AVATAR TWOW: Torn between the 2

Chapter viii| Despondency

N E T E Y A M
Despondency
PT1

AFTER DINNER I SNEAK AWAY on Kiri's cue with warm soup in my hands. She doesn't question me, though I see it within her transparent irises that she wants to. She brushes it off. At the moment I am thankful for her and her uncaring nature. I figure then that she's a great partner in crime.

My footsteps crinkle upon the fallen leaves and pointy grasses and the tiny rocks of dirt. I shove through the tall trees, my tail flicking and swaying. I smile as I reach the other side, my eyes set on Ao'nung's back that faces me.

The eclipse shines its light onto the pond that appears a crystallized blue, complimenting the boy's glistening turquoise skin that I will never tire of gawking over.

He doesn't turn or even peek, so I conclude that he hasn't noticed me yet. I sneak up from behind, my light steps reaching an end as I grasp his shoulders and yell "Boo!"

He hastily turns, shoving away my grip on his shoulders. His face gleams with a startle, and among the serene sky, I notice his red and puffy eyes and the light sniffles of his nose. I frown, something twisting inside me.

"What's wrong?" I ask him, reaching for his chin. My thumb caresses his cheek. He stares at me with uncertainty and seems to ponder. What seems like an eternity (though it had only been seconds) without words shared, he finally nuzzles into my touch.

"What's wrong?" I repeat, this time my voice is softer. He shakes his head and smiles. A forlorn smile, dull and aching. I hug him, uncaring his wet body pressing against mine that only fires cold shivers up my spine. His large hands wrap around my back.

"I miss home," He mumbles onto my shoulder. His breath raises bumps on my skin with a pleasant warmth—like the blazing heat of a bonfire.

I play with his bun. I open and close my mouth over and over again, wanting to say anything. But I cannot because I have nothing to say. I have no information to provide him. No idea how to get him home. I am clueless.

I can lie and hope that everything turns out fine in the end, but the dryness and knot in my throat differ. Everything is far from fine. Ao'nung is far from fine.

"Ao'nung, look at me," I croon, pushing him off my shoulder to look him in the eyes. My grip is gentle on his shoulders. There's defeat in his eyes. His azure eyes don't shine as blue, and they almost seem grey.

"I don't..." My voice chokes. My teeth grind on my lower lip, and I lean forward as I close my eyes shut. I fear looking at him in the eyes any longer. I don't want to unravel his myriad feelings of dismay and great sorrow. My forehead almost touches Ao'nung's own.

"I'm trying," I say, my tears prickling my shut eyes. My breaths speed up as well as my heart, thumping against my chest. The beat isn't light or loving, but rather painful, tearing, and fearful.

I feel his cold forehead clack mine. I linger there, trying to even my breathing, and once I open my eyes, I meet his fierce stare.

"I'm glad you're here. Thank you," He whispers, almost smiling a little. "Just so you know I had to cut the moment short because I wouldn't wanna see your big fat tears."

"My big fat tears you say," I laugh.

He nods, "Yes, your big fat tears. You forest Na'vi are really sentimental from what I hear."

"Who says?"

"My dad. The old man never lies."

I don't respond. I stay looking at him, my eyes darting around his weary and swollen face. I notice the lidding of his eyes and his frequent blinks.

"When was the last time you slept?" I ask him, demanding an answer. He darts his gaze to the side, not saying anything, though I already know the answer from the cower of his ears and the exhausted and guilty look in his eyes.

I sigh, scooting far, just enough. "C'mere," I motion towards my lap. His eyes go wide. He laughs nervously and shakes his head.

"Neteyam, don't be—"

"Lap. Now," I feign a snarl.

"But—"

"Ao'nung, don't make me get you by your queue," I threaten. He must've seen I was serious because he then slips out of the pond with hesitance, and gently rests his head on my lap.

"It isn't so bad now, is it?" I grin, laughing a little. He rolls his eyes, and rolls on his side, shielding his eyes away. I almost suck in my abs from the penetrating feel of his eyes right there. He plays with the fabric of my loincloth, and I let him, not bothering to say anything but ordering him to sleep.

"I'll leave later, is that ok?"

Frankly, I don't want to leave the boy's side. Not at this time when he's all alone and sad and vulnerable. But I can't risk my family having to search for me. I can't risk burdening them with worry.

"Yeah..." He croaks, squirming just a bit.

I lean back on my hand, my other one playing with the tie of his bun, lightly tugging at it. "When do normally have it loose?"

"When I sleep, but you're here..." He mumbles, the tiredness oozing through his voice as sleep gradually consumes him.

I cock my head, questioning: "What do you mean I'm here?"

"I don't want you seeing it. It looks bad...a mess...like a nest."

"C'mon, it can't be that bad, Fish lips."

"If it weren't for sleep, I would've smacked you for that sorry-ass nickname by now."

"Yeah. Sure," I lightly roll my eyes. Lately, that's all I do—roll my eyes. I must've gotten it from Kiri. She has her idle way of influencing people.

I wait a few minutes—maybe hours. He's snoring by the time I get him off my lap, and I return home by very dark when everyone is getting ready for sleep.

Mom asks me where I was, looking like she's about to skin me alive, but Kiri buts in, giving her believable excuse of "Neteyam got lost of time. Forgive him, mother."

It isn't a total lie. I did forget about time, though not for long. I was just waiting for Ao'nung to fall into slumber. As mom sighs and murmurs under her hasty breath, Kiri and I exchange looks.

Be on time next time, Her eyes seem to say. I nod and inaudibly thank her, both her and I trailing behind our mother.

That night as I lay in my hammock, I notice the banging of my heart. Maybe it's because of my hammock way above ground—though it's impossible as I've lived here all my life and never have felt this way during bedtime—or the chilly night breeze that rustles past, but I feel relieved.

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