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neil lifts his hand and watches his mirror image do the same, damaged skin wrinkling over clear flesh. his stomach sinks as he traces the damaged lines gleefully carved through him as if he were a piece of meat, as if that& #39;s all he was ever meant to be. a ruined, carved out shell
- a painted canvas full of colors that weren& #39;t his choice. a permanent reminder that his body belonged not to himself, but to the world he was born into, damaged and cruel.
he didn& #39;t know how long he stood there, his name being spoken in the background
he didn& #39;t know how long he stood there, his name being spoken in the background
neil flinched as sudden light bathed the room. in panic, his arm shot out to fight the intruder, only for andrew to catch his fist.
neil could feel his heart hammer away, chest constricting in time with its beats. the feeling of wanting to flee but being so tied in place.
neil could feel his heart hammer away, chest constricting in time with its beats. the feeling of wanting to flee but being so tied in place.
andrew& #39;s gaze is steady, his hand warm but tight where he squeezes neil& #39;s, almost to the point of painful awareness. "look at me," andrew demands.
neil is looking, andrew is all he can see, he is -
"no, really look at me. look where you are."
neil sees, but he cant-
neil is looking, andrew is all he can see, he is -
"no, really look at me. look where you are."
neil sees, but he cant-
and andrew releases his fist, moves to hold his wrist instead. he turns neil& #39;s clenched fist palm up before using his other hand to patiently uncurl his fingers one by one. andrew flattens them enough so he can smoothly slot his fingers between his own.
"neil."
neil looks
"neil."
neil looks
andrew& #39;s gaze is searching as he holds neil& #39;s hand between his own, for what - neil doesn& #39;t know. he swallows roughly and looks down, his heart still erratic although not uncontrolably so.
andrew gives their tangled hands a squeeze and he& #39;s warm, his hand is so warm -
andrew gives their tangled hands a squeeze and he& #39;s warm, his hand is so warm -
it travels through neil, burning him up with steadiness that he doesn& #39;t yet feel. and in the mean time, andrew has plenty to spare.
neil feels like he does upon waking up from a nightmare - but he& #39;s awake, he& #39;s awake and his demons are still chasing him -
neil feels like he does upon waking up from a nightmare - but he& #39;s awake, he& #39;s awake and his demons are still chasing him -
blood & violence***
this time, most of them are dead and its all in his head - but are they really dead if he can still feel their hands lovingly caress his skin with their knives, if he can smell the mellatic taste of his blood in the air.
and its as if andrew can hear him
this time, most of them are dead and its all in his head - but are they really dead if he can still feel their hands lovingly caress his skin with their knives, if he can smell the mellatic taste of his blood in the air.
and its as if andrew can hear him
it& #39;s as if andrew knows.
and at that thought, neil forces his mind to focus on the man in front of him, who places his hand in neil& #39;s hair. his movements steady, always steady neil thinks, as andrew tilts him forward until their foreheads are resting against each other
and at that thought, neil forces his mind to focus on the man in front of him, who places his hand in neil& #39;s hair. his movements steady, always steady neil thinks, as andrew tilts him forward until their foreheads are resting against each other
neil lets out a shaky exhale in the space between their lips. his hand is still warm, his body weak, but neil battles with himself to not lean on andrew too much.
he deserves better, neil thinks. not me, never me.
but he lets himself stay, for now unwilling to part.
he deserves better, neil thinks. not me, never me.
but he lets himself stay, for now unwilling to part.
