disappear It’s cold outside, and the ride home isn’t long enough. Arms link around his stomach, you bury your face in the back of his jacket. It smells like motor oil and cigarettes, which would repulse any sensible person- but you aren’t a sensible person, are you? The engine starts, and you shut your eyes. In your mind, all there is is you and him- all else is darkness, nothingness. A void. He is the light in the dark, the beacon of all your desires. You love him, you love him like the ocean loves the sand. You love him like you aren’t broken, you love him like you aren’t sad, or diseased. You love him like a normal person loves a normal person, but you are the farthest thing from a normal person. You rub your nose against his back eight times. Squeeze him a little tighter. You can feel him smile, the radiation of warmth, reaching the ice cold heart that pumps the black ink through your veins. Feel the sensation of squirming in your veins, the rot in your husk of a body, the overpowering paranoia. You never deserved something like this- you never deserved any sort of love, not from him. Mondo reaches a stoplight, and silently puts his hand over yours in the moments the bike is stalled. You smile. You smile like happiness is your second nature. It’s strange, to feel any sort of happiness. Your whole world has been suffering. Your whole world has been nothing but a constant stream of panic, of pain and hatred. Nothing has ever gone right for you. You’ve never known anything but the disappointment of your parents, of your peers, of yourself. Nothing has ever amounted to anything. You’ve never felt like anything but a failure. But he- he’s different. He’s so different. He’s vulnerable, he’s weak- he’s shy and loud and angry, he’s a mass of contradictions. Everything about him is so soft and sweet, he yells when he’s nervous and he punches when he’s scared and he holds your hand when he doesn’t know what to do. He kisses you when you cry. He shuts his eyes and goes a little pink when you run your hands through his hair. He’s- he’s just so incredibly kind, a kindness you’ve never known in your life. When you reach his apartment, he links your fingers together and smiles at you. When he smiles, there can’t be anything wrong in the world. The corner of your mouth twitches, and he leads you in, bracing yourselves against the cold, meeting the warmth of the indoors, the quiet hum of an elevator. The key clicks into the lock, and the door opens. His apartment is a terrible mess. You’d think his mother would have something against it, but she’s, apparently, almost never home. Leaving you two to your own devices. His couch is comfortable, but lying on top of him and burying your face in his chest is even more comfortable. He wraps a blanket around the two of you, and kisses the top of your head, one hand ruffling your hair gently, another wrapping around your neck. Your hands bunch into the fabric of his shirt, and you think, maybe, if you could die like this, die here, in his arms, die wrapped up inside him, warm, happy, really, truly happy- that might be okay. Your veins writhe. He kisses away the discomfort, he kisses away the pain. And you love him- you love him with every fiber of your being, you love him like an eternity would never be enough, you love him through the blood and sweat and tears. You love him. You love him! You love him. Hey… His voice is soft, he lifts your face so your eyes meet. I love you. I love you…so much. I love you so goddamn much. Your face twists into something like a grin, and you pretend your eyes aren’t stinging. You lean forward and press your lips to his, closing your eyes. You don’t deserve this. Not in the slightest. He pulls you closer, and you rest your head in the crook of his neck. He strokes your back, he kisses your head, your fingers, your knuckles. Any sensible person wouldn’t feel like dying- but you aren’t a sensible person, are you?
Posted on: Mon, 31 Mar 2014 22:58:39 +0000
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