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There are some memories that make you smile. Memories that, though fleeting and hard to remember, there's a smiling face, the touch of a hand, the sound of a laughter that sticks with you forever.
{Eleven years old. Their lives were yet to merge, but that would soon happen. Neither of them knew what they'd grow to become, together.}
Fitz waited in anticipation as the teacher handed out the test results.
Someone behind him whistled as the teacher handed him his test paper with a fond smile.
"95 out 100? That's nice buddy!" Fitz gritted his teeth as he turned around. It was the boy with messy blonde hair and a dumb grin that seemed to be permanently stuck on his face.
"Yes, I work hard." Fitz shot at him. The kid tilted his head.
"And I don't need to work hard. How many hours did you spend studying for that dumb quiz?" Fitz glared at him.
"Keefe Sencen. Not another word from you unless you want to be outside." The teacher declared, before Fitz could think of a reply.
Keefe Sencen. So that was his name.
"I'd rather be outside." Keefe murmured under breath. Fitz snorted. The teacher shot a glare at him too.
"You too, Fitzroy."
"Fitzroy. What a weird name." Keefe whispered. Fitz frowned.
"You're one to speak, Keefe Sencen." Fitz spoke slowly, turning around slightly. Keefe blew raspberries at him, forgetting that they needed to be quiet.
"Boys." Fitz stiffened and turned to face the teacher, who was frowning at them. The rest of the class, Fitz tried to listen, he truly did, but his mind was too caught up with thinking creative insults to throw at Keefe.
***
Alden frowned at his son, his eyes flashing with disappointment.
"Why aren't you the top student in your class? This wasn't the case last year. I expect more from you."
Fitz shifted his gaze to the dull pattern of the floor, his vision blurring until everything was just a haze of colours.
"I'm sorry father, it won't happen again." Fitz said, his voice on the verge of cracking.
"That's my boy. I know you won't disappoint me again." Fitz nodded and made his way to his room.
He couldn't let the other boy stay at the top of the class. The one with blonde hair who talked a lot.
Fitz took his books out and laid them out in front of him. He wasn't going to disappoint his father ever again.
After all, who would ever love a disappointment?
(As it turned out, Keefe would.)
***
Keefe's snide remarks were declarations of war. Fitz and Keefe had started competing against each other. Every time either of them won, they made sure to rub it into each other's faces.
"Oh, would you look at that. Fitzroy Vacker got a 96. Oh poor him." Fitz clenched his free hand into a fist.
"Well at least I took the test, unlike you. What was wrong, Keefe? Memory failed you?"
"I don't care about a stupid test. I spent my time having fun, while you were here having a miserable time." Fitz stared at Keefe. He could never imagine bunking class. Alden wouldn't let that one go.
Speaking of Alden, Fitz frowned at his paper. His grade had gone down.
"I'd rather study than be a disappointment." Fitz shot back. Keefe's grin melted off his face. Something dark flashed through his eyes, but it was gone in an instance.
"Keefe, Fitz, detention. After school. For a week." The teacher glared at them, hands folded across her chest.
"Ma'am, but-" Fitz started. Fitz's insides twisted, anxiety seeping in the seams.
"No buts, or I'll raise it to two weeks."
No no no no. Not detention. Alden was going to be so upset .
Fitz gritted his teeth.
I'm going to kill Keefe .
Fitz watched Keefe stride into class, then slowly settle in beside him. The teacher that was supposed to supervise them was snoring loudly on the table, as good as a dead man.
Keefe looked at him, biting his lip.
"Hey, look-"
"Can you shut up for once? Because of you, I now have to spend a week after school stuck in detention, all because you can't stop being an ass!" Keefe's eyes widened. Fitz turned away from him and stared at the board.
"I'm so sorry. For insulting you. And being rude to you. I didn't mean it." Keefe admitted, his voice quiet and restrained.
"And I'm sorry too. For doing the same. And screaming at you." Fitz confessed in exchange, guilt echoing through him.
Keefe turned to look at him. Fitz met his gaze. It was the first time he'd ever come so close to Keefe,, and he couldn't help but be struck by the intricacy of his eyes. They resembled the color of the sea on a bright sunny day, and it was the prettiest eye colour Fitz had ever seen.
"Um, peace?" Keefe extended his hand. It took Fitz to stop staring at him and shake his hand.
"But don't think that I'm not going to beat you in the next quiz."
"Yeah, right." A grin made its way onto Keefe's face, but this time, Fitz didn't think it looked dumb at all. It actually looked rather cute.
{Six years with a lot of emotions, angst and filled with yearning years later.}
Biana pressed her lips together, looking down at her phone.
"Dad wants to meet us." Biana said, her voice devoid of emotion. Fitz moved next to her, his heartbeat picking up.
"What do you mean?" Biana held her phone up for him to see.
" I'm in town. I have to talk to you and your brother. Meet me in an hour. " there was the location of a cafe under the text. Fitz glanced at Biana.
"Are we going?"
"I don't think we have a choice. I think we should tell mom about this."
"Mom's at the shop, and he wants us there in an hour, we can call her on the way." Biana fidgeted with her thumb.
"What if…..we ghosted him." Fitz shook his head. Alden wouldn't react well to that.
And maybe, deep down, there was still a lingering fear of disappointment in his head.
"I wonder what he wants to say."
"I don't know." Fitz stood up and extended his hand towards his sister.
"Well, I guess we'll find out."
The cafe was walking distance from their house, and they'd actually been there a couple of times. It wasn't too special, just a cosy little corner on the side of the street.
Della had filed divorce when Fitz was 15. She'd grown tired of everything about Alden, and was repulsed by the way he'd started treating his children as they grew older. That year had been tough, but it was over, and the last time Fitz had seen Alden was over a year ago. Now that he was on his way to possibly get yelled at more, his stomach was filled with butterflies, the kind that ate you from the inside.
Fitz messaged Della about the arrangement and kept his phone in his pocket. They stepped inside the cafe and spotted Alden immediately. His hair was cut short and he had a pristine white shirt on. It seemed that he was capable of suddenly turning the whole cafe an uncomfortable place to be in. He held a cup of tea in his hand.
"Hello children. How have you been?" Fitz and Biana moved towards the table slowly.
When none of them answered, he looked up and raised his eyebrow expectantly.
"We're fine." Fitz croaked out.
"Why did you call us here?" Biana asked. Alden stirred his tea.
"Sit down, we have some things to discuss." So that's how it was going to be, no small talk, no sign that he actually cared about his children. Biana and Fitz exchanged a nervous glance. They settled as far away from Alden as they possibly could.
"Why don't you have a girlfriend, Fitz?" Alden asked, siping on his tea. Fitz stiffened. Biana's gaze shot up, alarm frozen on her face. Alden didn't pay attention to her panicked state.
"I'm not really interested in dating at the moment."
"There are rumours spreading in this town about you."
"What rumours?" Fitz asked, wringing his hands together.
Is this why you asked to meet us?
" Rumours that my children are indecent. Obviously, they aren't true. My children will never bring such shame upon me." Alden lowered his voice. His stare burned into him. Fitz's breath stumbled.
Venom, hidden underneath the honey. When Fitz was younger, he chased after the sweetness, but as he grew older, the lines between them blurred.
Fitz's hand's threatened to shake, but it wasn't from fear, it was the buildup of all the resentment from all the years. The controlling, the manipulation. His vision tunneled.
"And why is it indecent? What's so wrong about love, Father?" A wave of shock washed over Alden's face, before settling back into his composed features. He put the cup on the table and joined his hands together.
"It isn't right. It's against the force of nature. People look down upon it, what more of a reason do you need? Don't embarrass me by asking such stupid questions." He stated, in a sharp and composed voice, which indicated he was trying not to scream.
"The only thing that isn't right is the way you've treated us." Biana's cold voice crept in. Anger flickered in her eyes. Alden swept his piercing gaze towards her, like he was noticing her for the first time.
And what a sight she was. When Biana had started dating Linh and Marella, she had gotten a septum piercing along with two piercings on her ears. Her eyeliner was bold and loud and made her eyes look dangerous. She was everything Alden would have wanted her not to be, and Fitz was filled with an overwhelming amount of pride.
"All I've ever done is raise you as respectable human beings. " Alden said, glaring at her.
"No, you tried to raise trophies. Badges to flaunt. You may have tried to make us respectable, but you never thought we deserve any respect of our own accord." Fitz snapped.
There were a few people in the cafe, and some of them glanced at their table.
Alden stared at his children, anger etched into his features. Fitz felt a pang of fear, the way he used to as a boy. But he didn't let it control him. He sat tall and straight, refusing to break under his gaze.
"It must be so sad that your children are indecent, wouldn't it?" At that moment, Biana's mocking tone sounded exactly like Alden's.
Alden stood up, turning away from them, and walked towards the exit.
Coward.
Fitz walked over to Biana's side, filled with a thousand different emotions he couldn't comprehend. Biana met his gaze, her eyes reflecting the mess inside his head. Ae signed, joining her hands together.
"Hey. He's gone." Biana nodded. There were tears in her eyes, but her fist was clenched.
His sister was a vase made of glass, elegant to look at. But sharp and unforgiving when broken. Biana was made of glass, but somewhere along the line, Alden forgot she had jagged edges.
Cracks that he caused.
Biana ran her hand over the back of her head.
"I think he would've gotten a heart attack at the undercut." Fitz said. Biana smiled slightly.
"That was brave, back then. He needed to hear that." Biana said after a pause.
"No, he needed to realize that."
***
Fitz sat on his bed, his hands shaking. The anger had been drained out, leaving hollowness in its place.
Expectations. Just when he thought he could finally escape, the rope around his neck tightened.
Alden ruined everything good. He would've said he hated him, but it was hard to hate someone who raised you. He wanted to hate him, push his voice out of his head whenever he did something Alden wouldn't have approved of. He'd grown up adoring him and seeking his affection and chasing after him and now he couldn't seem to get rid of him.
Fitz curled into his sheets.
Sometimes Fitz wished he had the strength to break away from them like Keefe could. But the truth was, neither of them had control over their own lives. There were strings, and there were words written on pages waiting to be acted out.
But Keefe was brave. He'd stepped out of his father's control, and Fitz couldn't even get rid of Alden after he'd stepped out of Fitz's life.
"Indecent. Damn conservatives." Fitz groaned. He couldn't believe Alden knew about his identity. Maybe it was because he'd joined the pride club. They'd worked so hard to set it up, but Fitz didn't think that the news would reach Alden.
When he was younger, Fitz never said a word back. He tried everything to be what Alden wanted him to be. but then he grew older, and nothing ever seemed to satisfy Alden. Eventually, his tolerance was exhausted.
Fitz remembered the first time he'd argued back. His body always froze with panic, but he let the anger and the unfairness melt it. He stood up to Alden, and it was terrifying, but it felt so liberating to finally find his voice.
It was hard to remember what it was about. There was a vague description in his mind, a memory about changing schools. But he had stood up to him. He was proud of who Fitz had been that day. And even though he hadn't won the argument that day, he'd won eventually.
{Fourteen, sick and tired of it all. But they were there for each other, and that made everything just a bit easier.}
Another test, another "you could've done better". Another small mistake and a thousand reminders. Another restriction and a "what will people think"? Another argument behind closed doors.
Fitz couldn't give half a damn about what people thought. Yet everytime Alden called him, he couldn't help push down the fear that he somehow found out. Didn't know that Fitz liked boys. Didn't know that Biana had feelings for her best friend. Didn't know that Della was slowly falling for someone else, and she couldn't stand him anymore.
Fitz wanted to scream, let it all out. Yet he had to look at the floor, trying to conceal his numbness. Words repeated too many times lose their meaning, and gradually, the speaker loses relevance too.
"There's a school, a few towns away. It's the best one in the state. Their education standard is better than your current school. And the children are of our class. You're going there next semester." Fitz's head shot up.
"But…" Fitz stared at Alden, who looked back at him expectantly.
"Well?"
"But I can't go." Fitz tried, his thoughts running wild. He couldn't move his whole life. Everyone he loved was here. Keefe, Della, Sophie, Biana, Dex, Marella. It was too much to handle, and his head spun.
"Why not?"
"Because my whole life is here. My friends….I can't leave them." Fitz's voice cracked.
"You'll make new friends. That isn't relevant." Alden said dismissively.
Fitz felt anger rise inside of him. It felt like betrayal, being dismissed and ignored.
"I'm not going." Alden looked up at him. He raised his eyebrow.
"What do you mean?" He scowled. Panic filled his mind, but he pushed it down. He wasn't going to let Alden do this. Not anymore.
"I do not care if their education quality is better, I'm not going to let my whole life be ripped apart." Alden glared at him.
"I'm sorry son, but you're going."
"No! I'm sick of it. Sick of you controlling me, sick of your restrictions!." His vision blurred, until he could barely make out any details, and his hands were shaking, but he wasn't going to give in.
"You're being ungrateful. I do everything for your own good." Alden flared. Fitz shook his head furiously.
"You do so you can have another achievement! So you can show us off, so you can be respected. IT'S NEVER US. It's always you." Fitz raved. Alden stood up, anger burning in his eyes.
"Get out of my sight." Fitz stared at him. He wanted to stay, he needed to fight. Alden clenched his fist in anger.
"I said, get out of my sight!" Fitz stood up and stumbled to his room. He heard the front door slam shut.
(And some memories are the only thing holding you together. Gentle arms around you, a reassuring voice reminding you how much you matter to them.)
As soon as Alden was gone, Fitz collapsed on his bed.
There was hole in his heart, and it widened every time he chased after Alden's approval. The edges were waiting to be dug further, spreading out and taking over him. Fitz knew his father wasn't going to appreciate him. He knew it every time he did something in hopes of being acknowledged. He knew it every time he squashed down his achievements, knowing that Alden would still find flaws. No matter how much he tried, he could never be a person to Alden, just a figure to be sculpted to perfection that he could flaunt, but when he was alone, Fitz was solely the embodiment of his resentment for what he could've done better.
"Fitz?" Keefe's voice called from the other side of the door. Fitz sat up, wondering if he should let him in.
He'll know the flaws. The imperfections. Do you want to let him find out? his mind asked.
Fitz wasn't perfect, but Keefe already knew that. Because there were times Keefe hugged him and tried to cheer him up when the marks on his palms were new, or the bags under his eyes were darker. There were moments when Keefe saw Fitz fall down, but he helped him get up without a word. Keefe was always there, never prying, but Fitz knew he understood, because Keefe knew what it was like.
And Fitz let out a soft come in. Keefe opened the door and his face twisted in worry. He closed it and ran to Fitz's side.
Keefe should've seen what Fitz really was.
Broken.
But Keefe saw molten gold. Maybe it would slosh and fall now, but in a few hours, it would be solid and beautiful.
Because for something to be cast, it needs to be melted first.
Keefe took his shaking hands into his long and stable fingers.
"What's wrong?" And a hurricane broke loose. Fitz unravelled, but Keefe held onto the strings, waiting to put him back together.
Tears pooled in his eyes. Alden had once said that crying was a sign of weakness.
It was a sign of humanity, Keefe said.
And the story was whispered, broken up by quiet sobs. All of it, spilling out. Keefe listened patiently, everything he was forced to do, everything he had to hide. How Alden showed no hesitation in ripping his life apart, even when he objected.
"You stood up to him. You showed him that wasn't what you wanted, Fitz. Don't stop fighting. Don't let him get what he wants. You're brave. And I'm proud of you."
Fitz met his gaze. Keefe's eyes were filled with gentleness. He leaned closer and wrapped his hands around him. Fitz melted into his touch, placing his head on Keefe's chest.
"Thank you for being here. For listening."
"I'll always be here for you, as long as I can. I'll hold you when you need me to, because honestly? I need it as much as you do." Keefe responded, pulling him closer.
"I love you, you know that right?" The words ran through Fitz's head. It was the first time Keefe had said them to him out loud. But Fitz had seen them written in the way Keefe looked at him, or the way he squeezed his hand when he was down. Keefe loved him, and that feeling was better than anything else.
"I love you too." And he meant it. He meant it because there wasn't a moment that passed by that he didn't lighten up at the sight of his best friend. Fitz ached to make Keefe's life better, to heal his scars hidden beneath the surface. But all he could do, and always would, was handle them with gentleness and remind him that even with everything that the both of them went through, he'd always be there for him. And he knew Keefe would too.
Fitz knew neither of their lives were easy, but he felt so grateful that Keefe was here to pull him through. He hoped that he was Keefe's guide too.(but he looked closer, he would see it written in the way Keefe held him.)
Two boys, falling apart at the seams, but when they were wrapped together, something beautiful laid between them, mending their shattered hearts.
Beauty lives in chaos too, after all.
***
Fitz grabbed his phone. Alden wouldn't control him anymore. Let the strings tighten, he'd find a way to snap them eventually.
***
Keefe's phone rang, the screen filled with Fitz's goofy face. A smile immediately made its way onto Keefe's face.
"Hey, Fitzy." He received the phone.
"Keefe! Are you free right now?" Keefe pulled his eyebrows together. Fitz's voice was filled with determination, but it was also laced with frustration.
"I'm always free for you, love." Keefe teased, knowing Fitz would be blushing on the other end.
"Um. Right. Yes. Can you come over please?"
"Yes. Is something up?" Keefe didn't bother hiding his concern. Fitz waited a few moments before responding-
"I'm going to go apeshit. And I would really like you to witness it, darling." With that, Fitz cut the line. Keefe blinked, curiosity creeping into his mind, along with darling bouncing around his head like a ping pong ball.
He fixed his hair and put on his denim jacket.
"This is going to be a ride."
And perhaps it was.
Keefe rang the doorbell. Biana opened the door a few seconds later.
"You must be his assistant in chaos." Keefe nodded solemnly.
"I am thrilled to be given such a position, to be so close to your brother is an honor." Biana snorted.
"Fitz, your boyfriend is here!" Biana screamed. Keefe felt colour creep into his cheeks.
"BIANA!" Biana smiled mischievously. Her expression was strained, her eyeliner smudged a bit at the corners. Keefe's gaze dropped to her palms. Biana's fingernails were bitten to the beds. His insides twisted with worry.
Fitz walked out of his room, glaring at Biana. His warm brown eyes brightened as he shifted his gaze to Keefe.
"Hey boyfriend." Keefe winked at Fitz, who rolled his eyes, but Keefe couldn't help but notice the blush on his cheeks.
"You wish." Biana shook aer head disappointedly.
"Please just get married." She led him to the couch. Linh and Marella were laying on the couch and Biana settled in between them.
"Hey Keefe!" Marella and Linh called out.
Keefe waved briefly at his cousin and his girlfriend.
Della walked into the room. She walked over to Fitz and Keefe. She ruffled Fitz's affectionately and smiled at Keefe.
"How are you?" She asked, biting her lip. Fitz turned his gaze to the floor. Della's expression soured, and she pressed a kiss to his forehead.
"We'll talk later?" Fitz nodded.
"I love you okay?"
"I love you too mom." Della nodded at him, and walked over to press a kiss onto Biana's forehead.
Keefe turned his attention to Fitz, who's eyebrows were scrunched together.
"I'm going to be doing something stupid." He stated.
"Are you going to ask me out?" Fitz blinked.
"Ugh finally." Marella shot, looking up from his phone. Della glanced at them, smirking.
"I've already given both of you 'The talk'." Fitz groaned. He absolutely despised the talk, and honestly, Keefe did too.
"I'm not that insane. Yet. I'm angry. And done with life."
Keefe felt an intense urge to drive Fitz insane. But he also felt a rush of concern, so he focused on that.
"Understandable. What are we doing?"
"You're going to wait and watch."
***
Keefe's idea of going apeshit was confessing to Fitz, putting everything they had at risk. It didn't matter if the attraction was mutual, or how Fitz always leaned into his touches, Keefe always had one rule. Keep him close, but don't you dare get closer. He couldn't even risk losing Fitz. It was too dangerous.
It seemed that Fitz's idea of insanity was picking out the right shade of pink to dye his hair.
"Hot pink?" Fitz asked, holding the box up.
"Oh, trust me you'd look way hotter in..." Keef looked around, before his eyes settled on a particular shade "baby pink!"
Fitz picked up the baby pink dye and stared at it, biting his bottom lip. Keefe did not focus on that. He definitely did not.
"Are you sure?" Fitz asked.
"Did I learn color theory for you to doubt me?"
"What's color theory?" Fitz asked, now looking in the mirror.
"Bloody children's hospitals." Fitz turned towards him, confusion written plainly on his face.
"What?" Keefe grinned. He snatched the box from Fitz and walked up to the cash register. Fitz ran behind him.
"You know, I didn't think Dex would influence you so much, but turns xe has you in a dyeing frenzy too."
"For a second I thought you said dying frenzy." Fitz said. Keefe laughed. Fitz paused and watched him, a small smile making its way onto his face. Keefe locked eyes with him, but turned away at the intense warmth in them.
They walked in silence. Afternoon slowly turned into evening and the sun was slowly sinking down. Summer was just around the corner.
Keefe and Fitz stopped in front of a small but appealing ice cream shop. They exchanged glances.
"Do you-" Keefe started.
"Thought you'd never ask, darling." Fitz cut him off. He walked inside quickly, leaving Keefe to trail him.
Darling. Keefe rolled it around on his tongue. Fitz wasn't very good at flirting, but one word was all he needed to make Keefe flustered. It was a bit unfair. Keefe was supposed to be the endearing one.
Keefe caught up to him. The girl behind the counter smiled at them.
"What can I get for you?" Fitz examined all the flavours, like he was mentally debating which would be the best one to get.
"I'll get chocolate and mint, and my friend here wants cookies and cream." She nodded.
"See you know me so well, it's like we're already dating." Fitz blushed.
"There you go." The girl said.
"Thanks!"
"Hope you gentlemen have a great date." Keefe laughed, watching Fitz redden even more.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Keefe asked when they were outside.
"Inside there?"
"You know that's not what I mean." Fitz pressed his lips together, watching his ice cream melt slowly.
And Fitz started with the text and his miserable morning and Alden . Keefe listened and when he was done, he took his free hand into his own.
"You want to take your life into your own hands. In the ways that you can." Fitz scratched his neck.
"I guess. Hence the pink hair." Fitz gestured.
"Then let's get to it, baby." Fitz laughed. His laugh was infectious, the sound of it made warmth bloom in Keefe's chest.
Fitz turned around to face him. He squeezed Keefe's hand, setting his nerves on overdrive. Keefe wanted to put his arms around Fitz and pull him closer. Hold him until he was alright and tell him how much he loved him.
But he couldn't. Instead, Keefe let go of his hand and smeared ice cream on Fitz's cheek. His brown eyes widened.
"HOW DARE YOU!" Fitz screeched. He tried to lick it, but his poor tongue just wasn't long enough. Keefe cracked up.
Fitz glared at him until Keefe stopped laughing.
"Alright, I'll take it off." Keefe stepped closer and wiped the ice cream off with his sleeve. He let his hand linger there, even though he knew he should move it. Fitz glanced at his hand, then reached up and wrapped his own hand around it. Fitz's lips curled up, in that goofy and smug way that made him look impossibly adorable. Keefe's brain threatened to combust.
Fitz placed his hand on his cheek. He leaned into it, his eyes locked with Keefe's. Keefe's heart malfunctioned.
Keefe wanted this. He wanted this so much, it scared the living shit out of him.
But everytime he saw the look in Fitz's eyes, panic struck him. The possibility of risking all of it was terrifying. Because no matter how right this felt, Fitz's hand in his and his eyes on him, there was always a chance that it wasn't meant to be, and that would break both of them.
But it was even harder to pull away, to shift his gaze to the ground. To watch Fitz's hope melt into sadness.
Keefe glanced back at Fitz, waiting for him to catch up. Fitz didn't meet his gaze.
Maybe his caution broke Fitz more than the fear.
***
"So you're going to dye your hair pink?" Biana asked. She looked like she was trying to visualise Pink-haired Fitz.
"That's mild for 'going apeshit', though it's exciting I guess." Fitz shrugged. Maybe he exaggerated his level of insanity, but Fitz had secretly been wanting to dye his hair for a very long time.
It was just so appealing, the idea of trying out crazy colours and people looking at him with shock. His main concern had been how he'd look after the experiments, but he couldn't care less anymore.
"You need to take really good care of your hair, afterwards though. Bleach is very damaging. It leaves your hair lifeless. Of course, I can teach you proper hair care." Keefe suggested. He was avoiding Fitz's eyes, his smile strained.
Fitz didn't know what to make of his behaviour at times. Sometimes he made him so sure that there was something between them, the touches, the glances lingering for a second too long. But he always pulled away, like it was nothing. Like it was completely normal to passionately stare into your friend's eyes and stand so close to them that they forget how to breathe.
But maybe it was for the better, because if Keefe didn't want him like he did, he probably did it to signify that. Keefe flirted with everyone, and once he got comfortable with you, he didn't hesitate to even tackle you to the ground for a hug. Maybe Keefe was trying, in his own stupid way, to help Fitz get over him.
"Sure." Fitz responded. Biana glanced between them.
"Where's the "we're dating in all senses but officially" energy?" Fitz winced internally. Sometimes Biana's comments really weren't appreciated.
"Maybe it wasn't there at all." Fitz replied. Keefe glanced at him, surprised, before shifting his gaze to the ground.
"Yeah, it wasn't." Keefe added. Biana glanced at them incredulously.
"Yeah right. Have fun dyeing." Keefe snorted. Biana walked away, probably heading to her room.
"So. Where do you want the pink?" Keefe asked. Fitz picked up the box to look at the instructions.
"Everywhere." Fitz said, gesturing at his whole head.
Keefe snatched the box from his hand. Fitz frowned at him.
"I'm the hair specialist." Keefe winked. Fitz shrieked internally. He sighed at Keefe out loud.
***
"I thought you knew what you were doing?" Fitz asked. Keefe winced, staring at the bowl like he had been holding for the past fifteen minutes. He glanced between the two tubes and bit his lip. Fitz shifted his eyes away from Keefe's lips to his confused expression.
"I…may have overestimated my knowledge on this." Keefe admitted, with the slightest trace of guilt. Fitz took a deep breath, looking in the mirror to meet Keefe's eyes.
"Get the box." He ordered.
"A'ight. So glad I didn't throw that away." Keefe got the poor box, which was slightly crushed and torn. Fitz hoped it wasn't fished out of the trash. He read the instructions, and waited for Keefe to follow along. Keefe mixed the bleach.
He put on the plastic gloves, and ran his hands through Fitz's hair. Keefe leaned over his shoulder to reach over and get the bleach, his strong forearm brushing against his neck, warranting another internal scream.
Keefe started working on applying the bleach to his hair. Fitz felt light-headed at the strong smell. After Keefe was finished, they sat around for forty-five minutes, waiting for the bleach to render his hair colourless.
Keefe kept glancing at Fitz's hair, and then at his phone. The third time he did this, Fitz gave him a questioning look.
"I am, uh, trying to picture you with pink hair." Keefe turned his phone towards him. He had Pinterest open, and the search bar had " hot pink haired dudes " typed into it. Fitz had to admit the men were hot. Keefe slid next to him as he scrolled, and Fitz found himself imagining what he'd look like too. But his mind's eye was terrible, so all he could come up with was a blurry rendition of himself that looked lopsided.
Keefe pressed onto one picture of a particularly hot dude and looked at it for a few moments, before saving it in a board called "oh hot damn 😳". Fitz stared at his best friend, on the verge of breaking into laughter.
"Oh hot damn?" Keefe swore under his breath, his cheeks reddening. He looked away, embarrassed.
"I can explain, I swear. They're references. For drawing. I'm an artist, okay?" Keefe rambled, hiding his face now. Fitz cracked up.
"Oh, would you look at that! You need to wash your hair!" Keefe said in a high pitched voice, looking at the time. Fitz shook his head, still laughing.
After Keefe washed his hair–and Fitz had a gay panic because Keefe was unreasonably good at washing hair–he got to applying the colourant.
After that was done, they sat around making jokes. Della came into the room and stared at Fitz, astonished. She asked a lot of questions, and then she hugged him and told him he'd look beautiful with any hair colour. Keefe made a very noticeable effort to back her statement up, grinning in his adorably dumb but endearing way.
Then it was time to wash the colourant out of his hair, bringing on yet another internal panic. Keefe made Fitz sit on his bed to towel dry his hair, because he "needs to be gentle with his hair." It was quite relaxing, and when Fitz closed his eyes and leaned back a bit, he could swear Keefe was watching him.
Keefe let his eyes wander over Fitz's reclined face. His new pink locks fell into his eyes. The pink stood out against his dark skin, but it suited him. The dye job looked a bit careless in some places, which Keefe was definitely to blame for, but every look at him still stole Keefe's breath.
"So, how do I look?" Keefe could've said a lot of things. People of the past would've made a thousand paintings in an attempt to capture his beauty. Keefe would've tried too, although he knew couldn't possibly create something so amazing.
"You look extremely gay." Keefe blurted out. Fitz opened his dark eyes, then dissolved into laughter.
Keefe swore internally.
"I was right, you see. Baby pink makes your skin stand out." Fitz hummed.
"What I mean is, you look…really nice." Keefe added on, his words laced with hesitation. Fitz smiled at him softly.
"Well maybe you're just smitten with me." Fitz teased.
Keefe's expression went blank, his heartbeat picking up internally. Fitz's smile melted off his face, as he lowered his head.
And Keefe knew he should stay quiet, let the moment pass, push it down and let it become an agonizing memory, no matter how much his heart ached to say it out loud.
"Maybe I am." It slipped out. Keefe bit down hard on the inside of his mouth. Keefe knew he should smirk and wink to cover up, hide it, make it another one of his silly jokes. But he couldn't.
"I wish you meant that." Fitz said quietly. He was staring off into the distance, his previously relaxed face now dulled with sadness.
"You know I mean it." Keefe whispered. Fitz shook his head.
"No I don't." Fitz said, drawing his knees to his chest.
"I'm scared." Both boys spoke softly, quietly, slowly like they were scared of being heard. Fitz met his gaze, his dark eyes dull.
"Why?" Fitz was all Keefe ever wanted. But there was a barrier, his biggest fear, standing in the way of having him. Keefe wanted to speak, but there was a lump in his throat. He wanted to tell Fitz about the wall of panic frozen in his mind. How he wanted to melt it down, kiss him and never let go.
"I don't want to lose you." Was all he managed to choke out. Fitz placed his hand on his cheek and lifted his head.
"You won't."
"But what if we don't work out? What happens if we can't stand to be in the same room together? What if we crash and burn and I keep falling? What happens if we weren't made to love this way? What then, Fitz?"
"We'll take it slow. You won't lose me. Because I can't handle losing you. I need you as much as you need me." Fitz spoke softly, his eyes glistening. Keefe placed his hand on top of his, and Fitz's eyes moved to it.
Promise. Promise me that I won't lose you." Keefe implored. Tears collected in his eyes.
"You won't. I promise. I'll be here, and I'll love you in every way I can. I'll hold you whenever things go wrong and I'll never let you drift away. I'm not going to leave you. I love you too much to let that happen." Keefe nodded. Tears fell down his cheeks. He leaned into Fitz's arms, who gently wiped his face. He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on his forehead, wrapping his hands around him tightly.
"I love you too." He said, after a while gone by, and tears no longer streamed down his face. Keefe wanted to say more. He wanted to say how his love for Fitz burned brighter than a fire in a dark room. He wanted to say how he was in love with him since he was twelve. He wanted to say how he'd been dying from the inside every day that he knew that he could Fitz in every way that he wanted to, but his own consciousness forbade him too.
"Fate wouldn't let me love someone so deeply and destined us to crash and burn. Because if fate was that cruel, I'd never have met you in the first place." Fitz whispered.
Fate was a strange thing. There were people who shattered you and left, desolate and drowning in misery. But then some people walked in and put you back together gently, assuring you that no matter how broken you were, they'd still be there to piece you together, sometimes with fragments of themselves.
(That night, Keefe held Fitz closer than he'd ever allowed himself to.)
Sometimes memories are the best thing you can ever have. Seeing something beautiful play out in front of you, and knowing that, maybe everything is worth it , after all.
The essence of loving Fitz was detangling his image of perfection that had been previously sculpted in your head. He was a golden statue, but not just because it was elegant, but because it was soft, unrefined and slightly crooked. He was a painting in progress that you had worked on for years on end, not to get to the tiny details to perfection, but because you loved everything about the handmade brushstrokes you put on it that seemed to have a life of their own.
And he was perched beside him, the light of the departing sun streaming from the window and falling on him. His brown skin glowed in the sunlight.
Fitz smiled at him, reaching over and entangling their hands. Keefe smiled back, filled with a sense of peace that he'd never felt before.
Fitz drew closer to him, pressing a faint kiss to his cheek. Keefe's skin tingled, and an overwhelming rush of warmth filled his chest.
Neither of them were perfect. Not them, not their love .They were riddled with flaws and cracks. But from those cracks, rose the flowers of humanity, and no matter how crooked they were, they were still the most beautiful thing that had ever been.