Boundaries

Without Words.

I wake just after noon, the sun shining through the thin navy curtains.

Thankfully I didn't have to work until later on this evening, so I was able to enjoy this time with Hero without rushing about.

I look up and smile when I see him sleeping peacefully, his features softened and at ease.

It amazed me how someone could look so peaceful as they slept, all of their troubles and fears eradicated once their eyes shut.

For a while, after everything had happened, I dreaded sleep.

I only ever saw my mum, and the images were too painful to bear.

I wonder if Hero experienced similar things with his brother.

It was going to take some time for me to fully process everything he's told me. Our past few conversations have been filled with heavy recollections of our past, and it was hard to swallow I'll admit.

But I was overjoyed nonetheless that Hero had finally opened up to me.

It seems as though it was just yesterday, when he was simply a mere obsession to me.

Almost a figment of my imagination.

Now, we were tangled up in one another as we held the respective keys to each other's hearts.

We let each other in, and there was nothing more important than that at this point.

I slowly sit up, not wanting to startle him. I reach over for my sketchpad that sat inside of my bag before pulling it out.

I remove the pencil from the spiral I had tucked it into before turning to a blank page.

I loved using Hero as inspiration for my art.

He was a much better source than my dark depictions of my past.

He was my present, and hopefully my future.

He was hope rather than despair.

It seemed ironic, given Hero's persona and everything he represented.

But as the saying goes, you can never judge a book by its cover.

Hero might have been one person on the outside, but he was a completely different one on the inside.

And I was lucky enough to know that person on the inside.

I tried so desperately to capture that in my piece I submitted for the show.

I wanted to capture the essence of him.

I wanted to show what was on the inside, and judging by Professor Blake's reaction, I did just that.

I sketch him as he slept, making note of every possible detail before his eyes flutter open.

He squints for a moment, his green eyes adjusting to the sunlight before looking at me.

I smile softly as he continues to look at me, his eyes telling me everything they needed to without words.

I felt a warm sensation through my body, relishing the way he looked at me.

No one has ever looked at me this way before.

Not even Luke.

I couldn't really describe this look, but once you've seen it, you'd know what it meant.

"Good morning." He says, sleep laced through his voice.

"Afternoon." I correct him with a smirk.