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Language:
English
Series:
Part 3 of Skam Week
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Published:
2020-04-18
Words:
1,468
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1/1
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12
Kudos:
312
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balconies and cigarettes

Summary:

“Why are you sitting on there?”

“Why aren’t you?”

“That’s not an answer.”

Even sighed, closing his eyes shut and allowing the cold breeze to enter his lungs.

“Feels good to not want to die.”

---

Fic for Skam Week

Work Text:

The smoke billowed out from between his far too dry lips, leg dangling down the side of the balcony as Even looked out into the night, lights of the city sparkling in the darkness.

He tapped the cigarette, the ashes falling right beside the chair that he chose to ignore, instead opting to sit on the edge of the concrete railing. Perhaps it was the pure sense of danger he craved, the feeling of closeness to death. It would only take a small tilt, a split second of poor attention, and the gravity would drag him down, send him tumbling down until the world went quiet.

But that never happened, no. He never allowed his attention to waver, his mind was always on high alert, body never allowing itself to lean to the left even slightly. Even presumed that’s exactly why he loved the spot. He was choosing to stay right where he was, not to fall. 

His sigh echoed in the late hours, eyes closing for a second before they opened, focusing on the streets on the other side of the road.

Empty. 

The wind blew for a moment, strands of hair falling down his forehead as he took in another breath of the smoke, his lungs filling with it as his tongue was covered in the taste of tobacco, his fingers cold from smoking for far too long. 

He knew it was his own fault he was awake. His sleeping schedule had suffered greatly ever since he decided to start working on a commission which had taken up the majority of his time. A drawing that required much more diligent work and detail than he was used to, and it seemed as if his mind simply wouldn’t let him rest. It needed to be perfect. 

And so he stayed awake, the night offering a semblance of peace from the usual ruckus he heard coming from the apartment next to his own during the day.

He wasn’t surprised, not at all. After all, the neighbour had only just moved in, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating when Even craved the silence he was used to and all he could hear was the banging against the walls and the curse words being thrown around by, what he presumed to be, a rather angry man. 

And so Even stayed awake. Allowing his mind to whirl and fingers to glide over the canvas as he brushed away the remains of the eraser he had left behind when trying to get rid of the mistakes he had made.

The wind blew once again, his cigarette extinguished in the ashtray on the railing before him. The sigh he let out created a haze before him, the fog disappearing within mere seconds, and that’s when he heard it. A soft voice speaking to his left. Hushed words and slippers sliding on the floor.

He heard a door slide open, his head moved to the side and his gaze focused on the sliver of light shining out onto the balcony, right where a chair and a small table resided, plants surrounding the corners of it, a light put onto the wall right above the glass door.

His expectations weren’t high. In his mind, his neighbour already painted a clear picture. Late twenties, possibly thirties, judging by the mere amount of anger that resided within him, most likely an office job, a few good friends, no girlfriend judging by the fact that so far there had been no pounding of the headboard against the wall. Tall, muscular, a shaggy appearance and a patchy beard, dark circles beneath dark eyes.

That’s what Even was expecting as he grabbed another cigarette from the packet, about to place it between his lips when a figure appeared from the apartment. His hand stuck in the air, halfway to his mouth, he glared at the person. At the  boy . Because that’s all he was, just a boy, couldn’t be a day over the age of 17. His curls were ruffled, blonde and covering his forehead, pointing in all directions as if he had been rolling around in his bed for far too long. His body, however, was covered; a thick, grey blanket was wrapped around his shoulders, hiding whatever it was that he was holding to his chest, the hidden object revealed by the obvious lump.

The boy looked up at him, breathing hitching as wide eyes trailed over Even’s form, his brows furrowing as he looked at where exactly Even was sitting, gaze following the cigarette being placed between his lips, the lighter lighting it within seconds.

“What the fuck?”

Even frowned at the indignant squawk, leg starting to swing once again as his neighbour tumbled into the chair placed in the corner.

“What?”

“You’re going to fucking fall, holy fuck.”

The brazen words were sounding far too harsh coming from a creature with such soft features but Even couldn’t help but smile.

“Don’t worry about me,” He grinned as the boy scoffed, settling down and getting comfortable, and just as Even was about to speak, perhaps finally introduce himself, he saw the bundle beneath the blond’s blanket move. “What you should worry about is whatever the fuck is hiding underneath that thing.”

The boy scoffs once again, the sound even more endearing than before as Even was finally able to see every line of his face from where the blond is sitting.

“She is not a thing,” His voice was calm, almost offended, but there was a soft smile pulling on his lips as he moved the blanket, allowing a tiny head to peak through. Even couldn’t help but smile at the sight, fingers itching in desire to reach over and scratch the cat behind her ears. She was a pretty little thing, wisps of white hair protruding from her round cheeks, her eyes sharp and focused, ears flicking to the side as she seemed to stretch where she was resting on her owner's chest right before she snuggled back into it, the boy covering her up with a blanket, not before he pressed a kiss to her head. Even’s heart warmed at the sight. 

“Is she the one that’s been making all the noise then?” Even inhaled as he spoke, feeling a pang of guilt when the blond looked at him with wide eyes.

“I-I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, fuck. I had no idea it would be so loud,” He sighed, leaning back and lifting his legs up, the cat meowing at the sudden movement as the boy placed his legs on the table in front of him, crossing them at his ankles and leaning back in his chair. “It’s been a whole mess, this moving thing, I wasn’t very organized when I packed so everything’s all over the place.”

Even hummed, nodding softly as a shiver ran down his spine, the cold air making goosebumps rise on his skin.

A few seconds of silence had passed, his neighbour starting to tremble already from the cold, cheeks and nose turning red.

“Why are you sitting on there?”

“Why aren’t you?”

“That’s not an answer.”

Even sighed, closing his eyes shut and allowing the cold breeze to enter his lungs.

“Feels good to not want to die.”

He regretted the words the moment they parted with his lips, but his expression did not give it away, nor did he look to see at the boy’s reaction. He did not think he could bear the pity he would surely see in his features.

“Hm,” The boy hummed, the purrs of the cat beneath the blanket far too loud in the cold dead of the night. “I get that.”

Even’s head turned, gaze focused on the blond’s thoughtful expression.

“Do you now?”

A nod and nothing more.

“Okay then.”

He would’ve said more, something to keep the boy right by his side, but it seemed as if the night wasn’t on his side as his neighbour trembled in the cold.

“Fuck, I’m going inside, this shit is unbearable.”

Even simply hummed as he watched him get up, careful not to jostle his pet far too much.

“Goodnight, kitten,” Even said with a smirk, almost laughing when the boy turned towards him swiftly, cheeks turning red as his lips parted.

Even merely arched a brow. “I’m talking to the cat.”

“O-Oh,” He gulped, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I knew that, y-yeah. Makes sense.”

Even nodded, a grin taking over his face as he watched the boy turn towards the door.

“I’m Even, by the way.” He said suddenly.

“Isak.”

Isak.

The seconds ticked by and he stood from the spot, picking up the ashtray and finally trailing off into his apartment where his canvas awaited him.

A spark of inspiration was finally lit within him.

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