#rambling non stop about a movie that moved so deeply it might as well be stitched into my skin

[livstarlight]

Wakanda Forever is really the culmination of everything about a storytelling project I could love. Emotion, complexity, thought, reflection, self-grow.

We have the clash between two extraordinary cultures that the moment they dare to venture outside their borders are constantly challenged and pressed, and that costant pression puts them against each other when in reality they are more similar than you could ever think. But the world has dictated they shouldn’t be allowed to thrive, to be themselves, and that puts them even more at odds. Until they start seeing how the things that connect them are more than what separate them.

Every character has its own role and arc, with light and dark at the same time, but there are these two... who are so amazing they aren't just product of their people. They are so different, but so viscerally similar and connected by circumstances and experiences, even if they elaborate them in a very different manner, who might as well be mirrors of each other. The good and the bad. And the way they manage to balance being a beacon of their own cultures and their own characters with all that computes... strenghts and struggles... Wow. It's so well done it’s incredible, breathtaking, ENORMOUS. (Ryan Coogler you fucking genius)

But at the center of everything this is a movie which revolves around grief, about who we are in the end, how everything affects our life and how we grow from and with it. It's a story with a heart so big it trascends.

How. How could I not love everything about this story. How could I not spend every hour, minute, moment of the day to think about it. Relish in it. And talk about it non-stop to everyone willing (and not) to listen.

[sunriseskog]

That Don’t Sound Like You- Auston Matthews

Request: “Can you write an AM imagine based on that don’t sound like you by lee brice?”

Warnings: angst & cursing

A/N: i vote that we all just ignore the fact that the last time I posted was like 6 months ago uwu i also vote that we ignore the fact that this sucks

There is nothing about dialing a phone that makes it inherently difficult— it’s arguably one of the simplest, most mundane tasks one can complete. But sometimes those buttons become a little harder to push, each dial seems to require a little bit more force, a little bit more resolution behind the action so your fingers can be sure your brain knows what it’s getting itself into. This was one of those phone calls.

It had been almost 10 months since the last time you and Auston had spoken, and neither of you had anticipated ever speaking to one another again, at least not in this lifetime. But it was his birthday. It was also your birthday. Which was precisely what prompted the predicament you currently found yourself in. For as long as you could remember, you and Auston had celebrated your shared birthdays with each other. Through bedtimes and curfews, timezones and years, the two of you had never failed to be the first to wish each other a happy birthday, exactly as the clock struck 12. This time last year all you had had to do was roll over in your bed to be able to partake in the tradition. Today? Things couldn’t be more different.

There had been years when you had begged your mother to phone Ema, just to find out if Auston was home before you rode your bike all the way over to his house. There had been years when you had snuck your phone upstairs well-past your bedtime, just to fall asleep 10 minutes after he picked up the phone. Now every time you picked up your phone you wished you had never memorized his number in the first place. The irony of the situation was anything but lost on you.

For all you knew, Auston could be celebrating the occasion with someone far more qualified to comfort him tonight than you were. He could be high out of his mind or plastered beyond belief. He could be sleeping soundly or watching movies with his family. Or… or he could be thinking about you just as much as you were thinking about him. You didn’t think you wanted to know the answer.

Except, it didn’t seem you were given a choice. Your thumb felt have as you moved to connect the call, but before you had the chance, an all too familiar contact picture consumed your screen, disappearing before your brain had a chance to register that the vibration had even begun. Well, that answered one question at least. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, he was thinking about you too.

You still had about 45 seconds until midnight, so there was the possibility that he merely hung up because he had called too early. But there was also a much more realistic possibility that he was overthinking this almost as much as you were, which meant the both of you were going to spend the next 45 seconds in absolute agony over who would have the balls to call first. You could always cut him a break, despite the fact that he had hung up almost immediately, he did still technically call first. You decided that being early just this one year wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and pushed the green button towards the bottom of your screen. You couldn’t help but think that this might be the last time the two of you shared this moment together.

Any semblance of confidence that you had possessed before placing the call was immediately eradicated the moment you heard the line connect. Nothing could have prepared you for the overwhelming experience of hearing his voice again.

“(Y/N)?” He questioned, his voice rough and lower than you remembered. The weight behind his question, the hopeful but disbelieving lilt in his tone robbed you of any hope you had of forming a coherent response, your breath having been punched out of your chest as soon as you had heard his voice again. You heard his breath hitch through the receiver as soon as you moved to speak.

“…hey” you breathed lightly, barely loud enough for even your own ears to register.

A few deafeningly silent moments passed before you realized that he wasn’t going to respond any time soon.

“Umm,” you hesitated, unsure of where to lead the conversation, but already feeling desperate not to let it end. “Happy birthday, Auston,” you spoke quietly, moisture gathering around the edge of your mouth as you spoke, a thick sob settling quietly in the back of your throat. Somehow, you managed to keep your voice from wavering, despite the history and emotion weighing heavily on every word that you spoke. You could hear the air rush past the receiver as he inhaled quickly, and the hair on the back of your neck bristled in preparation of hearing his voice again.

“What did he do,” he demanded sharply, the aggression in his tone catching you entirely off guard.

“Excuse me?” You demanded with an offended quirk of your brow, not quite sure whether to take what he was saying personally or not.

“N-no,” he stuttered quickly, “That’s… that’s not what I meant. I just,” he huffed out an ironic laugh, and you could almost see the way you knew he was rolling his eyes at himself, his left hand perched on the brow of his nose in frustration. “This is not how I intended for this to go,” he lamented lamely, “I just meant that like…” he hesitated. Wherever this conversation was going, you could already tell it was going to be a minefield of trying not to offend one another while desperately avoiding anything that would remind the two of you of what had occurred all those months ago. You heard him sigh deeply as he prepared to explain himself.

“I just meant…” he trailed off again, and you were quickly becoming increasingly frustrated with how long it was taking this boy to spit out a single sentence.

“Spit it out, Auston,” you sighed, “You’re not going to offend me, and it’s not like we have a relationship to jeopardize in the first place,” you spoke reservedly, trying to keep your voice as non-abrasive as possible.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” He exclaimed seeming to be ignited by what you had said. “That’s- That not how you fucking talk, (Y/N)! Whatever the fuck you’re saying that’s- that’s not you,” he rambled. “You’re way too fucking quiet and you’re not cussing or screaming at me or going off on me for calling you on your birthday and you’re not talking about what happened and you’re talking to me. today. Right now. You are talking to me. Which means he must have done something,” he finished, having run out of breath from how quickly and loudly he was speaking.

“Auston…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t like he was wrong, the rebound— Luke— that you had met during a drunken tinder binge after you and Auston had split, had quickly turned into a hell of a lot more than you intended, and you had been in such a vulnerable emotional state that by the time you were cognizant enough to realize what was happening around you, it was too late to go back. Somehow what you had intended to be a one-night stand had turned into him staying the night, asking you to make breakfast, and then proceeding to continue to invite himself over until you weren’t even clear as to whether he was your boyfriend or not. After a few misinterpreted social media interactions, everyone else— including Luke— seemed to decide the two of you were dating, without anyone seeming to consider asking you.

“Why are you alone on your birthday?” He demanded, cutting off the half-formed response you had begun to stutter out in response to his previous line of questioning.

“Why are you?” You rebutted, matching his aggressive tone. As far as you were concerned, you were under no obligation to answer his questions, especially if he was going to continue acting like a complete ass when all you had wanted to do was have his voice be the first you heard on your birthday, especially if this was going to be the last time. You couldn’t help but notice that he still hadn’t said it back.

“You know why,” he stated simply, as if somehow you knew exactly what was happening inside of his brain despite the fact that it had been damn near a year since the two of you had spoken.

“Enlighten me,” you quipped sarcastically with a roll of your eyes, wishing for this conversation to end by desperate for him not to stop talking.

“I missed you.” You felt your heart drop inside of your chest. He stated those words so easily, as if it wouldn’t take every ounce of pride that you had managed to preserve over the past few months to reciprocate the statement.

“I answered your question,” he continued. “Now you answer mine.”

“Which one?” You cleared your throat, his confession still ricocheting around your mind, seeming to consume your being entirely.

“Why are you alone on your birthday?”

You took a deep breath before beginning, there was no point in lying, the only options on the table were that eventually he would find out the truth or this would be the final conversation you would have with him, and you didn’t want the last thing you said to him to have been a lie. It wasn’t worth it, you had nothing to lose.

“If I couldn’t talk to you, I didn’t want to talk to anyone,” you stated simply. The two of you knew this was as close to a confession as your pride would let you get, regardless of the circumstances.

“Wh-what about Luke?” He questioned hesitantly, the hopeful lilt from the first time he spoke returning at last.

“Especially not Luke,” you asserted, resisted the urge to groan at the mere mention of the omnipresent nuisance in your life. “That… that wasn’t what everyone thought it was, and whatever it actually was is over now… not that it matters.”

“oh…” he spoke quietly, seemingly unsure of what to say.

“…yeah,” you winced, visibly cringing at how the conversation had become so painfully awkward so quickly.

“That wasn’t my only question,” he began quickly, his voice seeming to allude to the fact that he wasn’t expecting an answer.

“I know.”

“Maybe,” he started apprehensively. “Maybe you could answer it over coffee sometime?” He inquired hopefully. You could practically feel him holding his breath. You choked on the breath you had been exhaling, your shoulders stiffening on their own accord.

“You- you don’t have to you know…” he trailed off. “You don’t have to answer the question, or even meet me for that matter. Just… just if you want to y’know.”

“Hows tomorrow sound?” You cut him off, mercifully putting an end to whatever else he was going to nervously ramble on about until you gave an answer. The breath of relief he let out sounded more like a laugh, and words couldn’t express how good it felt to be smiling with him again. There was every possibility that this was the first genuine smile you had let out since the last time the two of you had spoken.

“I couldn’t think of a better time if I tried,” he smirked, his cockiness exuding through the speaker despite the vulnerability of the previous moment.

“I’ll see you then,” you quipped, a similar confidence seeping into your tone.

As you moved to hang up, you heard him begin to speak again.

“(Y/N)?” He rushed quickly.

“Yeah?” You questioned, confused.

“Happy Birthday.”

A/N: it has been so so very long since i’ve posted so please let me know what you think!!! & thanks for sticking around through my semi-hiatus lmao

[taenys]

“does it bother you that i’m still friends with *insert ex’s name here*”

oof. wasn’t ready for that one. my brain shut down the moment he said it. the way it shuts down whenever he mentions talking to her. yes, it does bother me that he’s still friends with his ex, but not for the reasons he probably thinks and not for any reasons i felt i could share during the car ride home (honestly probably a better discussion to have in writing, i might cry in person lmao). it’s not because i’m stupid and jealous and feel "threatened.”

it’s because a few weeks ago i made the grave error of snooping deeper into her facebook, and seeing a link to her personal writing blog. i too am a writer, a poor one yes, but still. and so i wanted to see her own work, torture myself and see what kind of romantic sonnets she may have written while she was with tom. i figured they’d be beautiful. and what can i say, i love to suffer.

anyways, i went back to 2010 on her blogspot, to when they first started dating and i saw?? nothing about him? nothing about her feelings for him? which freaked me out because why wouldn’t she document her journey falling in love with tom. i mean, i certainly have on my own blog. all she wrote about was about her ex. romantic stuff about missing said ex. did i have my dates mixed up maybe? no, no. because then there was a post where she literally says she’s still in love with her ex while she’s with tom and how she knows that makes her a shitty girlfriend. um yeah. very fucking shitty. did tom know this going in? i know tom dropped everything and moved across the country for her (he told me that before), but did he do that knowing she felt this way? did he sacrifice so much of himself knowing she loved someone else? if so, why? i have to assume she was tom’s “great love,” you know? that one “epic” love of your life that presumably only happens once. which is why he was willing to do seemingly ANYTHING for her.

when i think about it now, i can’t picture tom being that way. he’s too mature and sensible now. i have to assume he learned a lot from that relationship, and a lot of his outlook on dating has shifted over the years as a result. his dating profile had something like “i’m not looking for someone to ‘complete’ me” and emphasized that he’s perfectly happy on his own. that’s definitely not the same person who dropped his whole life, school, work, family, friends, and moved across the country to be with the girl he loved...that’s the kinda shit you read in cheesy teen romance novels and corny movies (that i love, btw). but still, it was a lot. and he did that for her without hesitation. and just purely based on her personal blog ramblings, she didn’t show a lot of gratitude for it. maybe that’s just because she only chose to document the negative, i don’t know.

there was one post that she wrote like a year into their relationship where she writes about feeling like she made a mistake by being with him.  because of how affectionate he was with their cat, it made her jealous and that those affections should be for her only because they were promised to be. really? SHE made a mistake being with him? HE’S the one left it all behind to move out here and be with her. my god. it made me angry. and then months later she wrote another post saying that she doesn’t deserve tom, because of all that he did for her, and how little she’s done in return. he did his best to support her, financially (since she didn’t work) and emotionally. and she, in her own words, admits to being an “ungrateful bitch.” well, at least she was self aware because HOLY FUCK.

and then in the next few posts, just months after admitting that tom deserves better (can’t disagree there!), she’s writing about how she’s “through” with him. she insults his body/weight (which made me so fucking angry and disgusted) and then she openly admits that she’s no longer in love with him. and i look at the date on that post: 2012. they didn’t break up until 2015. i mean, fuck. there were like no posts in there about how much she loved him. little to no posts about how hard he was working, how deeply she loved him, it was like she was never actually in love with him? or if she was it wasn’t long lasting. i mean, she definitely didn’t express it in her writing. she wrote plenty of deep romantic shit about her ex before tom. but nothing for thomas, who she was with for 5 years and who he devoted so much to. and it just...killed me to see that. to think that he wasn’t loved the way he deserved to be. why did they stay together so long. how did he survive. giving so much of himself...and perhaps getting nothing much in return? it just...made me hurt. but that’s my own fault. those words were never meant for my eyes. who’s eyes were they fucking meant for, i don’t know.

she was very clearly going through a lot emotionally, she was very depressed, which i understand. fuck, do i understand. depression is the worst fucking illness. i still struggle with it every day. but it became very clear to me reading her old posts that tom’s purpose in her life was....to fix her. she wanted him to fix her. she demanded him to fix her. and him moving out here for her with the purpose of “taking care of her,” must have meant that he went in thinking he could? god, that just made me sad. using someone else to...make you better...fix your mental health...make you “whole,” relying on them completely and becoming so overly dependent on them that if they aren’t EXACTLY PERFECT ALL THE TIME, you grow to resent them and blame THEM for your mental health issues...it just...my god it was so wrong and it was so unfair to tom. 

but it’s all in the past. this is all shit from 2010-2015. it’s been 4 years. they’re still good friends! cool! but not really because i guess after reading all of that, i just came to really...dislike her, to put it mildly. yeah, i’m okay with him being friends with his ex, as long as he’s okay with me not really being her biggest fan. i’ll probably make the :/ face when he mentions her, just as a reflex. but i’m okay with that. i’m sure she’s a better person now. she’s stable, happy, married, mature, etc. but i’ve been tainted. and it sucks. ‘cause what if someday he wants me to meet her or something? i’m going to be screaming internally the entire time. when i hear her name i just think about all that stuff. i think about how much work tom put into their relationship, how much he sacrificed, how much emotional energy he poured into it, physical energy working non-stop to support her, and she was in the meantime writing about being in love with her ex, writing shit about his “belly,” and getting pissy because of much he adores his cat.

i think to myself, my god...i would never want to be friends with a former partner after going through that. if i read my ex’s blog and they had stuff like that written about me i’d never want to speak to them again (though knowing me, i would’ve been reading their blog from day one and would’ve ended it as soon as i read “yes i’m still in love with my ex”). but maybe tom never read that stuff. if so, GOOD. it’s vile and depressing and he doesn’t deserve those words. but if he had read them and he’s okay with it? then, WOW. he’s a much stronger person than i ever could be. maybe he wasn’t okay with it at first, but they’re both better now in their own separate lives and it’s been years so he’s over it? i don’t know. maybe it doesn’t matter. 

i’m caring too much about things that don’t matter anymore. i just. fuck. i love tom. so much. and reading about that part of his past made me sad. i can’t help it. i love him, i want to take care of him. i’m feeling the hurt that i (assume) he felt. the weight of all of that. i’m feeling that pain on his behalf. it’s the “empath” coming out lmao. curse my empath superpower!!!11!!1 my main thought after reading all that shit though was...tom...i’m going to love you so good. i promise. the last thing i want to do is drain you emotionally or make you feel unappreciated. because i know what it’s like. to pour your heart and soul into something, someone, for a long time, and have them take and take and take from you and give you scraps, if not nothing, in return. it’s takes the life out of you. and i never want to do that to you.

i know sometimes i get quiet. cold. distant. i’m too in my head. i’m dealing with my own depression and trauma. but it’s me, it’s not you. it’s never anything you said or did. it’s me overthinking. assuming the worst and then feeling the worst. but it doesn’t last (it might seem like it lasts longer than it does just because i am too afraid to come back to your arms for fear that you’re annoyed with me. exhausted by me. i’ve pushed you and now you won’t want me back). the quiet space i use is me talking myself down. coming back to reality. coming back to where you are. because that’s where i want to be. i’m trying. so hard. because you deserve that. i won’t ever ask you to fix me because that’s not your job.  i will work hard, okay. it won’t be easy because i’m a mess too, riddled with flaws, but i love you. that i know. you won’t have to doubt that. but we’re a team. you can trust in that. we’re in this together. i promise that i’ll always support you as much as you support me.

[wolfandhappiness]

To “Anna Tatsumaki J.”

Oui oui, tres bien. Mais, je non parle francais...It’s awesome that you started to learn French. I actually took a semester of French for shits and giggles...and Japanese, and Italian too. Forgot them all by now though.

Regarding the snail mail that we’ve been exchanging, i actually find the occasional inbox notification kinda fun in a sense.

I don’t know how it is going in America, but over here, it is starting to get a little chaotic with the Corona virus and all that jazz. Not that the situation is bad, just that people are getting more paranoid by the day. Crazy how people can be in these kind of situation really.

Great to hear that you have a new girlfriend. And don’t worry, I'm sure you can make it works. As for my life; I am in a fresh relationship too, around five months in already. Though at this stage in life, marriage is a real possibility now. Kind of freaky when you actually have to stare reality in the face - Like flipping to a brand new chapter and leaving behind a major chunk of your life so far. I have a best friend, whom I've know for probably 14 years already, and he got married recently too. Best wedding ever by the way; Viking style - we got people drunk and puking, people running around dancing and singing...A dude even manage to cut his hand and bleed so much that when my friend's wife returned her wedding dress, there was blood on it.

But yea, it is such a strange strange feeling; like seeing time literally flying by. I occasionally get flash back of past experiences, much like seeing your life flashing before your eyes. But in this case, every time I think of the future to come, I just get visions of my life and people who was and still is with me. I saw my friends and I as teenagers with our crazy plans, our foolish games, our hopeless pursuit of girls...But I mostly get stuck on those who was and no longer is...

I might be going on a ramble here and tell you a story, but you probably wouldn't mind too much right? 

I actually have two best friends - Wouldn't be an exaggeration when I say that these two made me who I am. The one above who just got hitched (Bear), and the other is a girl (Crow) who simply disappeared. The latter leaves me semi-obsessed to this day. I don't handle people leaving very well. She isn't dead though, I believe...it’s just that one day she decided that she had enough.

Oh the story I could tell you about Crow, one of the most crazy to live, crazy to die, an embodiment of wanderlust, and outright the most selfish person that I've ever known...yet how I admire her deeply.

I first knew her near the end of senior in high school. Crow was a rebel at that time, riding a BMWs motorcycle, smoking red label Marlboro cigarettes and some tattoos here and there. She got me through some tough time, and literally straighten me up in a lot of ways - she is brutal when it comes to her criticism. There were a time when we got infatuated with one another, but I was doing my study in the US, and she was just traveling all around the world so I never got a chance to develop my feelings. And as if fate would have it, we would always miss each other: When I went to Europe to try and see her, she went to North America; when I went back to America, she just made her way up to Banks Island, Canada with the Inuit people; and when I finally came home to Vietnam after college, Bear told me that she had just left the country three days earlier - One night, Bear got a call from an unknown number at 3 a.m., and it was Crow, telling him that she was at the airport, and was about to leave the country for a long long time, talking about something along the line of wanting to die socially. The thing about Crow is that she always stay true to her plan, so she vanished. No goodbye, no phone call, no letters of explanation, nada...

Then about a year ago, Bear and I got an anonymous Amazon cardboard box from the Post (we don't have Amazon in Vietnam). Inside is a book for Bear - The Castle by Kafka; and a lunch bag from a hotel in Grand Canyon for me...Inside the bag was a fossilized drift wood shaped like a Crow skull, and a small compass that I've gave Crow quite some time ago. It even took me a while after I've opened the bag to remember that it was my gift.

The compass itself has the quote "Not all those who wanders are lost" engraved, and it was meant to be a charm for Crow during those traveling days of hers. Bear and I just took it as a message from Crow saying she was alive and "No longer worried about being lost"...We also concluded that she was probably somewhere in California.

The last conversation I had with her, I actually wanted to just drop everything that I was doing, so she and I can just go traveling together - I was sick of my life at the time. Crow entertained the idea for a bit but eventually shot me down, saying she didn't want to be held accountable for my life too. 

It was kind of a slap in the face when the news of her disappearance came afterward. 

To this day, I still don't really know if I was in love with her at the time or not, but I knew that I held her very dear, and the way she left leaves me without closure. I dream of Crow every now and then still, mostly at random without any trigger of sort. Crow came in all shape and sizes in those dreams - sometime she was a blonde boy, sometime a stuffed crow on the wall, sometime she was a really young Asian girl, and other times I can only hear her voice...I can vividly remember one of those dream, where she appeared and ask me why after all this time, I still haven't found happiness (I have never even questioned my happiness before at this point) And this pushed me to stop obsessing over her and start trying at an actual relationship again...Funny how even when she isn't around, she can still whip me back to shape huh?

A week ago, I dreamt of her again. Which is probably the reason why I wanted to share the story to you now. In the dream, I was back to my old-self, the days when I was still willing to leave everything behind and go with Crow to god-knows-where. And in that same dream, she shot me down again. Waking up afterward, I felt devastated and guilty...I love my current girlfriend, and I am willing to take responsibility toward our relationship when the time do come. But I guess part of me just never got over the past, of what could have been. 

And in the midst of all the what-ifs is Crow; the image of her standing at the bus station in the dead of winter, waiting for a bus to Banks Island with a red label Marlboro cigarette in hand. She is the biggest closure I am unable to obtain.

And perhaps the saddest thing is that...Between me and Crow, I'm probably the only one who remains stuck like this. But of course, being a self-proclaimed intellect, I know what I have to do to keep going forward. I have always ran head first into every difficult situation that I have had, since I hate looking away and ignoring my problems. But in this situation, without any way to find Crow and have closure, my only choice is to forget and move on (regardless of how much I hate it.)

...

Somehow I ended up writing a god-damn novel here. But I just wanted to write it all down somehow, and you, my dear Anna, just happened to be unlucky enough to bear the brunt of my long tales.

To finally answer your question, aside from the sentimentality I displayed in this mail, my life is actually going well - Steady job; my relationship with my girlfriend is still going strong; and even amidst the pandemic, I remain relatively unaffected. 

I really do wish you the best, Anna. Hope you live true and wild my friend...And to quote one of my favorite lines in a movie: 

“Have no ragrets...Not even a letter"  

Yes, the misspelling is intentional

W

[kurowrites]

Aureola (Part 4)

I have officially given up on my sanity and have no energy left at all, so there you go, the last part (wee!). I could still add so many things, but honestly it just seems like far too much effort at the moment. I just want to sleep now. 

You can find the first three parts here. Also, if you liked it, I’d honestly appreciate a comment so much!

XIX.

Once they arrived at Helios’ house, Helios let Icarus in, pointed out where the bathroom was and proceeded to tell him to make himself comfortable. He hesitated for a moment in the door frame, but then went into the kitchen and picked out the number to order them some take away. Icarus stood there for a moment, listening to Helios’ phone conversation with one ear. But his curiosity quickly got the better of him and he couldn't help but wander around the first floor of the house.

It was a decently sized house, neither overly large nor very small, with enough room so that the layout didn’t feel cramped. The windows were large, so that the rooms would be naturally bright if the sun was up. The furniture was rather sparse, mostly just the necessities such as tables, chairs and a sofa, with some bookshelves and a variety of instruments placed in a way that prevented the rooms from feeling too empty. Some of the bookshelves hadn’t been completely shelved yet, a few boxes full of books still lying around.

Icarus poked at some of the books. Apparently, Helios was a voracious reader and he had a diversified taste, the books ranging from non-fiction over detective novels to science fiction.

Everything was unpretentious, but all the furniture was of good quality, and it looked new. The grey sofa in the living room looked especially inviting, so Icarus sat on it and gave it a little bounce, testing its comfort. It was very comfortable, no doubt. It kind of made him want to lie down and close his eyes for a few moments.

“The food should be here in about 40 minutes,” Helios said, following Icarus into the living room after he had finished the call. The turned the TV on and handed the remote over to Icarus. “Choose whatever you want.”

“What do you watch, usually?” Icarus asked.

“I like documentaries,” Helios answered.

“Really?”

“I don’t really have the patience to watch TV series,” Helios said. “I do like watching films. But when I loaf around, I prefer documentaries. Sometimes, they help me get inspired to write new music.”

Icarus felt surprised at that, but then, it also seemed very much like Helios somehow. He couldn’t really imagine Helios binge-watching TV series on Netflix. But that was the same mistake he’d made before, judging Helios by his appearance. It was hard to get a read on him, Icarus felt, so it was easy to simply assume. Unlike Eliza, who chattered endlessly about the things that she loved and the things that she was currently concerned about, Helios only ever said exactly as much as he felt was needed in any given moment.

What did Icarus actually know about him?

He was very passionate about the music he made, to the point where he chose to concentrate on that instead of getting a formal education.

He liked animals, especially penguins and dogs.

He liked physical exercise such as hiking and running.

He liked to go out into nature when he felt like he needed a break.

He didn’t seem all too sociable and didn’t speak very much.

When he did say something, he meant it.  

He liked good food and spent time researching good restaurants on the internet.

He liked to read.

He liked documentaries.

He apparently liked Icarus. And made time for him to suit his schedule.

Icarus had learned more than he ever thought he would about Helios since they had bumped into each other in that supermarket, but there were so many things that were also still a mystery to him. First and foremost, he had no idea why Helios would go for someone like Icarus when he could have virtually anyone else if he tried. He was good-looking enough that he could probably attract droves of men and women simply with a well-timed smile.

Icarus sighed quietly and went over the different options to watch. He doubted Helios would be into a superhero movie, and Icarus himself certainly wouldn’t subject himself to a romcom. Maybe a documentary wouldn’t be the worst option. He randomly chose the first thing that caught his eye.

Helios settled down next to him on the sofa, and suddenly, Icarus was all too aware of his presence next to him. Helios liked him. Wow. Helios had told him he liked him, and now he was here, on his sofa, on what might be a date.

Icarus felt nervous and on edge until the food arrived. He pretended to be immersed in the program that they were watching, but really, he was stealthily watching Helios get up and go to the door to get their food. Helios liked him, and Icarus had fallen for him hook, line, and sinker.

It was the worst epiphany to have over food, of all things.

They ate in relative silence. Helios was never really chatty when he was eating, Icarus knew that by now, but Icarus still couldn’t help sending nervous glances over to him every so often.

At some point, Helios put his food away and returned Icarus’ look. Then he sighed deeply.

“I’m not actually going to suddenly jump you, you know.”

“I- I know,” Icarus stuttered. “I just… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I’m just… I don’t know.” He shrugged helplessly.

“We can just continue watching TV,” Helios said calmly. “Nothing more and nothing less. And maybe have a conversation about… us.”

“But…” Icarus insisted, squirming around in his seat. He slowly reached out and touched Helios’ forearm. “I keep noticing you.”

XX.

Helios looked at him with an intense gaze, and Icarus’ heartbeat unwittingly sped up. He wasn’t sure what exactly was happening, but he was sure that something was happening. He couldn’t stop looking at Helios’ eyes of molten gold, so much more beautiful and alive than he could have ever imagined looking from afar.

“You’re strange,” Helios murmured, and then he leaned down to gently grasp Icarus’ chin and lifted it. He softly pressed his thumb into Icarus’ lower lip and then stroked back and forth - once, twice, three times. “Very strange.”

He leaned down further and then, finally, he kissed Icarus.

Icarus sat there, completely frozen. The sensation of Helios’ lips on his was strange, unfamiliar, but not in a bad way. No, it felt really, really good. Icarus found himself wishing that it would never stop; that the tingling in his lips, his fingertips, the fluttering in his stomach would never stop. That Helios would never stop touching him so gently.

After a few moments, Helios drew back and looked at Icarus again, considering.

“Don’t stop,” Icarus found himself pleading.

Helios smiled, the tiniest quirk of his lips.

“I can work with that,” he murmured before he leaned in again, pressing gentle kisses to Icarus’ nose and cheeks.

Icarus’ eyes slipped closed and he simply enjoyed the sensation of Helios’ hands and lips on him. If he had imagined doing this with Helios, he would have imagined Helios being more assertive and maybe a little rough. Well, maybe not rough, but… urgent? Instead, Helios’ attentions were luxurious and unhurried, rather as if he was enjoying a cool drink by the pool side and not intent on debauching Icarus.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been thinking about doing this?” Helios asked quietly between several kisses.

Icarus didn’t know how to reply. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that Helios was interested in him, much less that Helios wanted to kiss him. Hell, he would have been happy if Helios had as much as remembered his name.

Icarus had always been at a disadvantage. He’d fallen for Helios all too easily. That Helios could feel the same - the thought had never even crossed his mind.

“You are so pretty,” Helios continued, unaware of Icarus’ rambling thoughts. “I’ve been wanting to touch you so badly.”

Helios hands wandered from Icarus’ face to his neck and then lower. Never before had he felt anything like this, the touch of another person leaving traces on his body like this, and his chest felt as if it would burst from all the conflicting emotions that filled it at the touch of Helios’ hands.

Slowly, the hands wandered along his frame, down to his waist (slightly ticklish) and then lower until they reached his hips where they stopped to move in small circling motions in a way that felt decidedly…

...not good.

“...I think I’m going to be sick,” Icarus rasped, and then he jumped up and ran for the bathroom.

He unceremoniously emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl. After the heaving had finally stopped, he found the energy to slowly lift his head.

Helios stood leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and lips in a thin line.

Icarus wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. Leave it to him to completely destroy the most amazing moment in the worst way possible.

Oh god, there was no way that Helios was going to want him now. He had completely and utterly fucked everything up.

“You know, you’re supposed to tell people when you’re feeling uncomfortable with something that they’re doing,” Helios said severely.

“Sorry,” Icarus mumbled.

“Don’t apologise,” Helios growled, waving his hands in frustration. “But next time, tell me to stop before something like this happens.”

“I… I’m not sure what happened, really,” Icarus replied shakily. “I wanted you to touch me.”

There was a moment of silence that caused Icarus to tense, but then Helios kneeled next to him, gently taking hold of his neck and rubbing it lightly.

“There are many different ways in which people can touch each other,” he said quietly.

Icarus closed his eyes in frustration, trying to keep back his tears. He didn’t want this to end in another failure on his part. He finally wanted to do something properly, the way it was supposed to be done. When it came to Helios, he wanted so many things.

Fuck.

“Is it okay like this?” Helios asked, still gently stroking his neck, his fingers not straying any longer.

“Yes,” Icarus hissed, frustrated. “Anything rated G is dandy.”

“Icarus,” Helios said in a warning tone.

“It’s a joke, isn’t it,” Icarus spat angrily. “I wanted you to touch me.”  

“And I want you to not feel sick when I touch you, so you got to tell me what you’re fine with,” Helios shot back. He was frowning and looking supremely angry, but the hand still stroking Icarus’ neck stayed far too gentle.

It was too much, and Icarus broke into tears.

“I don’t know! I don’t know. No one ever touches me like that.”

The tears were streaming freely now, and he gasped for air, dimly realising that he was close to hyperventilation, but not rational enough at the moment to actually care that it was happening.

“I can’t do this. I can’t do this,” he blubbered.

“Icarus,” Helios said. “Icarus. Calm down. It’s not an issue. We just have to figure out what you’re fine with.”

“I should be fine with it,” Icarus insisted hysterically. “I just want to be normal for once.”

“What does that even mean,” Helios said, and there was a strange sense of frustration in his voice as he let his hand drop away from Icarus’ neck. “I didn’t spend time with you because I thought you’d be normal.”

XXI.

“You’re the worst,” Icarus whispered feebly.

“Ugh,” Helios grunted. “Are you even listening? I like you just fine the way you are! Why are you trying to live up to some kind of imaginary standard? There’s no such thing!”

“But everyone tells me there is!” Icarus shouted. “Everyone always lets me know how much I’m not living up to it!”

“Why the fuck are you listening to them?” Helios shouted back. The noise was uncomfortably amplified by the bathroom walls, and Icarus had the sudden urge to cover his ears and stop listening to Helios for good. “You are fine just the way you are! Why are you letting others tell you what to think?”

Icarus remained quiet, because Helios made sense, of course he did, but something inside of Icarus told him that he was wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Seriously, Icarus, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but when I chatted you up, it was because you were cute and kind of quirky, and you kind of went along with the flow and I felt comfortable in your presence. You have absolutely no malicious bone in your body, and you couldn’t practice deceit to save your life.” Icarus watched him card his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I mean it when I say that I like you just as you are. It’s not like I’m exactly a normal, sociable person either. But you don’t seem to have a problem with that.”

“No,” Icarus agreed. “But you are like the sun. People love you anyway.”

“Icarus, if I am the sun, then you are the moon. And I’m pretty sure I’m under your spell.”

Icarus laughed wetly. “That was a little dramatic now.”

“I’m not kidding here.”

“The thing is: I know that you don’t,” Icarus sighed. He tried to stand up and suddenly realised that his legs felt shaky and weak. God, he suddenly was exhausted. “Can you bring me home?”

Helios was quiet for a moment. “Sure. I think it’s better for tonight.”

Icarus looked up into Helios’ eyes. So beautiful still, even though though he looked about as tired as Icarus felt.

“Are you okay to stand?” Helios asked.

“Yes,” Icarus replied, but he still took Helios’ hand when he offered it to him.

Helios gave him towels and a toothbrush to clean himself up, and then, once Icarus was ready, he brought him back to the dorm in his car. They were quiet during the drive, not speaking to each other, and if he was honest, Icarus didn’t have the energy to even apologise anymore. He’d fucked this up so badly, Helios was probably glad once he was finally rid of him.

Oh god, and he’d been so happy just an hour ago.

When they arrived at the dorm, Helios followed Icarus out of the car and to the door wordlessly.  

Icarus stopped in front of the door and turned around to look at Helios for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

“Thank you for bringing me home,” he eventually said, and the words felt leaden in his mouth.

“It was the least I could do,” Helios replied, shrugging almost helplessly. Icarus wondered if he’d ever seen Helios so unsure of himself before. They stared at each other for a long moment, the silence between the two of them becoming oppressive.

“I… will I see you again?” Helios asked.

Icarus sucked in a breath in surprise. Suddenly, Helios seemed to shrink into himself, lowering his gaze to his shoes.

Icarus’ mind whirred, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Did Helios maybe… did he think that he had overstepped his boundaries? Did he think that Icarus was the one who didn’t want to see him again?

As if. As if.

“Soon,” Icarus whispered breathlessly. “We’ll see each other soon. Don’t worry too much, okay?”

“I’ll try,” Helios murmured back, shrugging his shoulders a little.

The hopelessness of the gesture made Icarus take heart. He stepped closer to Helios, raising himself on tiptoes and giving him a soft kiss. Helios stared at him in disbelief, and Icarus kissed him again. Softly, so softly.

When they finally parted and Icarus stepped back, Helios took one of his hands and squeezed it, not meeting Icarus’ eyes for a moment. Then, reluctantly, he lifted Icarus’ hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the knuckles before he slowly let it go.

“Good night, Helios,” Icarus said, wishing he could put all the emotions that were clamouring in his chest into these three words.

“Good night, Icarus,” Helios replied, and he stood there in the dark, staring at Icarus with his beautiful golden eyes as if Icarus was the sun.

With a last look over his shoulder, Icarus opened the door and went inside.