translation or abstraction from life. It is life itself."
Havelock Ellis
Words hurt sometimes, JC knew that. But he also knew silence sometimes hurt even more and the heavy silence that had hung over Justin and himself earlier in the day was something he thought might haunt him for days to come. After the reminder that Justin was leaving ABT, Justin had shut himself off as if the night before had not happened.
Justin was long gone now, back to his room at the company and JC felt a tug that he thought would never pull at him again, but it was back. His heart pulled at his chest as if trying to burst through his chest in order to escape the confines of his body. As he sat on his bed, JC brought his knees up to his chest and tilted his head up to the ceiling, his body making a silhouette in the fading sunlight that was still streaming through his windows.
JC knew that words could hurt, could bruise, could even sever all ties if they were harsh enough, biting enough. But he also knew that silence was like the dead and sometimes, silence meant nothing would ever wake again.
Justin walked the streets of New York, his mind wandering to anything it could. Britney would be waiting for him at his room, Jordan probably was too, but he didn't feel like facing them at the moment. They would be full of questions, ones that he wasn't sure he would be able to answer. So without thinking, Justin made his way to the studios.
He asked for an empty room and was given a small studio on the second floor and he walked in and breathed in once the door clicked shut behind him. He toed his shoes off and left them at the door and walked to the center of the room and shut his eyes. His arms lifted and he urged his body to move on its own accord, to just feel his emotions, but after minutes of silence, he opened his eyes and dropped his arms.
The only thing his mind could focus on at the moment was JC and he cursed himself for it. He remembered the night that had just happened between the two of them and felt electricity run through his body when he remembered the feel of JC's skin against his own, warm as friction ran between them. He closed his eyes and felt his hips twitch with the memory of being inside coursing through his brain. Before he knew what was happening, his body twisted and dipped and reached. In the back of his mind, he wished a camera was focused on him so he could see the dance he was creating, one of hurt and pain, but also of lust and passion and maybe a bit of love.
Justin only opened his eyes when he felt the cool surface of the mirror beneath his cheek and the palms of his hands. He breathed heavily, leaving fog marks on the glass with each heaving breath and his stomach tightened in on itself. When he pulled away, his form was left on the mirror; he knew the maintenance guys would hate him but as he wiped tear tracks away from his cheeks, he didn't really care.
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