Never Alone

1 2 : 5 9 | A M

Elliot = Bold

Isabella = Italics

"Are you going to go home?" Isabella asked with undertones of curiosity in her voice as she stopped in front of her apartment door, pulling out the keys from her handbag before she came to a complete halt. Beside her, Elliot was mimicking her actions as he attempted to unlock the apartment door on the opposite side of the corridor. Despite the gloomy start to his day, he was in a surprisingly cheerful mood. It had been a while since he had smiled and laughed so freely. It was refreshing. It seemed that laughing for the sake of no reason at all had its perks. He supposed that he needed to get out of the habit of laughing for the sake of laughing.

But then again, perhaps the only reason he could really laugh with Isabella was because she didn't know enough to pity him yet. But perhaps that was hypocritical, seeing as he often struggled not to pity her. Maybe they were just a rather happy pity party of two, too stuck in their own self pity to pity each other. 

He didn't know if that was a good thing.

Elliot shrugged in response to the question, not really in the right state of mind to think of 'home' or the mess of a family that resided there. He had been floating by the means of helium for the past couple of hours. And he wasn't quite ready to hit the ground yet. Even if he knew that it was inevitable. Which he did. And it was. All things had to land, whether it be intentional, accidental, incidental, graceful or catastrophic. A plane will run out of fuel. A bird will run out of energy. A butterfly will shortly die. And a helium balloon will touch the ground.

But he was determined to enjoy the flying feeling while it lasted, for the golden moments were as rare as gold itself. So he grasped onto the euphoria of a near perfect few hours and tucked them away into the depths of his head. For, he could only walk on sunshine so long before he reached the dark side of the moon, and memories of the light would remind him that it would only be so long before he could bask in the sunshine once more. He just had to remember that he would always reach the light, as long as he kept walking.

"We should do this again sometime." His words were more confident than he felt. He half expected to fall through the half opened door of the apartment, nervous that he would once again be eclipsed into shadow. For some reason, Isabella had brought him to the light. And, as selfish as it was, he wanted to stay there. Because, in the darkness, he couldn't see anything. Including the kind of man he was becoming.

She smiled. "Sure."

He felt the tension deflate from his shoulders, raising a hand to run his fingers through his hair as a sort of unconscious habit. "So...next Saturday then?"

Somehow, her smile didn't look tired. "Sure. What do you want to do? Not another round of ice skating, I hope. I'm not sure my bruised knees can take any more damage."

And there he was again, laughing for the sake of no reason at all. "No. Definitely not ice skating. I'll come up with something."

"Alright...see you next week, then?"

He nodded with a smile. "It's a date."

"..."

"..."

She burst out laughing.

He turned bright red.

"That's not what I...that's not what I meant."

"I know. It's your reaction that's so funny."

He rolled his eyes, his smile anything but reluctant as he stepped into the apartment. "See you next week?"

She was still laughing. "See you next week, Elliot."

He would look back on that moment and realize himself to be an idiot. Isabella did not bring him to be the light. That would be impossible. For, a person cannot bring another soul to the light. A person has to save themselves. To bring themselves out of the darkness. However, in order to help said person, the sun can be there. The sun can be the thing that the human looks forward to seeing. Can be the thing that makes the moon want to turn that little bit faster so that he can see the light again.