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alternative model for Noah: pauuulyc on instagram (the image up there, after the video)

"I hope you're not under the impression that you're sane." Morris deadpanned, staring Oasis in the eyes.

"I would've been worried if you reacted differently." the man nodded. "Kent." he squinted his eyes and stared him up and down, lips moving as though he was whispering something.

Morris felt the need to cover his chest with his hands like the girls in cartoons when they're walked in on.

"25... Aren't you a little old to be going for my little brother?"

Turns out there was something in their genes that gave them the rare capability to leave Morris speechless.

He gawked at Noah, who was propped up by a huge pillow, blanket up to his chest. He looked weak, not tired, just weak, as he offered a tiny wave and half-assed smirk.

How'd he calculate his age? Why'd he think he was going for Noah? Why'd he be too old, were he to?

"What?" he set on asking.

In turn, Oasis pointedly ignored him and spun to face his brother. He bent down, took hold of the blanket and brought it up and upper until it covered Noah whole, from toes to the tips of his hair.

"They won't find you this way, weakling."

He straightened up and darted Morris a suspicious look over his slumped shoulder. Then, he moved backwards to the door, eyes constantly on Morris, and left.

Morris finally let some breath out of his lungs and looked at the lumpy blanket. He approached with slow, steady steps and sat on the edge of the mattress, staring at the floor.

He heard faint rustle, and looked aside to watch Noah emerge from his cocoon into a sitting position. The fluffs of hair faded out into the whiteness of the pillow, and his eyes were wide, pupils red from the obnoxious neon.

His face broke into a wide grin.

"Remember when you ran away and I got on my knees and begged you not to leave because I'd go berzerk?" he asked in a sing-song tone.

"What..."

"Well, you left me anyhow and the days got worse and worse and now you see I've gone completely out of my mind."

"Vin."

"And they're coming to take me away, ha-ha, they're coming to take me away, ho-ho he-he ha-ha to the funny farm where life is beautiful all the time, and I'll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats and they're coming to take me away ha-haaa!"

"I wanna go home." Morris whispered. [link to the melody is up there (Napolen XIV they're coming to take me away)]

Noah let the grin slide back to the hell it came from and instead offered a tiny, bitter smile.

"You entered the room with the attitude of visiting a madman, so I give you madman."

With that, he proceeded to cock his head, cross his eyes, scrunch up his nose, expose his black braces and start clattering his teeth as though he was biting the air. He successfully looked adorable.

Morris laughed loudly. "Keep pulling faces and you'll get stuck like that."

Noah quit the look. "Hypocrite."

"What? I'm not pulling faces."

"Oh, so that's how you normally look." Noah covered his lower lip.

Morris snickered, resisting the urge to push at his shoulder. For all he knew, anorexics were breakable.

"I take it you're feeling well?"

Noah toyed with the blanket, glancing at the window. Well, the curtain over the window.

"I've had a 1 meter long tube shoved up my nose in order to vacuum my stomach's contents. How do you think I'm feeling?"

Morris knitted his eyebrows. He took the paper bag from where he'd placed it on the mattress and put it on Noah's lap.

"Hungry, perhaps?"

Noah parted the opening of the back and peeked in with disinterest.

"Not really."

"Come on. You're old enough to 'eat everything on the plate'." Morris interlocked his hands and bit his lip, thinking back on Oasis's comment. "Right?"

Smooth.

Noah dully glanced at him. "I'm 19."

"Oh what, stop."

The guy rummaged through the contents of the bag, then placed it aside. "I don't want your free candy, old stranger."

Morris snapped out of his daze. "You have to." he took the bag and placed it back on Noah's lap. Noah tsked.

"Who do you think you are? What are you even doing here? The video is out, mustn't kiss my butt anymore. Or is this another HR duty to get some more brownie points?"

"Noah, calm down for a second!" Morris exclaimed. "What's this all of a sudden?"

"Last time we met I was like a piece of gum on your shoe and now you're about to breast-feed me!"

"Jesus, Vin." Morris whispered. "I was rightfully mad at you for what you've done. Now that I know what effect it had on you, I wish to quit the crap and forgive you."

Noah flared his tiny, raised nose.

"Aww." Morris couldn't help it.

Noah's eyes widened and he slumped on the big pillow, quitting the attitude.

"Now, would you eat?"

He shook his head. "I just don't feel like eating." he placed a palm on his stomach. He was wearing an XL black pullover, and judging by the pants on the armchair, Morris wouldn't pull the blanket off.

Morris took hold of his wrist and raised the thin sleeve as much as he could in order to circle his upper arm with his thumb and middle finger.

"Do you think this is okay, Vin?" he asked peacefully.

Noah watched Morris's finger loop slide down his arm until it got to his wrist. He went to let go, but Noah took hold of his hand and rested them on the mattress.

With his free hand, he reached for the bag to take out a cheese bagel, on which he silently started to nip.

"Atta boy."

Noah's eyelid twitched.

"Right." Morris started massaging his hand finger by finger. It was okay until one of them popped.

He dropped the hand as though it caught fire.

Noah laughed crumples out of his mouth and raised his knees until the blanket offered sneak peak of milky thighs.

"Wait until you hear the rest."

With that, he popped his shoulders and neck and Morris was close to becoming a chicken, what with all the goosebumps.

"Ok you can stop please stop!"

Noah snickered and took another bite of the bagel. By then, his legs were visible, one of them raised to support his chin while the other was sprawled randomly. He chewed away, lumps rolling beneath his cheeks, until the moment he grimaced.

"I can't finish."

It was halfway eaten. Morris patted his knee. "Two more bites, buddy."

Noah rolled his eyes but obeyed nonetheless.

"Now, take this." Morris fished out a little box from the paper bag along with a water bottle. "It's sleeping pills. Once you wake up call me and I'll drive you home."

He handed Noah the pill and then the water. Noah downed the tiny thing and rubbed at his eyes the way he often times did because of lights.

With that, he sneaked under the blanket and lied on his side. Morris grinned and took the blanket, covering him whole.

"They won't find you this way, weakling."

"Get the fuck out."

Shirt striped with two shades of brown, tucked in. Black, slim suspenders matching the pants, shoes and handkerchief in the chest-pocket. His sleeves went down to his wrists, around which they were closed with fancy cuff buttons of rust color.

That's right. Morris was back and ready to rock. In the elevator.

Why? Because he's had a realization. He made all that fuss about having been broadcasted dancing, when other people deal with problems so much bigger! Say, addictions or addicted friends.

The doors slid close behind him and he frowned at the mirror.

What if Noah had died three days ago? What if he will? It just wasn't healthy of him to live on so much coffee and cigarettes. To top it off: anorexia.

Morris took out his phone and dialed his friend's number.

"Two pancakes walk in a dessert, one spills its jam."

"... and?"

Morris broke into a fit of laughter, biting his favorite thumb ring which he chose to wear today. Dark silver, matching his necklace clock.

"There's more! The pancakes' two brothers walk on a highway, the first one says squish and the other says squish. Get it?"

"Not one bit."

"Like, cars ran over the-"

"Morris I'm barfing inwardly."

"Which reminds me! Meet me for lunch."

Noah scoffed, waited a few moments and Morris could picture him rubbing at his eyes.

"Sure, Kent."

"Ok, see you later alligator!"

"Go dance in an elevator."

Morris gaped at the comeback, mirror reflecting his shock. After a few moments of silence, he lowered the phone and pierced it with the earphones' plug.

He would damn right dance in the elevator. The cameras had been removed after a word or two from him and so why not? It's not like anything could possibly go wrong.

His song of choice remained Mia's Blame It On The Girls and his moves remained smooth and pretty much ridiculous through their excellence.

Morris was really into it, enough so that when he sensed light entering the tiny room he didn't just stop, but instead did a swift 540 spin to face the- crowd, holy shit.

People gawked and giggled at his groovy self, and he only kept at it because he was in a good mood like that. Why was he in a good mood?

Because Noah was and will be fine.

Well, it's what he thought.

The hand kept clenching the skin stretched over Noah's sucked in stomach. His shoulders were at an uncomfortable angle as he tried to pry away from the arms around him, and his nose was flared despite wishing to stop inhaling the man's smoke-stained breath.

"Nap time..."

i feel just about: voracious, vertigo, vehement aaaand vacancy.

it's just the weather. i hate spring/summer.

Serious stuff: I honestly wish for you to let me know if the last two chapters have been squeaky. I'm in a weird state of mind and so if they seem dull/half-assed to you, let me know so that I pull my shit together.

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