The sound of Paul's knuckles on the unassuming wooden door reverberates damply throughout the empty hallway, the normally teeming residence completely devoid of life. He leans against the doorframe quietly, one arm over his head, supporting himself, the other resting limply on the door as he prepares to knock again. Closing his eyes as he rests his head against his arm, he raps on the door lightly once more, not expecting anyone to answer until he hears sudden, muffled movement from somewhere within. Straightening up, he drops his hand to his side and takes a half step back as the door knob begins to shift. The door swings open widely, pulling the air from the hallway into its sudden midst, and releasing the unfamiliar scents from within to assail Paul's senses. Nathan stands on the other side, blinking out at Paul for a moment before his ususal charismatic smile careens across his rosy lips.
"Hey!" he says in a surprised tone, stepping back a ways to offer Paul entry into the room.
With a smile of gratitude and greeting, Paul pushes himself off the doorframe and steps inside, completely unaware of Nathan's eyes fluttering closed for a brief second as he passes by.
"Hey. I'm not intruding, am I?"
Nathan shakes his head as he kicks the door gently shut, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his grey dress pants, regarding Paul with an amicable, smiling gaze.
"Not at all. I was just thinking about you, actually. How have you been? You haven't been showing up for class for a couple days. I was worried something was wrong."
Paul meets Nathan's chocolate, concerned gaze with an apologetic half-smile.
"Yeah, I know. I've been really busy dealing with some family issues. How have you been?"
"Fine. Family issues?" Nathan echoes, tilting his head to the side as he watches Paul, who nods with an abesnt-minded shrug.
"Yeah. My father's girlfriend is trying to get him to adopt her children, but the kids, who are my age, refuse to let that happen. So we've been in court for the past couple days sorting things through."
As he finishes his sentance, he takes his eyes off Nathan to look at his surroundings. What he sees makes him smile. The room is like an entention of the two twins inhabiting its snug quarters. Absurdly, it reminded him somewhat of a hobbit hole, albeit much more modern and neuveau. The smile stays on his lips as he takes it in, the beige walls and carpeting, mixed with copper and tan furniture; a colour scheme the two of them never seemed to break away from much. The room has a light, clean feel to it, much like the two brothers themselves. It speaks of nothing to hide, and indeed, there are no shadows cast anywhere. Every single corner is laid bare, no furniture or decorations touch the walls. Spotless and sceneted with something nameless but undoubtably expensive, it is a room wherein Paul feels himself thrust into the nucleus of the twins and their symbiotic, collective mind.
Nathan stands there quietly, his hands motionless in his pockets, watching Paul smile that strange, yet now familiar smile. The sweet one, the one of wonder and magic that never failed to leave Nathan shaking his head in amazement, wondering what the big, incredble secret was that only Paul could see. He is about to open his mouth to ask Paul to clarify on his familial problems when Alex's door swings suddenly open. Offering a half-smile to his brother as Ales strides into the front room, he turns to lock the front door as he sees Alex's eyes find and lock upon Paul.
"Paul!" Alex cries in delight, grinning brightly.
Paul returns the heartfelt smile with one in kind, and accepts the hug Alex readily, if a little forcibly, provides. He turns back in time to see them locked in the embrace; catches a glimpse of Paul's magnetic grin and Alex's sparkling eyes. He turns away again.
"Where have you been man?" Alex asks, letting go of Paul somewhat reluctantly. "How have you been?"
Paul shrugs engimatically and smiles, running his fingers through his hair slowly, almost teasingly, Nathan thinks to himself grumpily, watching the pale fingers move as though underwater through the jet black locks.
"Alright, I suppose. Are you off somewhere? You look dressed to impress."
Alex chuckles and looks down at himself, grinning smugly, winking at Paul.
"Acutally, yes. Off for a date. Do I really impress?"
Paul laughs as he nods. Clad in cream khakis that taper in a graceful plunge from his hidden, slender hips to his booted feet, and a grey, impossibly soft-looking sweater, Alex looks as impeccable as always. Dark eyes flecked with amber fire look back at Paul, the tawny flecks come alive with dancing happiness and amusement.
"Yes, you do," he says softly, his heart hurting with a painful joy at seeing how Alex, by being so concerned about his 'lack' of beauty, completely failed to see it's brilliance at all. And the completeness of his beauty was blinding. Unintentionally, his thoughts become mirrored in his eyes as he thinks this, and for a brief, starlit moment, Alex sees himself reflected back, devoid of any self-inflicted bias or empty imaginings. It was in the almost tender stare of the raven-haired angel, the way the light seemed to pour in and out of the violet eyes, and the soft, inviting stance of his lips. His whole body seemed to pour unsaid words, and they all stream into Alex's head, unchecked and undistilled. Paul suddenly seemed, to Alex, to be standing on the top of a mountain and in the depths of a blackened chasm both...the very essense of life thrumming and chanting in his blood. The eyes of a warrior, Alex thinks formlessly. The face of one who has seen the stars fall, and held their hands as they perished. The realization of Paul's thoughts comes crashing in, and it is with a gasping chest and blood-drained face that Alex is left with this. Paul drags his messenger's eyes off the frozen visage of Alex and back to Nathan, who is staring at his brother in puzzlement and does not hear Paul's question until it is repeated a second time.
"Did I... somehow manage to scare you guys away?"
Nathan blinks, and ripping his gaze off his brother, focuses on Paul.
"Huh?" He asks stupidly, blinking uncomprehendingly at Paul. Paul moistens his lips slightly and shrugs nervously, and Nathan stares at the pink quicksilver of his tongue as it darts across his lips, leaving a trail of glittering dampness... "When?"
"That night. At Detours. Since then, you've been.. really hard to get ahold of."
Nathan frowns, slowly convincing himself to look away from Paul's lips. "No, no..." he says, affixing Paul with a puzzled stare. "Why do you think that? How would you.. scare us away?"
Paul looks down as he tries to formulate a clear answer to this, but before he can open his mouth, a sudden rap on the door makes them all jump. Alex is the first to move, opening the door quickly, revealing a grinningly expectant Kip. Paul laughs as Alex's face erupts into a disarmingly boyish grin, and he smiles quietly to himself as Kip strides forward and envelopes Alex in a gentle, encompassing hug. They hold onto each other for a long moment, for which Paul casts his eyes aside, feeling somehow an intruder as he sees the golden glow in Alex's eyes and the tender stroking of Kip's fingers on his arm.
"Hey," Kip whispers into Alex's ear, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to Alex's earlobe and neck before pulling away. They separate then, but not fully. Slender fingers entwine around gangly, paint-stained ones, and the twin smiles on their faces sends a thrill of happiness careening down Paul's spine.
"Well, we're going to go now," Alex says, his previous discomfort forgotten, smiling at Paul and Nathan as they leave. Nathan smiles and nods at this brother, holding open the door for them as they pass through it and closes it softly behind them. As he flicks the lock, he turns back to Paul, offering a gentle smile as he meets Paul's violet and grey gaze.
"Come on in. Sit down for a while, if you don't have anywhere urgent to get to."
Paul shakes his head as Nathan leads him to the tan psuedo-leather couch, sitting down next to him carefully.
"No, I don't have anywhere else to go just now," he says, unconsciously running his fingers over the smooth texture of the couch cushion, luxuriating in the pliant embrace. Nathan watches this for a moment, the clean fingernails and symmeterical fingers burning sharply into his memory.
"So. Why did your dad's girlfriend's kids refuse to be adopted by your dad?" Nathan asks, lifting his gaze off Paul's fingers to find his attentive eyes. Moving his fingers from the couch, Paul folds his hands between his knees, resting his forearms on his thighs and leans forward slightly. His voice, when it comes, is laden down with weariness and exhaustion.
"They don't like me much."
Nathan frowns, arching an auburn eyebrow slowly. "They don't? Why the hell not?"
Paul laughs in spite of the unhappiness making his fingers feel leaden, at the other's bewilderedly belligerant tone, and sighs, shrugging, turning darkened eyes onto him.
"It's a long story, but I guess it really all comes down to one thing."
Nathan listens quietly, blinking as he stares at the profile of Paul's face, seeing the shadows roiling in that usually calm, silent gaze. The slope of his shoulders looks suddenely shrunken, their usual broad subtlety downgraded as he talks.
"What is it?" Nathan asks quietly, cautiously. Paul glances over, a ruefully pained smile ghosting across his lips.
"Because I'm gay," he states simply, shrugging again.
Nathan slowly raises surprised, coldly indignant eyebrows, watching Paul with a frosty look of rage that tells the other that Nathan wasn't a stranger to homophobia.
"That shouldn't fucking matter," he says curtly, his dark eyes glittering dangerously. His voice is a white hot hiss, matching the sudden withdrawal of blood in his slender knuckles as his fingers curl into fists. Paul blinks slightly; he'd never heard Nathan swear before. It sounded so strange, to hear a word such as that roll so easily and maliciously from the depths of that Southern-sky voice.
"Yeah, well. Try telling them that. They think I have a chemical imablance in my brain; homosexuality is merely a disease of the mind, and all those who are gay need to be hospitalized," Paul says slowly, closing his eyes as the memory of one of the older kids telling him that comes flooding back.
He had stared into Timothy's unwavering ice-blue gaze (so alike his mother's) as Tim had said that, feeling the platinum flecks in his eyes fly out from the polar irises to splinter in Paul's heart. 'You make me sick,' he'd spat, his lips curling into an iron sneer. Blonde hair ravaged his Elvis-esque face, looking like a microcosm of the rightous rage storming through his soul. Paul hadn't been able to do anything but stare, which had gotten him spit on by the aryan wonder. 'Don't look at me, you freak. Don't be getting any of those queer thoughts running through your head, either. I'llhave your face busted up so badly your own mother wouldn't recognise you. Not that it matters - dumb bitch finally got something right by croaking so she wouldn't have to live with the disgrace of her son.' Paul had been sorely tempted to tell Tim that by staring at him, _hetero_sexual thoughts were beginning to sound pretty damn good, but thought perhaps that he wouldn't much like to live with his father's black mood if Paul had come home with battle scars.
Nathan's sigh snaps him out of the thorned memory, and he looks up into Nathan's combined angry and empathetic eyes.
"Foolish children. What does your dad think of the whole thing?"
Paul grins without humour at this, and leans back against the cushions, folding his arms loosely across his chest.
"Loathes me for it. He tries, though, sometimes to get past the fact that I'm gay but his revulsion gets the better of him every time."
Nathan nods sympathetically, squeezing Paul's knee softly.
"I know what you mean. Alex and I... our parents literally disowned us when they found out. We only hear from them on Christmas, and sometimes on our birthday. But alot of that, I think, had to do with the way they found out about it. What about your dad? How did he find out?"
Paul smiles another knowing, grim half-smile.
"Yes. Alot of it probably has to do with that aspect, I'm pretty sure." He clears his throat uncomfortably and after a moment, continues, dropping his gaze from Nathan's vigilant one. "I went to a Catholic school for most of my life, from a kid up until the eleventh grade. I got expelled from that school when they found out that I was gay."
Nathan sighs again, his fingers resting lightly , reassuringly, on Paul's knee. The touch is warm and soft, and Paul lingers in its feel hungrily.
"How did they find out?" Nathan asks after a moment, tilting his head to the side questioningly.
"I met someone there. Someone who had come from Canada, actually, and was there on exchange. We became very close, and eventually he told me he way gay, and that he had fallen in love with me. I'd never thought of the concept of being 'gay' before, but I knew that I found nothing repulsive about it. I had never been able to understand the craze over the girls in the neighbouring school; I found them dull and insipid. So when my friend told me about being gay, it all sort of come together in my head. I had a bit of trouble with it at first, because when I started realized I was gay, I had to deal with the storm of emotion that came with it. I'd never had a girlfriend, never had any sort of... sexual experience, and my friend opened all that up for me. I wasn't upset that I wanted him, I was just very scared by the idea of lust itself. But he eventually broke me away from the fear, and it was during our first time together, in that way, that the headmaster caught us. I got expelled, he got sent back to Canada. I haven't heard from him since."
Paul smiles at Nathan slightly as he finishes, shrugging non-commitally as Nathan's fingers tighten on his knee again. Liquid with sympathy, Nathan's eyes lock on Paul.
"You must of been heartbroken," he says softly, his very voice a tender, gentle caress. Paul runs his fingers through his hair as he replies.
"Yes, I was. But I felt wrose for him. He got deported because of me."
Nathan nods sadly, slowly. "What was his name?" He asks after a moment.
Paul's eyes are as clear as a silver-touched sky stretching on for infinity and ever onwards. They stare ahead, but don't stop at the wall opposite, Nathan knows. Staring into their depths, he is chilled as he sees the landscape of solitude and endless trial within that damning gaze, sees the hint of the memories and places that they stare into. And the way they look, just then, makes him want to cry. That look of searing, accepted pain, was as old as the earth. This angel had been there before, time and time again. A sudden vision of Arthur and Lancelot flashes in a jumbled mess through his brain.
"Kaelen," Paul whispers distantly.
And then, a memory. A hand, made beautiful by kinship and shattered sunset glow, resting on his own. Whispered words of love swirling around him like a sandstorm, eradicating any possibility of any other reality except for the one holding him close, the one whose voice was like the very spirit of diamond shine. Golden hair on a treacherously fair and slender arm, and his own named whispered again and again as white-hot lips press against his skin. He had reacted to that like nothing before it, and he suspects now, nothing after it ever again. He had heard gasp after gasp as he made his emotions manifest; the trembling body under his own was maleable to his insistant, desperate touch, his own moans of need were washed away on a tide of red and spice as fingernails dug into his skin. As Kaelen's body pushed up against his, an unamable paradise was found... their souls shrieking to merge as pain and pleasure overcame the body and release as sweet as morning fresh air escaped...
Nathan's fingers are tightening on his knee again, and Paul knows he is saying something, but the words get burned and consumed into nothingness by the vividity of the recolection. The memory begins to make itself remembered at a very base, cellular level, and it starts to burn its way through his soul and mind to touch his body, making his skin shiver and his muscles twitch. The warmth and reality of Nathan's hand on his leg does not help; the complete erotica of the memory seems to focus itself under Nathan's touch, and suddenly Paul can feel Nathan's light fingers everywhere, on his arms, in his hands, traveling down his back, chest, and finally dropping into a place burning with hidden fuel, a place long neglected but never forgotten, and making itself known in this breathless moment. He shudders as he feels it, Nathan's energy combining with the bittersweet memory of Kaelen's whispered lust, all of it burning in his groin unmistakably. No. Not now, a distant part of his mind screams, his body caught with tantalizing, debilitating pain upon the fine line of descending into desire and pulling away from it. Any longer now, and Nathan would know about it, he realizes fuzzily. Paul can feel an erection beginning to throb, his paradigm beginning to shift from his mind down to the darkness and silken richness of trembling desire.
"We were all worried when you disapeared, including Seth," Nathan says quietly, blinking slightly as he sees Paul's highly distracted expression.
Shaking himself slightly, Paul swallows and flashes a forced, half-smile towards Nathan and nods jerkily, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to clear the sudden cloudscape suffocating his thoughts. Thinking through the murk, his voice is a half whisper. "Seth." Swallowing again, he looks down with an inward wince as he remembers Seth's concerned earthen gaze when they'd met on the path heading towards the residences about a week ago. It didn't seem right, that such preoccupation and disharmony should exist in a gaze so beautiful merely because of him.
Nathan nods again, staring at Paul for a moment, his gaze long and calculating. Sandy eyelashes flecked with crimson hover languidly over half-closed eyes as the dark pupils regard the other, and then drop away quickly, with an air of something akin to finality, as though a descion had been made in that secret moment.
"Yes. Seth. Came to our place almost everyday looking for you. I gave him your room number, but I don't know if he went by or not."
Paul shakes his head dizzily, the remnants of that surreal, erotic experience just moments still coursing hazily through his veins, coupled with the thought that Seth had been searching him out was a little too much to handle just then.
"No. He didn't..."
Nathan nods, looking down as he picks at a peice of fuzz on the knee of his pants.
"So did they work it all out, then? Your dad's girlfriend's kids, I mean?"
Paul shakes his head, watching the peice of fuzz become captive of Nathan's quick fingers, and then be set free to plummet ponderously to the floor.
"Nope. It's going to drag on for a while," he replies, neglecting to add the acid words running angrily through his head: 'and now my dad and his girlfriend are fighting, all because her kids hate me, and they're talking of breaking up... all because of me.'
Pursing his lips, Nathan watches Paul for a while before standing up slowly, stretching as he does so. Looking down at Paul's upturned gaze, he offers him a sympathetic smile, and reaches down to rest a hand on his shoulder.
"Got time for a drink?" he asks, to which Paul shakes his head apologetically.
"Not really," he says, staring up into Nathan's smooth-crafted eyes with a lilting, enigmatic smile on his lips. "I've got a lot of work to catch up on. I just wanted to stop by and talk to you for a bit... thanks for letting me."
Nathan grins and nods, standing back a bit as Paul stands. "No problem. But.. I don't think we talked about what you came here to say, did we?"
Paul lifts his gaze from his destination of the door to find Nathan's, helplessly grinning as he sees the other's knowing, shrewd expression. Nathan grins back, and then tilts his head to the side in an inviting gesture, taking a step towards Paul quietly, his hands resting in his pockets lightly, waiting patiently for him to speak.
Lifting one painfully perfect shoulder in a dismissive shrug, Paul flashes him a wide, brilliant smile that is rare in its sweetness and completeness. Nathan swallows an involuntary shiver.
"Don't worry about it," he says, his grin disarming and shockingly sensual.
As he turns to leave, Nathan jerks from his standing position and darts forward, pulling Paul to a halt.
"No, I am worried. You... you thought you'd scared me... us... away? What did you mean by that?"
Sucking his lips in between his teeth, Paul narrows his eyes for a moment in contemplation, and then shrugs.
"The Seth thing," he says quickly, flickering his gaze up to find Nathan's eyes before dropping away again, unable to let himself convey the importance of this to him. He ignores the thrill that dances through his body, conjured up simply by having the ability to call such beauty by its name...
Nathan looks puzzled. "Seth thing. What Seth thing?"
Sighing inwardly, Paul gesticulates with an awkward hand, trying to convey the mess in his head.
"What I said. At the end of the night. About him. About Seth."
Nathan simply stares at him, his eyes gone blank with confusion. Paul swallows.
"You had asked me what I thought of him. And I told you."
At this, Nathan's face lights up with recognition, and then nods slowly, glancing up at Paul with a strange, almost distant smile.
"Oh. Right. No. You didn't scare us. I... just wasn't... expecting such a.... complete answer." It is Nathan's turn to gesture vaguely, embarassment crackling back and forth between the two like lightning.
Paul nods quickly, and then stands there silently, looking Nathan over carefully. Nathan can feel Paul's searching gaze pouring over his face, and reddens slightly as he feels it lock onto the lie and dig with it deeper into Nathan's heart, finding the core of the truth. Sighing softly as he knows his secret has been betrayed by the delving, he looks up to find Paul's expressionless purple eyes. Framed with a sweep of onyx lashes, they watch Nathan unnervingly; reflecting Nathan's lie back to him through a thousand shards and facets of purple brilliance.
"Okay. Well. Maybe a little," he says softly, unable to do anything else as lavender sharpness sears his soul.
"I didn't mean to. I didn't want to," Paul says, his voice one-dimensional and faraway.
Nathan nods hurriedly, desperately flailing outwards for some semblance of normalacy again, trying to avoid Paul's frighteningly clear eyes.
"I know. Look, its okay. Just... people aren't used to that kind of thing, right? I'm sure I'm not the only one who has reacted like that to things you say. In today's world, its not about qualitative. Its about quantitative and worth in material means. But you see the details; the little things that make things special... so when you said what you did about Seth... I don't know. Awed me, I guess, because you cut right to the core of everything he is. You even managed to see the demons he holds... something no-one else has ever been able to see, not even me. And we've been friends for a very long time. If I hadn't been there when he'd gone through all the things he has, I would have no idea. So... yes, it scared me. But not in a bad way." Offering Paul a half-smile, he shrugs and chuckles nervously. "I guess it also kind of made me wonder what you saw in me... if I was that transpararent to you, too."
Paul smiles here, too, but the gesture is unalike any other smile Nathan has ever seen. It was one he would think God would smile, when faced with the naive ignorance of humanity. One of compassion, patience, endless joy and messenger's burden of beauty. Like the soul of a song, it explodes within his eyes, makes it seem, for one incredible moment, that his smile has become bathed in unexplainable radiance. It pours out from his skin, and Nathan blinks as it cuts through bone and skin to root itself in his shaking heart.
Paul's voice is soft when it comes, like the darkest blue in a twilight sky, laced through with starlight and the promise of moonlight magic. "I see the same things in you, too. But where Seth is without knowledge of his beauty, you know of yours. His assurance and confidence is merely born of ignorance, but yours is birthed from a fear of being wrong. And that is when you are most beautiful... when you stand in front of a mirror and hate what you see. When you look into another's eyes and think you have no chance of sparking any sort of desire in their hearts because you are unworthy and unbeautiful, that is when you move me to the edges of the earth. Don't doubt your perfection... its so obvious to the rest of the world."
Impulsively, and blinking back sudden, absurd tears, Nathan reaches forward and envelops Paul in a tight, grateful hug. Paul laughs breathlessly and squeezes back, his eyes closing as he breathes in the clean scent of Nathan's skin mixed with the damp, raw smell of his tears. They embrace like this for a long moment, but eventually Nathan releases him once more. Smiling his farewell, Paul leaves, closing the door behind him without a word, leaving Nathan to stand there wordlessly, staring at the door and into the memory of Paul, smiling like an idiot and shaking with intermingled laughter and tears.
With a heavy sigh, Paul lets the keys fly from his fingers to land in a graceful arc on the chair beside his bed. Kicking the door absently shut behind him, not bothering to lock it, he heads into the room, shedding his backpack and top layer of clothes like a snake would shed its skin. The backpack thumps to the floor, and his shoes topple ponderously onto their graffitii'd sides as he steps out of them. Flinging his jacket off his arms, he tosses it onto the back of his chair before falling face first onto his bed with a grunt. He lies there for a moment, letting the exhaustion seep out of his bones through his skin, feeling it soak into the mattress supporting him. Groaning softly, he lets the good feeling wash him away for a moment before rolling onto his back. Flinging his arms out like dead weights, his left one dangles heavily off the side of the bed as the other hooks itself clumsily under his shirt. Yanking the garmet up and over his head, it too gets flung across the room, leaving Paul to flop back down again, his eye-length hair sticking up at crazy angles from the pull of the shirt.
He stares around his room slowly, blankly, a look of disgusted despair sinking in.
"I'm actually relieved to be here," he whispers to himself increduously. "I'm happy to be in a place I wouldn't call home under any circumstances. Jesus."
Swallowing, he involuntarily looks up over his bed as a bright flash of colour catches his eye. The rainbow flag ripples in some unseen breeze as it hangs on the wall, resplendant in its vibrancy upon the pale, unassuming wall. Swallowing again, he hurriedly looks away from it, wincing slightly as it reminds him of his plight.
"A souvenier of my failure," he whispers, staring up at it.
Kaelen had given it to him. Why he kept it, he didn't know... it only made him burn inside whenever he saw it. He closes his eyes slowly, running his fingers down the comforting dark blue of the soft sheets on his bed. Nestling comfortably into the pliant, undemanding embrace of his pillow, he sighs deeply, a sigh of peace. The twilight atmosphere of the room puts him at ease, and soon he is breathing steadily and slowly, feeling the soft abivalence of the room saturate him like silk. And without the distraction of outward movement, inner solace sweeps over him, transporting him out of his head and into the swirling light-dark realm of imagination thought.
Thoughts of Seth, again. Always thoughts of Seth. He remembers, with a pained, chagrined smile, how the only thing that had kept him from never returning to this place or any other, had been the memory of Seth's autumn-spice gaze; the unexplainable fairness of it.. the way the sandy lashes swept outwards in a long, languid embrace, framing the feminine eyes with a perfection that could leave him gasping if he dwelt on it too long. Just that thought. The thought of him, the beauty of Seth he would miss if he didn't return. The light in the darkness... a light ignorant of its own radiance, yes, but nonetheless brighter than all the suns of all the worlds. The memory of his movements.. his hands moving through the air as if sculpting it, the graceful, sexual curve of his full lips into a smile..
"What have you done to me..." It is whispered in a groan... a descent from the confused into the desperate... the last words almost a throaty moan as a vision of Seth's naked chest flashes across his mind, the way he had looked, holding that rose aloft for Kip to catch on canvas with his paintbrush, how the light had soaked into Seth's satin-chestnut hair tumbling around his shoulders... the way his muscles moved under his skin like panthers under a blanket made of velvet..
And then the shrieking desire. Never had anyone invoked in him such a response in his life. So instant, so complete... so all-encompassing and loud that it threatened to render him numb sometimes. Not only in body, but wholly in spirit. Without being in his presence, minutes seemed to drag along like years, leaving him torturously and horribly aware of being denied of Seth's gentle, magical enigmaticy. And when he was around... minutes became half-seconds, and then the paradise was gone all too soon, merely leaving a twisting, throbbing afterglow on the retina of his being.
"I miss you..." Whispered again, and then he is turning onto his stomach, hiding his face from the watching walls, burying his consciousness into darkness, soft and steady. He missed the sudden, sunshine laughter, he missed the casual, flippant remarks that seemed to hold the wry joy of his very creation... he missed, above all, the shining eyes and unawareness of his own beauty, which thereby magnified it to impossible levels... leaving Paul unable to do anything else but tremble. The world seemed Alive when Seth suddenly appeared into view. Like the whole thing.. trees, buildings, cars, the sky... the whole thing sat up to attention when Seth moved with his dancer's gait upon its surface.
"And its only been a week," he mutters, a helpless smile forcing its way through the threat of tears to eradicate them.
Sitting up slowly, he stares dully at the scattered mess of his clothing on the floor, and half falls out of the bed to head towards them, picking them up one by one. His backpack he tosses onto his chair, and his shoes he places absently by the door. Their navy blue base and white stripes shimmer softly in the half-light, words scrawled with purple magic marker on the white strips. "LET THE NIGHT COME/WE ARE NOT AFRAID", they proclaim silently, staring defiantly out into the encrouching darkness. Sitting down at his desk, he runs slender, long fingers over the papers littering its narrow surface, his eyes catching and holding the top pile. It was a pristine-white pile of sheet music, the black piano notes seeming to resonate sharply off the page.
Mostly Vivaldi and Mozart, the music was stuff he'd been collecting since he first started learning how to play piano. Eight or nine years ago now. But on the very top is a hesitant sketching, the music staffs wobbling and rushed, the notes half coloured in and finished. It is without a title, but the knowledge of what it is lives deeply within Paul's heart. Holding it lightly in one hand, he stares sightlessly down at the notes, remembering the countless times he'd found himself at his keyboard, eyes closed, fingers pouring out the music his soul longed to express, a single muse driving him to desperate completion. It is a simple melody, lilting and not without the eerie crescendo that is characteristic of his creations. It has no title, but its subject makes it self-explainatory. It was the melody that he found himself playing whenever his mind drifted to the earth-eyed angel. Seth. Just Seth. Maybe that could be the title, he thinks with a wry sigh, staring at the page silently, feeling familiar frustration and love both rising like boiling ice water through his chest.
Picking up a discarded pen, he begins to apply its black, scratchy ink to the paper, filling in the blank spots in the notes and reinforcing the music staff absently. Locked on thoughts of Seth, he becomes so immersed in his introspection that when the telephone rings, he jumps in shock, sending the pen spiralling across the paper and onto the floor. Cursing, he pushes his chair out and scrambles out from the narrow confines of the desk to dart across the room to the kitchenette, lunging to grab the reciever of the non-descript black phone before the answering machine invades. Plucking it off the handle, he places it to his ear, half hanging off the counter and his voice made breathless as he tries to inhale.
"Hello?" Quickly, curtly.
There is silence on the other end, and then:
"Paul?"
Frowning, Paul nods at the disembodied male voice, and then belatedly replies.
"Yeah, speaking.."
Another half moment of silence, and then the voice is filling the ear-peice again, shocking Paul with its closeness and fullness.
"I wasn't sure if I'd got the right number... it's Seth."
As he hears this, the familiarity of the voice slams into him, and in shock, he drops from the counter, landing somewhat shakily on his feet. Swallowing a couple times, he clears his throat nervously, excitedly. His mind begins to spark jerkily, and all his thoughts consist of are Seth's voice and Seth's name, over and over again. Heart hammering, he forces himself to reply to the waiting, breathing-filled silence on the other end.
"Hey..." Groaning inwardly, Paul kicks himself for the lame response, rolling his eyes in embarassment. Clutching the phone tightly, he feels giddyness sweeping through him as Seth's voice, all chocolate and spice, blooms into his senses again.
"Hey." An amber chuckle fills the line, and then trails off to a soft, sudden sound of breath as he moves, perhaps to a more relaxed position. "How have you been?"
Paul's eyes close, and replies in an unintended half-whisper. "I've been okay.. what about you?"
"Pretty good. I hope I'm not disturbing anything with this call... I just wanted to see if you were alright; I haven't seen you around for a while."
Paul's smile of helpless gratitude makes him feel faint with happiness, and he leans against a cabinet door as he tries to formulate some sort of reply.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I had to go home for little while to see my dad. Family stuff needed working out."
There is a sudden, prolonged silence after Paul says this, one where he can practically feel Seth's mind working over the words, wanting to ask questions but refraining. And then, lightly, casually:
"Oh, that's cool. But I thought you moved here from England...?"
"Yes, I did. I had been living with friends, and then decided to move to Canada, because my dad was here. He left right after my mother died. He moved to Thunder Bay, so I had to go down there for a little while. Sorry to worry you..."
Again, the soft, almost breathless chuckle. "Don't be sorry. I'm glad you got back okay."
Paul smiles with closed eyes, holding the phone like a lifeline. "Thanks..."
He can hear Seth moving around on the other end; the sound of solid objects knocking against each other tells him that some sort of dishes or glasses must be being touched.
"You're welcome..." His voice sounds gently amused, and it thrills down to Paul's trembling fingers. He is quiet for a second longer, and then his voice is filling the line again, the words slightly, suddenly clumsy. "You ever planning on coming back to Detours?"
Paul's eyes open for a moment, and he tries to calm the beating of his heart as his mind begins to twist those words into some sort of desired invitation. No, it was just an innocent question. Relax. Take a cold shower.
"Yeah... whenever I can convince someone to go with me..."
Seth's soft laughter, and then his voice again. Paul begins to drown on its masculine sweetness...
"You don't need to convince anyone, I'm sure. But even if you can't find anyone, and I'm working, you can come and bug me all night... believe me, it would be greatly welcomed."
"You get that bored?" A gentle jest, with nervous, shaky laughter.
"Mmm... no. It's just that the place is highly lacking in intelligent life."
Paul snickers. "Then don't ask me to come... you'll start pulling your hair out."
An admonishing tsk floats across the line, coupled with a slow, languid chuckle that leaves Paul distractedly thinking of moonlight and sweet meadow grass.
"You're the most intelligent person I've come across in a long time. I... I dunno. I really enjoyed our talk the other day... it kind of stretched my mind out again... I don't know how to explain it..."
The flush that fires across Paul's face at this is brilliant and filled with delerious delight.
"..." he manages, and then Seth is hurriedly speaking again, obliterating any thoughts he might of created.
"Well.. I guess I should be letting you go... I only wanted to call and make sure you were alright. I don't mean to take up your time..."
"You're not." Quickly. Too quickly. Paul cringes, biting his lip deeply as the sudden swell of embarrassment crashes through him.
A long pause, and then: "You sure?"
The timid, hopeful tones of those two words makes Paul blink slightly, wonderingly.
"Yeah... I've been bored all night. I was going to go out for a walk, actually... I didn't have anything else to do."
"Oh... well... um. I should let you get to that..."
Squeezing his eyes shut, Paul lets his lips part before his mind can get in the way, his fingers squeezing the reciever tightly, hopefully and fearfully as the words tumble out.
"You could come... that is, if you wanted to... I'd love to have you... come for the walk, I mean..." His face feels like the depths of a long-burning blaze...
He burns in the ensuing silence. Oh, God. Grade A stupidity. Smooth, Paul. Very fucking smooth. Biting his lip so hard that it begins to draw blood, his fingers curl into his palm as he begins to kick himself for ever forming the thought of asking...
"I'd like that... I'd really.. like to."
His eyes sweep open, staring in burning hope at the fridgerator opposite. His eyes alight crazily as he begins to grin, shaking slightly with disbelief and excitement.
"Really? I... well... when?"
"Well.. when were you going to go?"
"Uh..."
"How about now?"
Grinning, Paul stands, gripping the counter for support as shy nervousness begins to squirrel through his chest.
"Sure... sounds.. good."
"Okay. I'll meet you at the crossroads between our residences in... um... how does 10 minutes sound?"
Hiding his painfully wide smile behind splayed fingers, Paul fights to restrain an incredulous giggle as a swirling, expanding giddyness begins to drug his senses. "Great! I'll.... I'll see you, then."
A throaty chuckle dances across the line, Seth's shimmering, sparkling voice following it.
"Awesome. See you in a few."
Paul waits until the click of the reciever on the other end sounds sharply in his ear before dazedly replacing the phone in the cradle. Staring down at at the black matte reciever, he blinks dizzily as the realization of what just occured hits him. A smile completely unbidden charges onto his lips, and he shakes himself, feeling the sudden tickling happiness beginning to balloon through his chest. Struggling to breathe, he jolts out of his motionless position and stares around the room, his eyes darting about as he runs his fingers through his hair nervously.
"Holy shit," he whispers, unable to hold back a giggle as he hears his tiny voice echoing back to him as it bounces off the taciturn walls. "I've got a date! An unintentional one on his part, and its in five minutes, but its still a date!" And with that, he grabs his coat off the back of the chair, steps into his shoes and is out the door with a hurried click. Smoothing his fingers through his hair anxiously, he looks down at himself as he breaks into a jog, sailng out of the residence's front doors. Tugging his shirt down so that it sits properly, he begins to head down the moonlit dirt road, his sneakered feet crunching with muffled sounds in the gravel as he passes over it. The night is alive with the breath of darkness; the trees whisper and speak in strange, hushed tongues as he slips past them, a dark-haired ghost in their ancient, watchful midst. Inky black presses in around him from both sides of the raod, the only light made visable is the faint blue-silver reflection of the moon and stars upon the gravel path. Soft, subtle noises murmur ceaselessly around him, merely lowering their intensity as he slips past befpre rising to their normal, eerie pitch. Newborn frogs serenade the bullrushes, birds trill suddenly and ghostly through the veil of sightless vastness. The rustly of underbrush nearby makes him quicken his step, not out of fear but merely out of the desire to not frighten whatever foraging animal might be feretting there.
As the path begins to bend, Paul wipes his sweating, jittery palms on the front of his jeans, eyeing the sulphuric glow of the road's only streetlamp through the moving black interlace of the trees. It looms a hazy, washed-out orange smear across the jagged horizon, and with it arises Paul's nervousness. Clearing his throat quietly, he again rakes his fingers through his hair, eyes locked on the approaching light. Relax, Paul, he tells himself uselessly, feeling alternate swells of anticipation and nervousness dart through his body, tingling uncomfortably in his fingers.
"I should just turn around right now," he whispers shakily, as his feet round the bend, bringing the crossroads into view. Reluctantly, he makes himself look into the light to check for Seth.
The streetlamp is situated on the side of the road, the pole seeming to emerge like some accident of nature out of the unimpressed, grudging shrubbery. An undecorated pillar of grey, it rises tall and implaccable into the darkness, a glowing oblong bulb extending horizontally from the tip, like a drop of water illuminated in sunlight. From the bulb pours a bright neon amber brilliance, turning the world it illuminates into a landscape of the untouchably surreal. Paul sees all this in a glance, his gaze dropping from the light to lilt on the figure pacing idley under it, bathed in the dusky orange glow that falls like a spotlight to illuminate him. Paul stops moving as he stares, feeling his fingers go slack at his sides as his heart begins to ache in the painfully familiar way it always has whenever he sees Seth.
Seth, Seth. A creature of the night, merging so perfectly with its stain velvet softness. Moving lightly within the circle of light, Seth paces in some random pattern, the faint sounds of the gravel taking on his balanced weight reaching Paul's ears as he watches. That leather jacket again, he sees dazedly. The tight, waist-length one that made his mouth go dry whenever it hung upon Seth's subtly strong shoulders, matching the contours of his chest perfectly, tapering down to his maddeningly trim hips. His fingers begin to throb achingly as his eyes begin to burn twin holes into Seth's jacket, his mind flying up and out as he remembers their first meeting; Seth's shirt hanging around his elbows and waist, exposing the orgasmatically glorious nakedness of his chest... skin as soft as a dream of desire, muscles as patient and lethal as bobcats begging to be touched in a voice made of whispers and moans in the night...
Paul blinks, shuddering as the memory makes his skin sweat. Hands shoved into the worn pockets of his jacket, Seth stares down at the ground as he traverses it, eyes hidden by the tumbling mane of chestnut glory pouring down his back and adorning his shoulders. The orange-cola light rests in the caramel-highlighted curls, shimmering sleekly as they shift with his movements. With a tiny indrawn breath, Paul shoves aside the ingrained, haunting memory of those curls brushing up against his cheek, Seth's hand resting firmly, perfectly on his own. 'Sit the hell down, please,' Seth had whispered; Paul can still feel breath as heavy and sweet as morning mist carressing his ear. He could fall into that voice, the one that inspired him to write endless songs, drink kahlua with cream because it was the closest thing he could think of to making those sensual tones his own.
But then he realizes he is moving, walking silently towards the circle of streetlamp shine, approaching Seth's oblivious form. Seth's scent reaches his senses before his outstretched hand can touch lightly the leather-covered shoulder, and it is in a trance of cologne and old-books perfume that Paul's eyes meet Seth's. Turning at the unexpected touch, Seth bumps into Paul, a surprised "oh!" escaping from his lips as he realizes who it is. The warmth from Paul's hand on his shoulder sears him instantly, and his body stiffens tautly at the feel of it, one unlike any touch he'd ever experienced before. Raising his eyes then, he falls into a sea of violet oblivion.
"Hey," Paul says, in a half-whisper, which seems fitting for the moment, considering that the painful, shattering beauty of the one before him demanded nothing less but complete supplication. I want to kiss you, he pleads silently as he watches Seth's earth and forest coloured eyes lock unmovingly upon his own. Just to show you how much you move me... I wouldn't ask for anything else... just the unbelievable chance to touch those lips, to feel your breath merging with mine. I could move my hand from where it is now, slide up the side of your face to let my fingers get tangled in your hair, and pull you into me. I could have you down on the ground in an instant, you wouldn't feel a thing, I swear... and I would show you how much my heart hurts for you... I would show you in the tenderest kisses, and in the most painful restraint. I would hold you down, under this streetlamp shine, and touch you until you shoved me away or begged for more...
They are inches apart, neither of them having moved from their initial positions of meeting. Something nameless burns in Paul's gaze, and it shakes Seth to his very darkest core. The hand on his shoulder no longer makes him feel strange, it instead feels like an extention of himself, and if it were to be removed would likely cause great, weird pain. Supressing the urge to turn his head away from the purple brightness assailiing him, he instead offers Paul a slow, intimate smile. Unbeknownst to Seth, it sits softly upon his lips made candy amber by the light, and unbeknownst to Paul, the vivid violet radiance of his eyes tells the subconscious part of Seth's mind exactly what Paul thinks of that magnetic, spice-scented smile.
Both of them shiver. And then the flushes invade each suddenly shy face, and they look away from each other, clumsily and without knowledge trying to eradicate any remnants of the telling moment. Paul removes his hand, oblivious of Seth's wince, and Seth takes a step back, shadow falling onto his face as the light shifts across it. He offers Paul another smile, pushing the hair out of his eyes as he does so.
"Hi... thanks for letting me come out with you," he says after a moment, refusing to let the nervous butterflies in his stomach gain any purchase.
There is no getting around Paul's beauty. It hits Seth like a tidal wave, smashing him to peices again and again, ressurecting him only to break him down again.
"No problem... thanks for.. for wanting to," Paul replies clumsily, dropping his eyes at Seth's clear gaze. "Where did you want to go?"
Smiling, Seth lifts his gaze off Paul's slowly blushing face to look around into the darkness, lifting his shoulders in an eloquent shrug. "Anywhere and everywhere. Care to lead?" And with that, he steps aside, extending an arm to let Paul lead the way, the smile on his face lopsided and achingly charismatic; the way it hangs on his lips is like a loose swathing of silk upon hidden delights... it suddenly reminds Paul of satin sheets covering a body clad only in moonlight and gentle air..
"Okay," Paul replies, grinning and moving ahead of Seth, stepping stridently into the darkness. After a moment, Seth falls into step beside him, about half a foot away. His hands still jammed into his pockets, he looks over to Paul, his eyes glittering like soft stars in the silver spaceshine. Paul glances back, and they share a silent moment before Paul's shyness overtakes him and he looks down, words bubbling out of his mouth before he has time to think about them.
"I felt really bad about leaving and not telling you guys... but I didn't have much of a choice. My dad was pretty insistant about getting me down there."
Seth is silent for a moment as they walk, his contemplative gaze locked on the path. When he speaks, it is with a caramel lightness, the gentle tones of his voice lifting and merging with the cool forest breeze.
"That's okay.. I'd just wondered where you'd gotten to. One minute you were there, and the next you were gone again. But I get the feeling that isn't an uncommon thread in your life."
Paul looks up at him as he says this, and Seth offers him a quiet, clairvoyantly sympathetic smile.
"How so?" Paul asks timidly, suddenly thrust into the spotlight of unfamiliar and alien attention.
Seth's fingers are sudden pale flashes in the shadow as he lifts them from his pocket to push his hair out of his eyes.
"I don't know how to explain it.. it's just... very apparent. It's in the way you stand, and talk.. and walk... as if you're always ready to fly away. Like you're waiting for things to change again."
Paul blinks, and almost hesitates in his stride. Staring in undisguised surprise over at Seth, he runs his tongue over his lips nervously as Seth's softly uttered words hit home. Seth watches him quietly, inwardly sighing as he finds his guess to be confirmed. Slowly, as not to startle the other, he closes the gap between them somewhat, just enough so that the sleeve of his jacket brushes minutely against Paul's navy blue coat. Closing his eyes for a moment, he feels Paul's nearness as acutely as he would if he were immersed in water; the electric, other-realm feeling of Paul's being bathes him dizzyingly. Paul stares at the ground as he feels Seth moving, and desperately tries not to gasp as Seth's aura sinks into his skin. The closeness of the other does not surprise him, not with the way the conversation has suddenly shifted, and he is humbled by Seth's nearness. He can practically feel the other's arm existing beside him; visions of the supple strength of it flashes through his mind, the skin and muscle hidden under the sleekness of the leather.
"I didn't... know I gave you such an impression," he half-whispers, trying to force a smile onto his lips.
Seth gaze is as obvious on the side of his face as if coal were burning there.
"I doubt I can see half the things you can see about people."
Paul cannot hide the deep flush that cascades onto his cheeks, and it is with a flicker of wide wonder that he drops his eyes off the calm profile of Seth's serenely beautiful face.
"Believe me," he murmurs, his voice suddenly raw and distant. "You wouldn't want to see half the things I can see about people."
Seth's soft chuckle assuages the sudden howling pain in his chest, and the starlight reflecting in the earth-toned gaze puts his suddenly swirling mind at ease.
"Try me. What is it that you see, Pwyll?" The voice is slow and languid, deliberate and full of depth.
Looking up in another flush of surprise, he loses himself in Seth's enigmatic smile, and grins back stupidly, staring at him for a moment before replying, unable to rid himself of the smile.
"I'm not deserving of such a name," he says, eyeing Seth in a curiously quiet way.
"Mmm. Yes, you most certainly are. When I read that book, Pwyll was the character I found the most captivating."
Grinning shyly, Paul bites his lower lip. "I am nowhere near as awesomely cool as that guy," he says, laughing softly.
"You have purple eyes," Seth counters, winking over at Paul's mirthful gaze.
"So? That's hardly enough to count."
"Well, it's still awesomely cool."
"No, it isn't. I used to get teased about them all the time... the kids at my school somehow got the idea that it looked like I had permanently bruised eyes."
"Sounds to me like they were desperate to find something wrong with you," Seth replies after a moment, winking again.
Paul chuckles throatily, falling in love with the quick movement of Seth's lashes flashing over one myriad-coloured eye; the epitome of unintentional grace.
"It's not hard, when you start looking," he says softly.
Seth's arm brushes nearer. "Then I must have awful eyesight," he replies slowly. "Because I've been looking."
Paul's eyes instantly lift to probe the other's face as those words are uttered, shock thrilling through his body as his mind registers the meaning. His lips part without intervention of his mind, and it with a stupid, blank expression that he stares at Seth, who merely looks over and into Paul's wide, blinking eyes. Don't take that the wrong way, Paul thinks to himself as Seth's eyes search his own. Unintentional, probably. Horribly unintentional...
"You're a nice guy, Paul... get used to it." A grin zooms onto his lips, and Paul grins back weakly, running his fingers through his hair.
"Thanks..." he says, shaking his head slowly.
Watching him for a moment, Seth smiles to himself and sticks his hands back into his pockets, changing the subject quickly.
"So does this happen alot, where your father requires you to go visit?"
Paul shakes his head, grinning wryly. "No, just lately. Most of the time he wants me as far away from him as I can get."
"What's been happening lately, if I may ask?"
Paul lifts his gaze to stare into the darkness ahead. "My dad's girlfriend is trying to get my dad to adopt her kids."
Seth quirks a finely crafted eyebrow in mild puzzlement. "So what does that have to do with you?"
Trying to discern the road ahead, Paul's eyes narrow absently. "Her kids don't want to be adopted."
"Again, what does that have to do with you?" Confusion is ablaze now in Seth's gently inquiring voice.
Paul smiles slightly. "Absolutely everything."
The cryptic answer does not sway Seth, merely intensifies his want to understand. "They.. don't like you, or something?"
"Yeah."
Lifting his brows perilously high, Seth frowns at this but decides from the suddenly tense tones in Paul's voice not to push the subject any longer.
"Well, you should kick their asses."
Paul laughs then, a suddenly sincere sound in the night, and it sets Seth's spirit alight.
"I'll think about it."
Seth chuckles, and then lifts a hand to push some stray strands of hair behind the soft shell of an ear, and then looks over as he hears a surprised "hmm!" from Paul.
"What?" he asks, smiling wonderingly at Paul's suddenly shining eyes.
Lifting a slender, sinfully pretty finger, Paul points at Seth's ear, his eyes alive with intrigue.
"That's really cool."
Blinking, Seth follows Paul's finger with his hand, coming to rest on the earring dangling from his lobe. Grinning in realization, he smiles over at Paul, a softly shy grin dusting his lips.
"Thanks."
Paul watches the earring dance and glitter in the moonlight. It is a spiralling dragon, it's bared teeth clutching onto the soft skin of the lobe, while its sleek, pewter body falls in a graceful two-inch long spiral. It catches the light in an almost sinisterly brilliant way, making the scales seeming to be moving of their own accord, and the garnet eyes glitter ominously, a strange intelligence lying dormant in the blood-red facets.
"Where did you get it?"
"It was my brother's."
"It's very beautiful," he says, smiling helplessly at its gothic, exotic beauty. "It suits you."
Seth grins. "Thanks."
They walk in silence for a bit longer, breathing in the night. It swirls around them like an invisible tornado, tugging at their existances seductively. Paul is silent, immersing himself in Seth's presence, hearing the sounds of his existance coinsiding with the other's, and thrilling in the undeniable reality of its beauty. Nervousness sits like lead in his bones; he cannot shake its invisible strength, but somehow the very presence of the one making him nervous was the one who was also making him feel more alive than he'd felt for a very, very long time. It had been quite a while since he could say he'd actually been aware of the heart beating not ten inches away from his own, or the blood rushing healthily through a body that was alert and crackling with powerful perfection.
"How do you like the university so far?" Seth asks suddenly.
Grinning, Paul shrugs. "It's very... interesting. I like the buildings, they're very old. The courses are fun, too, but some of the professors kind of leave me wondering."
Seth laughs softly, a melodic trill of song. "Yes, I know what you mean. I heard about your little confrontation with Professor Smythe."
Dropping his gaze to hide his tiny, helpless smile, Paul flashes sheepish eyes Seth's way.
"She's not so bad."
Raising an eyebrow, Seth turns a quietly amused, incredulous expression onto Paul, shaking his head slowly.
"I think you're the first one for being late that she hasn't reccomended to the school tribunal for expellation."
A mock grimace crosses Paul's face, mirth dancing lavender in his eyes, making Seth laugh again, a warm feeling spreading throughout his chest.
"Like that would be so horrible," Paul mutters.
A snigger, and then Seth's elbow is jabbing into his side. "Of course it would. We'd never see you again."
Paul grins wanly at the ground as he hears this, words on the tip of his tongue and a longing deep in his heart. Why couldn't it be you saying that, he asks Seth silently, his eyes closing for a moment. Give me some reason to justify this howling love..
"Eh, you'd be alright. Just have some crazy memory of some weird British guy for years to come."
"Not a crazy memory." The words are soft, gently admonishing, and they make Paul look up into Seth's calm, steady gaze. A blush tingles at the edges of his cheeks, and as he is looking away again, Seth has launched into something else, his voice its normal amber pitch.
"When I first came here, I met Nathan and Alex the hour I arrived on campus. How's that for a first impression?"
Smiling, Paul casts his gaze into the welcoming darkness of the trees, needing to look away from Seth for a moment.
"I bet you didn't know two people could be so exactly the same in their flamboyancy."
Seth's delighted laughter floats like mithril gossamer before Paul's eyes, dragging his gaze back to the sparkling-eyed young man beside him. Paul grins helplessly at Seth's wide, dancing eyes, at the fingers covering his cherry-red lips and the curls blowing about his androgynous face like something out of a pagan tapestry. The wind is luckier than a dragon harbouring timeless treasure... that it gets to cling and carress that hair is beyond luck... its fucking unfair...
"That is exactly what kept me so disbelieving the entire time they had me in their clutches. I was almost tempted to stay around them for that, if nothing else."
Paul giggles, and nods. "I know what you mean. But you seem to have gotten close... they love you alot."
After a moment, Seth nods, a contemplative gesture of admittal.
"Yes, and I don't know what I did to deserve that from two such extraordinary people, but I'm not complaining."
Paul glances over at Seth quickly. "You're not so bad yourself, you know," he says quietly, looking down at the ground as his fingers latch onto each other.
Seth looks back over at Paul as he hears this, and a sudden orchestral cachophany of music swirls around him within the depths of his mind as he stares at the profile of Paul's face, of the way the breeze seemed to go gentle with him, delicately touching the raven strands as if afraid to mar or somehow hurt them. The completely sexy elegance of his face was like a candle in the darkness; he wanted to run his fingers over the streamlined features, wanted to prove to himself that they were indeed that beautiful, it wasn't some trick of the eye...
"From what I understand, they have taken quite a shine to you, as well," he says softly, a slow smile dripping onto his lips as an idea forms in his head, a curious spark flickering slowly within. "Especially Nathan."
Paul blinks, and frowns slightly into Seth's watching, earthen gaze.
"Nathan..." he repeats slowly, echoing Seth's voice. The puzzlement that sits on his face prompts Seth to clarify, which he does with cautious awkwardness.
"Likes you. Alot." The words are quick, almost too quick. He tries to fend off the wave of jealousy at the admittal, one that he knew from simply watching the red-haired twin, not one that had been voiced to him by Nathan. But the jealousy sweeps in, a sudden discordant wave of iriitating knowledge that makes his eyes lose their spark to a darkness blooming within. There was nothing he could do about it.. he couldn't exactly storm into Nathan's presence and demand that he stop his affections for Paul, because he could no more demand that of himself. The desire in his heart for Paul was a worrying, intense one, and he knew that if Nathan ever found out about it, mortification would be the least of his worries. He had seen it in the dark watchfulness of Nathan's gaze, of the wide, unhindered smile that came crashing onto his lips whenever Paul came into the room, and the flash of sadness that sparked within them when he left.
Paul stares over at Seth in the silence, his eyes wide and wary, a deepening blush throbbing on his cheeks as he comprehends the meaning of Seth's words.
"I...uh," he manages, blinking as Seth raises eyes cloaked in an unreadable expression to him.
"You know he's gay, right?" Seth asks, deciding to get straight to the point.
"Yes..." Paul says, speaking past the sudden tightness in his throat and the embarrassment constricting his lungs. "I... just.. didn't know that.... he..." his voice trails off in a comet blaze of chagrined wonder.
Seth watches him for a moment, trying to rid the partially bitter and saddned smile that desperately wanted to arrive onto his face.
"Ah. Well, don't say anything to him... I'm sure he'd probably come after me with a machette if he knew I said anything."
Paul forces a smile, and nods jerkily.
"Okay," he whispers, eyes staring distantly out into the night. So this is what this was. Some sort of... set up thing... matchmaking disaster or something. Seth wanting to let him know how Nathan felt, in case there was any way of him reciprocating, when there was a better chance of a snowman forming in the depths of a volcano. Anger-filled frustration begins to burn...
Seth blinks as Paul stops walking. Turning to walk back to Paul, he stops several feet away from him, staring at the sudden stillness in Paul's stance, the defensive position of his arms as they cross his chest. The darkness in the normally sensuous lilac eyes disturbs Seth, makes him shiver and his eyes to blink worriedly. They stand like this for some time, Paul locked into the shadows swirling around inside his head, and Seth boring his gaze into Paul's unseeing one, trying to discern the sudden change that festers there. When worry and loathing of watching Paul do this becomes too much, Seth takes an urgent step forward, reaching out an arm to snap him out of it, his brows furrowed in distressed fear.
"Paul... shit, I'm sorry," he begins to say, but the sudden lifting of Paul's eyes onto his stops his words in their making.
What was once distant is now uncannily clear, and the purple irises are as implaccable and angry as stone as they stare out at Seth. Seth feels the blood draining from his face as Paul's gaze skewers him, and the hand that rests on Paul's arm falls away as though burnt.
"I don't feel the same way."
Blinking, Seth stares at Paul as those simple words, crackling with authority, come charging out into the night. Oddly, Paul's breath smells like mint, and throws Seth off for a second.
"Okay," Seth says slowly, unable to look away. "Okay..."
"I need you to know that."
Seth nods slowly, confusion and unsure emotion swirling through him as he stares at Paul.
"I... okay. I understand. I'm.. sorry..."
"Why are you sorry?" The words are slightly calmer this time, approaching their usual soft levels. The gaze, however, is still alien and angrily strange.
"I... didn't know you... um." Seth gesticulates weakly, blinking back sudden furiously unwanted tears. Why am I crying? he asks himself deleriously, just managing to hold them back. "I'm just sory. I knew you weren't gay or anything... I just thought...I... please... don't think that I thought that, okay? I'm sorry..."
Paul's eyes diminish then. The resolute anger drains out of them as quickly as it came, and suddenly he is left with nothing but the purple eyes he'd seen in countless dark dreams.
"That's not what I was trying to say," he whispers, looking down, a sudden expression of pain wincing onto his face.
Seth blinks at him, wondering why the only grounded thing surrounding him was Paul, why the path below them seemed to be gyrating and why the sky suddenly seemed upside down.
"It wasn't?"
Paul shakes his head, taking a slow, deep breath. He stares into Seth's eyes, and with deliberate caution, decides to let it go. Fuck it, he whispers to himself silently. Just fuck it. You've probably weirded him out enough tonight for him to never talk to you again anyway... so just fuck it.
"I just meant that I don't feel the same way about Nathan. I'm not homophobic or anything..."
Seth hears the subtle change in the tone of Paul's voice, and realizes suddenly and with a wild flare of strange hope that he is hearing, for the first time, Paul's voice without its usual veneer of hidden facade and meaning. It is a beautiful voice, and he longs to hear the message it is struggling to deliver, his mind already desperately trying to pull the words he needs to hear out of Paul's mouth... the words he'd heard in every waking and sleeping dream... please say it... please don't break my heart now... I need a chance.... something so beautiful can't be denied of my trying...
"Okay," he whispers again, unaware that his eyes have become translucently brilliant, their shimmering brilliance making Paul's knees go weak.
Fuck it, Paul whispers again to himself. He still hangs around Nathan and Alex when he knows they're gay, so maybe... I just can't not say anything now... better he knows now than me doing something stupid later and him finding out in the worst possible way...
Dropping his gaze from Seth's endless one, he speaks again, closing his eyes in fear as he does so, wanting to ward away the reaction he fears will come...
"He's very beautiful... I'm just not attracted to him. But it's not because he's a guy or anything... he's just... not..." Struggling with his words, he winces as each inelegant one comes out, unable to look up at Seth as he does so. "Do... you.... do you understand...?" Squeezing his eyes shut, he pleads Seth to have understood, a blush as brilliant as Mars' red surface burning on his cheeks.
"Not your type?" The words are breathless, almost without sound. Paul looks up.
"Yeah..." he whispers back, staring with shock into Seth's eyes. No anger burns there. No disgust, no fear. Simply understanding.... mixed with something else so profound that it makes Paul shake. He never knew someone's eyes could glow so brightly...
"Does he know.... this?"
Paul swallows. "What... that I'm... that I'm gay?"
The glow is crazed with radiance. Paul's knees go weak, and his lips part in astonishment. But Seth's voice is calm, so dazedly, Paul tries to find some logical explaination for the brightness...
"Yeah."
He nods, and Seth suddenly closes his eyes.
"Okay," Seth says, and when his eyes open, they are almost normal once more. "Well, I'm sorry for making you upset about that then..."
"That's okay," Paul manages, staring at Seth.
Seth offers him a smile, and then moves past him, the way they came.
"It's getting late," he says quietly. "We should be getting back."
Silently, they walk back. But when they come upon the crossroads, Seth looks over at Paul, snapping him out of his introspective storm.
"Come by Detours tomorrow? I'll buy you a drink; it's been too long since you've been there."
Paul blinks, and smiles wonderingly. "Okay," he says softly, tilting his head slightly.
"Thanks for the walk, I'll see you tomorrow."
And with that, Seth flashes Paul a radiant smile and a quick wave, dissapearing down the path, leaving Paul standing in the light of the streetlamp, gazing after the tall, slenderly elegant figure, a riot of emotion pouring through him.
"What just happened?" he whispers slowly, beseeching Seth's distant form. Oh dear God, don't let me have fucked up something so perfect...