Chapter Text
Isak is thirteen when his father hits him for the first time.
It all happened so quickly – one moment, he was complaining about missing the comforting, all-encompassing warmth of his mother’s arms, the next feeling a very different kind of warmth; a spreading, burning sensation across his cheekbone, bordering the sensitive skin beneath his left eye. Isak’s not entirely sure if the blurring of his vision comes from the pain, or from the betrayal.
His father is frozen, hand still raised and fingers still parted, almost as if he’s deciding whether to apologise or to do it again. His mouth hangs wide open, the sickening stench of beer wafting towards Isak’s nose, which he crinkles in disgust. And despite being taught at school about manners and respecting your parents, Isak turns his back to his father without even dignifying him with a response and calmly walks to his room, even going as far to slam his door shut slightly louder than usual.
As he turns the lock, however, his tough facade shatters, wobbly legs threatening to collapse under themselves and hands shaking uncontrollably as he frantically rushes towards the balcony, eager to be as far away from that monster in the living room as possible.
Usually, he detests how his room is the closest to the highway – being the light sleeper that he is, the constant, obnoxious roaring of car engines is enough to keep him up all night long – but now, he’s almost grateful for the noise, thankful that his pathetic sobs and hiccups are covered by reckless speeders and motorbikes.
Folding his knees to his chest, he curls his fingers into tightly-balled fists and buries his face into the coarse fabric of his trousers, snot, tears, spit and all. He just wants to be as small as possible, just wants to disappear from the world for just a little. For as long as he lives in a universe where he’s not allowed to go see his darling mamma because she’s “not stable enough”, or where his father slaps him because he’s too inebriated to think clearly, Isak doesn’t want to be a part of any of it.
“Psst. Psssst. Are you okay?”
His head shoots up so quickly, he almost gives himself a severe case of whiplash.
“W-Who’s there?” Isak manages to squeak out. His heart is beating so rapidly, he can practically hear its unsteady beat thumping on his eardrums loud and clear.
“Halla, it’s your conscience. We haven’t spoken for a while. How are you?”
Scrunching his nose and narrowing his eyes, Isak quietly gets up from where he was sitting on his balcony floor, resting both his elbows on the top of the handrail and setting his chin lightly on the back of his palms.
“Ha ha, very funny. Seriously, who are you?”
Nothing could possibly prepare him for the grinning face that suddenly springs into his view.
Startled, Isak backs away from the edge swiftly, and his clumsy, useless feet would have embarrassingly tripped himself backwards, if not for his quick reflexes. His hands tremble, desperately clutching at his door frame for dear life and he thinks that he’s quite possibly shaved off a good five years of said life.
“Super sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” says the mysterious voice once more, but this time, Isak is more preoccupied with the thought of oh my god this is the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen to worry about his feeble heart.
The boy has the prettiest eyes Isak’s ever seen, all wide and innocent and framed with the most delicate of lashes. Isak thinks that he could almost drown in them, completely enamoured with its pale cornflower hue and hey, is that a speck of grey he sees in th–
Right, the boy is probably waiting for Isak’s response. And here he is, gawking at his (gorgeous) face like a complete idiot.
“That’s ok-ay!” Isak almost screeches, voice wavering slightly on the last syllable because of course it would, this universe hates him.
But maybe his voice cracking isn't such a bad thing, because the boy’s concerned expression breaks into a relieved smile. And god, if Isak didn’t already think that the boy was absolutely breathtaking, he definitely does now. He didn’t realise teeth could even be considered cute? Why is the boy’s sharper-than-usual canines so cute?
“I’m glad to hear that!” the boy chirps, stretching his arm across from his own balcony, “My name’s Even! It’s nice to meet you!”
Isak hesitantly shakes Even’s hand, suddenly feeling shy and gross about touching someone who looks so pure and ethereal and oh no, he’s zoning out again.
“– so I was thinking, ‘Hey! Why not try and cheer him up?’ And then you asked me who I was, and I wasn’t even thinking, I just blurted whatever came to my mind first, and Else and I were watching Finding Nemo, so I had that quote at the front of my mind, and I just– Sorry, but did you know that Finding Nemo was the highest-grossing G-rated film of all time before Toy Story 3 overtook it? I’m so disappointed, like it’s a cinematic masterpiece that raises important issues like–“
Isak is thoroughly overwhelmed. Yet somehow, he doesn’t quite mind Even’s ramblings about films. There’s a special kind of sparkle in his eyes when he speaks, almost as if the passion in him is at maximum capacity, spilling into his voice and exaggerated hand gestures. Isak doesn’t even realise he’s smiling until his cheeks begin to ache a little.
“Isak!” Thump, thump, thump.
The smile instantaneously drops from Isak’s face, and Even pauses mid-speech, lips slightly parted.
“Isak!” Thump, thump, thump. “Who’re you talking to?”
Turning to face his door, Isak shakily replies, “My conscience, I’m speaking to my conscience.”
The door handle quivers, as his father tries to force his way into Isak’s room, but the lock stubbornly does not budge. He eventually gives up after a while, muttering under his breath something about how everyone in this god damn family is fucking crazy.
As his footsteps begin to fade away, Isak nervously steals a glance at Even, who’s staring blankly at him. Great, does his father have to ruin everything in his life? Now all Even’s going to think of whenever he looks at Isak is how messed up his family life is, and that he wants nothing to do with him, and Isak doesn’t blame him because hey, if he had a choice, Isak wouldn’t want anything to do with himself either! And–
Even bursts into a sudden fit of laughter, eyes squeezing shut and hands clutching at his forehead.
Isak feels oddly offended, somehow.
“Y-You… You said- You said you were speaking to your conscience! Oh my god, that’s amazing, I-I can’t believe you said that, Jesus, that’s iconic,” Even howls in-between shallow breaths, and Isak can’t help but allow the corner of his lip to twitch in an upwards smile.
“Shut up, you said it first,” he mumbles, cheeks flushing and ears glowing a bright red. He crosses his arms firmly, self-conscious and determined to stare at the balcony floor instead of Even. But he sneaks little peeks at Even’s giant grin when he thinks that the other boy isn’t looking, because sue him, he’s human too and very, very weak for Even’s god-crafted facial features.
Wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, Even hums, leaning the side of his (so beautiful!) face into his (also beautiful!) knuckles. His smile is different now, soft and gentle and sweet. And the way he’s gazing at Isak– It prompts another round of furious blushing, and Isak kind of wishes that his balcony would just crumble right this instant, plummeting his helpless body towards a sweet, sweet death. (But not really)
“W-What is it,” Isak stammers, eyes darting from Even’s (super cute!) face to the highway to his pale yellow curtains, and slouching, curling into his crossed arms like the insecure little shrimp that he is.
Even shrugs dopily, never once removing his gaze from Isak.
“Nothing,” he dreamily murmurs, “I’m just watching the most beautiful film in the world. Wanna watch with me?”
And okay, Isak’s reached his maximum blushing capacity. He absolutely does not need this right now.
“Bye, Even,” Isak squawks, rushing into his room and hastily closing his balcony door a little louder than he intended. Just as he’s about to draw the curtains, however, he sees Even’s huge, goofy grin and god, if he doesn’t get to his bed right this instant, he’s going to fall over because he is weak in the knees.
But the barrier between them does give Isak a sudden boost of confidence, and without really thinking, he bashfully waves at Even with a tentative smile from behind his curtains.
And if Even nearly smashing his jaw onto the balcony handrail in reaction to that is an indication that he’s just as awkward as Isak is, well, that makes his heart beat just a tiny bit faster than usual.