Finding The 抖阴社区 Words

"You don't have to move out, Virgil, sweetie."

"I know, gran, but it's time."

She made a noise of sadness and pulled him close in a hug. He stiffened in her grasp, unused to the contact, but didn't pull away. It was nice, even if it was unwanted. The warmth of her enveloping him and holding him close. He wanted to live in her warmth forever, to never leave the home he had loved for the last eleven years of his life, but he knew that it was time. It was a part of growing up.

Sure, he could stay here for a couple more years, save up some more money, but he knew that if he did, it was only a matter of time before he got too used to the comfort. And he would never leave. He would never grow as a person, would never grow up.

He found a studio apartment near the college a couple towns over. It wasn't ideal - he knew it was going to be pretty loud, and heavy with foot traffic with al the students, but it was cheap housing, and he was offered a job in stock that paid more than target did at a warehouse in the area. At least he would be able to save up until he found some sort of job in writing.

He would have to find a new therapist, and that was something he really wasn't looking forward to, but there was no way he was going to have the money for gas to drive the hour to Dr Picani's office every week. Hell, there was no way he was going to have the money to get a car. His grandma had had to drive him and all his belongings to his apartment.

The warm tingly feeling in his arms had been even more insistent the last few weeks, but he had refused to look. Three soulmates was so much worse than one.

Three soulmates would break him apart three times as much as one.

Three soulmates would ruin him.

In the first month of the summer, Virgil spent a majority of his time either at work, writing, or doing his very best to make his rundown cramped apartment more like home. He didn't get much sleep. He never had, truth be told, but he got even less now that he was on his own.

His grandma had always insisted on him heading to bed at a reasonable time - staying awake until he did so.

The worst part of the house wasn't the leaky faucet that dripped nonstop, or the strange stains in the carpet that no amount of soap and scrubbing could get rid of, or even the constant thumping from the neighbors above him. It was the closeness of it all. There were so many people around him.

He didn't feel safe.

What if someone busted into the apartment, breaking down the door? He suspected it would only take one solid kick and the flimsy lock on it wouldn't be able to hold anymore.

He couldn't turn out the lights.

There could be someone there.

There were so many creaks and groans in this apartment, even when he was completely silent. The first few days on his own he tried to just go on as if everything was normal, but as soon as the lights were out, he was plagued by a constant worry that there was someone standing right beside him and he just couldn't see them in the dark.

He stood in the bathroom doorway, towel in one hand a fresh pair of clothes in the other. In the month he had lived here, he had done everything to avoid looking at himself.

To avoid looking at the ink on nearly every inch of his skin.

It had been a month of showering only when absolutely necessary, and either avoiding looking down or closing his eyes altogether. A month of brushing his teeth in the kitchen sink so he didn't have to look in the mirror above the one in the bathroom.