, he hiccups between sobs and they still don’t stop, they just keep coming and coming and even as tears and rain mix up in one and they’re once again just water, they still don’t stop.
As the rain starts to calm down so do his tears.
Lifting his head up, he looks straight ahead watching with blurred vision the city lights.
Bringing his left hand up he stares at the golden ring that rests at his ring finger. He watches as the lights and rain make it shine. More tears fall silently but a little smile tugs at his lips.
Exhaling a shaky sigh he relaxes back against the bench.
Inclining his head back, he lets it hang, rain falling on his neck and face.
He hears steps behind him.
Soft steps that approach him slowly.
The rain stops falling on his face and down his neck.
“You’re going to get sick.”
The voice says softly.
And even with his eyes closed he would always know who it was.
Gavin smiles at the voice.
He feels Nines lean closer to the bench, resting his functional forearm on the back (the other resting on a sling ) and laying his head on it. Even in this position Nines is able to keep the umbrella over their heads keeping the rain away. Gavin feels the light head bump Nines gives him.
Opening his eyes he faces him, tracing his thumb just under Nines eye he whispers.
“Welcome back.”
Nines takes his hand and smiles.
“I missed you too.”