Work Text:
“I stored up the purest words
for making new silences”
—Alejandra Pizarnik.
Andrew Minyard has never been good with words. He’s always been a man of action, always choosing to express his affections in his own terms; with his tough love languages and crooked ways.
Andrew has never been good with words. They always come out wrong, or as silent and uninterested nods, or in the shape of a mean, half-hearted laugh. His I love you 's turn into I hate you 's the moment they slip out of his mouth, as if the words had a life of its own. One that Andrew had no control over.
But for Neil Josten, he would try.
Neil has shared every piece of him with Andrew, blurting out confessions and promises when he least expects it. Sometimes Neil would simply share his favorite color, or suddenly rant about how badly he hated choco mint ice cream. But on the bad days—the ones where the past would engulf Neil whole—, he’d share the dreams he had as a child, or his escapades in some little german town. Andrew can tell this is Neil’s way of reminding himself his present is different, that his future promises little glimpses of light instead of the cold darkness Neil had grown so accustomed to see.
Though Neil seems—has confessed over and over again—to be happy with the ways things are, with the unspoken oath between them, doubt constantly creeps into Andrew’s deepest thoughts.
It terrifies him.
The goalkeeper fears Neil will get tired of his rough edges, that perhaps he will start thinking Andrew doesn’t care as much as he does. That Andrew doesn’t love in the way Neil does anymore.
So Andrew decides to fix the problem, just like he always does with everyone else’s struggles. Except this is harder. Andrew has never dealt with his own issues. He just pushes and buries them so deep no one will find them until they overflow and burn in his chest, pulling at his heartstrings so hard Andrew thinks he might die.
One Friday morning, he tries to say something—anything—during breakfast, but only a blunt, “You idiot junkie,” comes out of his mouth after Neil nearly burns the house down in his attempt at making pancakes.
I could write him a letter, Andrew thinks later that night, and then he spends the following weeks staring at a blank piece of paper and feeling like an incompetent fool.
He is not a quitter. However, one Monday afternoon he feels so frustrated he considers giving up. But giving up also means giving up Neil, so he tries and tries and tries again. And then he remembers exactly what he should be looking for.
Maybe Andrew can steal somebody else’s words to convey everything he needs to tell Neil until he is ready to pour his heart out with his own voice.
Andrew finds his old poetry book buried in his closet. Its blue cover is ruined and dusty, and the pages have been yellowed by the passage of time. It's been years since Andrew last held the book in his hands, and yet it seems to offer the same sense of comfort it brought to him so long ago. He was just a kid back then, but he knows this book has everything he needed hidden in its pages, with his favorite words clumsily highlighted and its pages’ corners filled with his own scribbling.
He leaves it on his boyfriend’s side of the bed, with a sticky note on top that simply says:
For Neil.
——
When Neil reads the book later that night, the first highlighted words shine like stars before him.
«Don't forget your eyes
because I inhabit them»
And for the first time, Neil Josten starts to believe that perhaps he doesn't hate his reflection anymore.