𝐌𝐘 𝐑 | 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐟𝐞 𝐬. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐝𝐞𝐱 𝐝.

𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐢 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞.

𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄: 1 800 273 8255

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝/𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 

Alright, today's the day! Or so I thought

The sun was lower in the sky when Keefe walked back to the cliffside for the second time. The ray he had leaped on was warm, a buttery pink, the sun still beginning to set. He had stayed away for about a few weeks, restless, unfocused, hidden among humans. Then he found himself guided by the amber light back. The same trees parted their branches to let him pass, lightly, as if to not disturb the person already standing by the edge.

Just as I took both of my shoes off

A small, contained whirlwind of emotions, flowing in the wind. As if the other longed to let his feelings run wild, but was afraid of taking up space.

There was but a boy short as can be

He was almost invisible, leaning against a wispy tree, facing the raging waters in front of them. The only traces that he was there were his shoes placed neatly next to the tree, and his storm of emotions. Other than that, he was suffering in complete silence, as he always did.

Keefe knew that this was Jolie's tree, and that narrowed down who it could have been. But of course, he knew from the beginning, but wanted to deny it, for the sake of his friend.

Despite myself, I go and scream

Keefe's tentative walk turned into a full on run as he shouted to wait, and he skidded to a stop before he crashed into the tree. He almost put his hand on the other's shoulder, but then stopped. The other had his eyes closed and his expression was peaceful, but his cheeks were stained with tears. Wind blew through his unruly strawberry blonde hair, and he took a deep breath, barely showing any response to Keefe, even though he hadn't seen him in months.

The petite boy told me his woes

"You want to know why, right?" 

His voice was rough and broken.

"You've probably heard it all before"

Keefe frowned. Out of anyone, the other would have tried to cover it up, and smile. He was the best at hiding the pain in his periwinkle eyes, so well that no one noticed. Keefe's sadness for the other deepened, no one saw through him like she did for Keefe, no one was there like she was.

"Everyone ignores me, everyone steals"

Keefe started to say it was not true, to deny, but he realized it was. He remembered all the times he brushed the other off, how many times he was ignored, interrupted, forgotten. He stayed silent.

"I don't fit in with anyone here."

This was where Keefe broke. Even though everything else might have been true, this was not. Keefe thought the other had found a place with everyone, in Team Valiant, with all their friends. Again, he shouted, this time meaning to.

"For God's sake please! Are you serious? I just can't believe"

The other had no reaction. Keefe's voice cracked. The only way that was possible was if he was expecting that.

"That for some stupid reason you got here before me"

Now he had a reaction. He finally turned his head, periwinkle eyes meeting ice blue, searching, denying. Denying what he knew was true, until his sympathy, no, his empathy, Keefe realized, crushed him in waves, although, somehow, his emotions were quiet as they always were. Quiet, but somehow overwhelming. Like how the boy in front of him learned to be, with his wild curls and periwinkle eyes, always searching, always curious. Even now, in his despair, he looked and understood.

"Cause even so, you're still loved everyone at home"

This made him pause. He could see gears turning in the others head, could see him analyze the situation in a way only a technopath could. In his head, it was an equation, a new variable which he forgot to factor in, which completely changed the final answer. Nothing more, and nothing less. He was still thinking when Keefe spoke again.

"There's always dinner waiting on the table, you know!"

Keefe could imagine how it was like in Rimeshire about now, the others' parents setting the table, the triplets racing around the living room, maybe knocking over a glass of water, or throwing snowballs at each other. He wished the other was a telepath or empath, so he could tell what Keefe was thinking and feeling, and what he meant to say.

Even in this, the other seemed to be thinking about his family as well, for a small smile had made its way onto his face.

"I'm hungry," said the boy as he shed a tear

His eyes were glassy in the orange light, but this time he was wearing a small smile. He turned to face Keefe, but then, to his surprise, hugged him. His grip was firm, but Keefe could tell that it wasn't supposed to last long. But after being alone for so long, Keefe couldn't help but to lean in. They stayed like that, clinging on to each other, tired of holding the weight of cursed voices and titles and wars. Tired of seeing friends at places where no one should be, yet they were both there themselves. They let themselves hold on to the fragile safety of an embrace, underneath the sky of fire.

The other was the first to let go, and his cheeks were slightly stained again, but his eyes were clear and searching Keefe's own. They were a curious shade of blue in this light, tinged with warmth and an unreadable emotion.

A pause.

"Are you sure?"

The other knew, he could tell, he knew what Keefe wanted. He respected that, like the one before him, but he spoke. Keefe nodded, but his resolve wavered. But the other's smile was genuine, and he let out a breath that was almost a sarcastic laugh, as if he was saying "I knew it."

The boy short as can be then disappeared

He picked up his shoes, but took one last turn towards the sea. His hair turned to rosy spun gold in the light, and the wind picked up again, rustling the trees. By the emotion carried by the wind and his gaze, as if he was memorizing each beam of light glinting off of the waves, Keefe knew that he wasn't coming back soon, not to do this.

Instead of walking to the entrance, he raised his arm, the light passing through the crystal dancing in beams on the ground. His figure blurred, and then faded, and then only the warm imprint of where he stood remained. His emotions were last to fade out of the wind, and Keefe stood where he did before, staying until the last whispers of his friend faded.