“Where did you go?” he said.
“Nowhere.”
“You scared me.”
They stood there like that for a long time, staring at each other. Martin wanted to bury his face in Seb’s neck and hold on, but he had no idea how to make any of what happened better. “Are you hungry? We need some food. I could order a pizza?”
A muscle twitched at the corner of Seb’s mouth, like he was trying to rally the troops to smile, but that was as far as it went. “I think I’m just going to go to—”
“No.” The ice that had formed in Martin’s chest stabbed at him. “No, Seb. You’ve got to eat. You need...” His protest died in his throat. He watched, powerless, as Seb went to the living room and lay down on the couch, face in the cushions.
“Seb.” Martin tried again, but Seb’s hands came over the back of his head, covering his ears. It hurt to see him like that. It hurt to remember Martin had done the same, desperate to block out everything around him.
“Seb. Look at me.”
It didn’t work. He knew it wouldn’t.
