The Boy Without A Name

Chapter Ten

Emmett couldn't exactly recall the time when had paved his way to the same old bench where he'd often find him singing, but eventually, he realised that he had made himself quite comfortable, and habitual of the place. Nevertheless, he was somewhat feeling relaxed, a contrast from his rampant, extracurricular activities of panicking over littlest things and overthinking amidst whatnot, he finalised, something had much changed in him and he wasn't certain of it.

"I wish...I wish I could've said something to you, I wish to have said so much more than words could express yet I find myself lost and probably, confused at the possibility of what could never be."

"That is quite a wish that you have made, there."

Emmett was stunned to silence by that saccharine coated, mellow moulded voice, a unique combination that only his expressionate tone had, but it quickly dawned upon him that he was liable for some shortcomings that, he was the cause for, in their friendship or whatever it was that they shared. With a forced smile, he nodded at him before shuffling closer to the far end of the bench, so to accommodate the newcomer.

"I am so..so sorry, I really didn't mean to do it, I just..I have no words to profess how guilty I feel for what I have done. Moreover, I'd understand if you wouldn't like to indulge in my company, yet I urge you to at least, consider my apology."

"I have always wondered about the intimacy of human touch, you know? Intricate fingers relishing in the seamless outline, hesitating yet loving the feeling because somehow, they're beguiled by the essence of what is propelling them to commit an ordeal that, otherwise, is soothing and fulfilling but there's a fear apparent enough in the way they don't want to ruin that simply magical moment as they'd rather not like to reflect upon their dilemma for they, like sheathing a delicate petiole of a flower from ultimately desiccating, touch and feel something that is inwardly exquisite."

Emmett looked at him for the first time and he couldn't help but be in awe of the boy who, so beautifully, described to him a human emotion, a tender feeling.

For a while, they appreciated the resonance of the pestering silence, lulling them to a comfortable dalliance. Emmett was particularly on edge, overthinking and rationalising every little thing that had happened so far as whereas the stranger, was too engrossed with his own thoughts to notice the apparent apprehension on Emmett's behalf. For a while, they debated and deduced the side effects of their consequent actions, braving to accept the reality for what it was worth. Emmett would stealthily, or so he had presumed, look out from the corner of his eyes to only spy on his fellow companion, opening and closing his mouth repetitively to speak anything, absolutely anything to eradicate this sullen silence but at the last moment, he would shake his head at his assumed stupidity and look away, dejectedly. Whilst the stranger would notice his obvious miscalculations and unbeknownst to Emmett, he would smile to himself often, thinking about nothing specifically not Emmett or his not so usual behaviour. For a while, they were agonised with the pretentiously overbearing silence and that was when he had decided to break it. The stranger, slowly, took his hand in his rather swiftly, snapping Emmett's resilient focus by doing something that he had least expected.

"I know that we haven't discussed it yet and it is something of rather a discomfort than disillusionment to be spoken before the preassumptions settle in and ruin something as tender as this bond that I do feel we have come to share. I am not someone who is desirable, contrary to what you might think of me, I don't think that I'd be able to give you the affection that you are solely focused upon but let this not belittle those precious feelings that did compel you to share that passionate kiss with me because as much as I don't want to drag you into my world, I find it rather irresistible."

Eyes do mirror the psyche, Emmett thought as he looked into his eyes whilst he spoke so fluently as if he was a weaver, weaving words with a needle so intricate and precise, surpassing Emmett's expectations so to speak. He was the starry night-sky of paradise, a universe with insurmountable assumptions in him that had aligned, a celestial incense left behind, he was incomprehensibly divine. Eyes do interpret the untold, where words wordlessly sink and flounder, they keep them afloat, brimming brightly as they remain alight in those graceful orbs of unrivalled life.

An explicit expression of zealous wonderment was all that he needed to know about Emmett's innervation and as the latter leaned into him to premeditate the passion that could never be profounded, so to think for memories were always the silhouette of these little, mutually encompassed moments that entreat upon the psyche an amorous wave, engulfing the heart's shore seemingly with enough, leaving them remarkably besotted.

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