Work Text:
He pauses for a second, as if he is actually thinking about the perfect answer to my rhetorical question. I wasn't really expecting an answer, not when I blurted out the question without giving it much thought. But how I want one. I want to know what's inside those massive walls that keep me at bay. What are those guards and those oceans around the walls protecting. What is so delicate, so pure and worth isolating in such a way to just keep it alive.
"I know better than to throw myself into a cliff with no safe net, or parachute" he says almost as a whisper. His voice shaken, raspy and so full of pain that it cuts through me like a knife. So cold, so dead and numb, just like his pale fragile skin. "Better throw myself in front of a bus than to roll infinitely on sharp stones" his cerulean eyes shine a little with the soft rays of light that slip through the leaves of the trees that cover us.
"But it doesn't have to be like that" I say. It may be a naive way to see life but I feel the tickles of the grass in my fingers, as I run them through it and I am reminded that there's cold and hot and good and bad.
"How do you know?" he shrugs and looked up, centering his gaze right into my eyes. How can a person reach a point in which their eyes are the picture of a frozen lake. Fun, because you can skate on it, but absolutely freezing. I remind myself that the ice is hard and dark but the insides are just liquid water. So cold it could kill you, of course.
"I don't" I say as I let out a deep sigh. "Guess you need a little faith" He looks up to the sky and I see a bitter smile playing on his lips. So gentle, like a ballerina sliding across the dance floor.
"Ah Faith" he looks defeated as every syllable leaves his mouth. "Hope is the last thing you lose, innit?" I smile
"Is there any left?" he just smiles again, stretching his lips in a way that makes me think it is quite foreign to him. It suits him, when his expressions frees itself from the bitterness. He nods so subtly I almost miss it.
"I'm still amazed by waking up from my nightmares" I give him a puzzled look, "how can I just escape them by swimming out of the horror and breathing in some reality. Of course reality is no less heavy on my lungs but just knowing that I can escape them somehow gives me some peace" I nod. "If I jump... and the nightmare comes... I can't escape it. There's no swimming out, there's no way to breathe again.... what if is not peaceful sleep but a burning hell? one even worse than now" he looks down and pulls on his sleeves, he takes a deep breath and says in the softest voice I've heard. "I think that's what keep me going. What if it gets worse?" my breath hitches, "there's no guarantee for absolutely anything. If I take a sharp turn, if I walk back, if I get on a plane, if I just keep going, the outcome might be just the same right? so i just keep moving forward."
"I'm glad you do" I say and he looks at me again through his hazy blue eyes. They gleam with the soft sun light and the tears that threaten to fall. I am once again overwhelmed by his beauty. Layer upon layer, soft and cod skin, sharp angles and messy and thin but overly complicated brown hair. Yes, I'm going nuts.
"I guess I am too" he smiles again, holding my gaze, and I can see it there. I can see the tiny sparkle of hope that I was hoping for. Just a bit, a bit can go a long way. "What?" he asks.
"What what?" I say
"You are staring" he chuckles a little and its like a small sun just rose on his face. "What?" he asks again, elongating the 'a' in the middle of the word. I'm not good at hiding my feelings, I know, but with him is like I don't even have a door.
"I enjoy looking at beautiful people. And I decided a while ago not to deny myself the simpler pleasures of existence"
"John Green?" he asks rising an eyebrow.
"I went through an american teenage novels phase" I say smiling and he chuckles again.
"That's the thing about pain" his expression turn a little darker, "it demands to be felt"
"Love is stronger" I say as seriously as I can
"You are insane" he says
"I was never insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched"
"Edgar Allan Poe?" he asks shyly, a sweet smile paying on his lips. I nod.
"Gotta love Poe"
"Do you want to go get a cup of tea and quote some more dead or alive people?"
"I would love to" I say. I stand up and hold him by the hand to pull him up towards me. He falls into my arms, a little more swiftly than planned and I hug him tightly. He hugs me back and I'm kind of grateful for that, because the first time I tried hugging him he just stood there, completely frozen. I pull away and give him my best grin, to which he replies smiling right back and it takes my breath away, again. There's just something so beautiful about being able to see a storm hitting an ocean in someone's eyes and something even better about holding their hand and walking down the street with them pressed tightly by your side.