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It was a strange feeling. Creeping and crawling under Even's skin, making him cold and warm all at once and blocking his airways more and more until he felt close to suffocation. Surging pain through his heart to every little cell in his body, aching and tormenting his very being into numbness, yet, he never wanted it to end. Because all that pain, all those disturbing feelings were compensated by butterflies in his stomach and music in his head, singing him to sleep through a phone, healing him with a single touch. Everything he feared seemed to not matter at all when Isak was around. Worries washed away with the waves of his laughter, fears returned to their hiding spots in his mind with every touch of Isak's fingertips, wounds healed with every breath they exchanged. Even didn't believe in magic, but he couldn't help but feeling that this boy was something out of the ordinary. The way he looked at Even as if he'd captured the universe in his eyes, as if Even was the single most amazing thing he'd ever seen, the same way Even looked at Isak. Because if parallel universes do exist, who's to say they're not all enclosed in the iris of Isak's eyes?
He couldn't say he'd ever felt this way before, not with anyone, and should he be completely honest, it scared him. Not the fact that he had fallen so hard and undoubtedly, not Isak, or the way he felt around him, no. It was the inevitable end that scared him, how even if they were to live happily ever after, it would eventually end, one way or another, and losing Isak, his love and laugh and beauty, would crush him completely. So maybe it wasn't crazy that he thought staying away, not seeing things out with Isak would hurt less, because their tower wasn't that high yet. The longer you build a relationship, the higher off the ground you end up, and the longer the fall would be, the deadlier the landing.
But, he couldn't do it. God only knows who would have the strength to let someone like Isak go, someone so pure, so otherworldly. Incomprehensible to the very core, yet so beautiful, and angelic. His blonde curls, hazel eyes, the gaps between his teeth, the spots on his face, his admiring glance and a voice that could mend any broken heart. Even could count the things he loved about him forever, spend all day recreating Isak's face in his mind, and imagining him there, right beside him.
Thankfully, he no longer had to. Glancing over to his left was all it took, and he didn't have to imagine anymore, because there he was. The boy he loved, adored, craved, sleeping peacefully, breaths so silent he could be dead, but the motion of his chest rising and falling against Even's side assured him otherwise. A true masterpiece, or a blank canvas waiting to be colored, he could be either, or none. He was indescribable, however hard you'd try, there weren't words, photographs, metaphors, anything that could give a fair portrayal of the boy lying next to him. Nothing in the world, in this - or another - universe, could ever explain Even's feelings in a rational way. He'd only go mad if he tried, and the only madness he needed, was the one he felt in Isak's presence, the strange, painful, scary, and absolutely magical, unimaginable, incomprehensible madness, which he'd established was love.