~ NICO ~
We did end up watching a marathon of Disney movies. I still remember today - an entire year later - how bright Andy's hazel eyes glowed as the television flickered blue across the hollows and hills of his face, and a mountain of blankets rose up around us like a fuzzy fortress encasing us. Andy and I were like city: we were always so full of life together. We were both beautiful and ugly, hot and cold, happy and sad - we were million different things, but somehow, we were still one. Together, we were two mismatching parts that somehow made a whole. We fit.
'You're grinning awfully wide, there, Nico.' A soft, sweet chuckle filled the air besides me - I turned, that beam still plastered on my face, and gazed at Andy. His one hand was fixed on the steering wheel of his old Toyota Corolla, the other fiddling idly with my iPod plugged into my portable speakers - I'd insisted upon buying a speaker set for Andy's care because, after all, the radio never seemed to be playing My Chemical Romance, Black Veil Brides or Pierce the Veil. And I happened to own every song they'd ever made... What can I say? I was a committed fanboy.
'Well?' Andy demanded playfully. 'What's so funny? Did I mess up my eyeliner?!'
I giggled at the mental image of Andy cursing The Fates for his misfortunes as he frantically rubbed his eyelid with makeup remover. 'No,' I confessed, 'I was just think about how much I love you.'
Andy's eyes softened. They were the kind of eyes that looked a drab brownish-green until you studied them closely - only then could you decipher the shards of emerald, hues of honey-brown, flecks of gold and sprinkles of aqua that seemed to made a kaleidoscope of his irises. I reached a hand forwards and flicked an unkempt chunk of dyed-black hair from his eyes. 'Keep those beautiful eyes on the road. You don't wanna be another car crash statistic, do you?' I laughed.
'You,' Andy snorted - although he did train his eyes unfailingly on the highway - 'are a prime example of someone who's payed a little too much attention in school.'
I glanced out the window, a smile still playing on my lips. 'I love road trips,' I sighed quietly to myself. Flaxen hills rolled across the horizon, little meadows of dry gold-and-green grass dipping in between the steady mounds. Stubby wooden fences lined the roadside, cows grazing lazily on farm-land, their shining like new coins under the brilliant Australian sunshine. Little ponds dotted with reeds and lillypads were like mirrors to the deep blue sky. Cars drove steadily across the highway's freshly-laid asphalt. The occasional handmade sign flecked the roadside; bright, boxy words and exclamation marks tempting travellers with freshly-baked cookies, regional honeys and marmalades, and, as always - "The Best Coffee in NSW!". Nestled in between the rising golden hills and vast green landscapes, little clusters of buildings huddled together - towns featuring one long road, some run-down shops, and big, flat houses with backyards the size of public parks back in Sydney. And, as always, scattered besides the highway were skeletal and decaying remnants of somebody's home. I'd always thought I was like an abandoned house: I was broken and ugly, I'd been trashed by graffiti and stripped bare to the bones, the foundations of the building peeking through its rotting wooden walls... falling to the ground. Standing, but only just...
But I was no longer that abandoned house. Now, I was standing tall. Now, my rotting core had been stripped, sheltered and repaired. Now I had a paint job and a doorway, and windows of glass and reflected the dazzling sunlight as if I had my own star hanging on the window pane.
And the best part? I'd needed no Home Repair Team to rebuild my crumbling ruins. I'd done it myself.
Despite Christian's promises - despite his intentions, both heroic and villainous, and the ways his blue eyes seemed the exact colour of the sky, seemed to shine like I'd found my guardian angel - despite his whispered words: I'll fix you - despite everything and everyone...
I'd managed to fix myself.
My blissful smile faded momentarily as my thoughts drifted to Christian... to that day - to the last time I saw him...
The circles under his eyes were purple black, and I spike of panic wracked my tiny body, making me shudder violently. 'What... what...' I whispered to myself, horrified by the sight. His eyes were no longer bright and brilliant. And... maybe it was the ugly fluorescents that washed his face in a ghostly white, but... but even his hair looked lifeless. All the colour and vibrance had been sucked from his soul...
Was this my fault?
His pale skin and greying eyes were too sharply familiar - to much to look at - I forced myself to snatch my gaze away, to focus on the walls, other people, the scuffed floors and smudged windows... anything. Anything but this.
I knew those empty eyes too well. They were the eyes that had glared back at me every single morning since that day, all those months ago, when he'd left me in an empty room in Coffs Harbour with nothing but the mingling pain and pleasure that seeped through my body. Since he left and never came back.
They were the eyes that stared back after I studied to twin scars tracing my wrists.
They were the eyes of sorrow, regret, and black holes that swallowed light.
'Ch... Christian...' I murmured shakily. My gaze flooded until the jail's Visiting Area was merely a watery stain. 'What...'
Christian's eyes were brimming with pain - he stared at me desperately, his muscles tensing as if he wanted to say something, do something, but didn't know what.
He reach forward...
A gasp caught in my throat - reflexively, I flinched back, hands clenching to fists, arms wrapping around my chest... his fingers pressed against the sheet of plastic separating us. A sigh tickled my lips...
Christian mouthed something, a with his other hands, snatching up the phone besides our booth. Gingerly, I picked my own phone up, too, eyeing the device warily. My stomach was being knotted and wrung - almost painfully. My hands shook as they rose up, and I pressed the hard, plastic phone to my ear.
'Nico.'
Gasping - I bit down - hard - on my bottom lip to suppress a scream, a gasp, or a sob from clawing its way from my throat... the way he said my name... my mind travelled back to the first time we spoke. My eyes had been eyes wide with utter mortification - I'd gazed up at him, lips parted, under two black suitcases at an angel - or was it a Greek god? - smirking humorously from above...
But then I remembered the heartbreak. I remembered the overwhelming emptiness - where the darkness of my bedroom seemed like the only thing inside me, too: nothing but air without light. A soupy emptiness that engulfed everything around it, and turned feeling and emotion into nothing but a wintery draft. Betrayal like a searing knife plunged into my stomach.
I said nothing. I only stared at him.
'Nico... just listen, please...' he begged. Those blue, blue eyes were fixed on mine. 'I know you hate me. And you should... you should hate me. Then maybe I wouldn't have to hate myself so much...' Christian drew in a deep, rattling breath. 'I have a 35 year sentence. Maybe less, if I'm lucky and get a parole. I will never be allowed to contact you when I get out - if you want, you never, ever have to see me again. But... but just this once, I'm asking you to listen. I need you to listen.'
I nodded faintly. My head felt as though it was floating.
'I think I loved you the moment I met you, Nico. There was something about you... but, I saw in your eyes that you were blind to what everyone else saw in you. I wanted to fix you... not because I thought you were broken, but because I thought that if I made you better, then... then maybe I could make myself better, too. My parents hated me. The only people in my life who actually liked me - they only liked the lie I'd been living for the past six years. I thought I would be bound to that mask for the rest of my life... when I thought about my future, I only saw black. There was nothing worthwhile to live for. My entire existence was pleasing others... But you. I could be myself around... you. I attached myself to you. I thought I was on a mission to fix you, but I see now - I see that, really, I had to fix myself first.'
Christian swallowed painfully. His knuckles clenched around the phone. 'But as soon as your dad found out about us, the bubble I'd blow around you and me burst. I was terrified... terrified of being myself. I ran away. I'm a coward. But - but then I realised how much you meant to me - how alive I felt around you - how brave and beautifully yourself you were, even when you were sad. I had to have you back... and now... now, I'm a murderer... And it wasn't only Jason I killed. It was you, too.'
A tear drop, glistening under the flickering fluorescents, traced his cheek. Christian's chin quivered, his eyes rimmed crimson. A sob ripped through his throat - his words slurred manically - 'Nico... please! Please! Forgive me! I never... I never meant to be... what I've done... I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Please. Will you ever forgive me?'
His red-rimmed eyes bore into mine, the question hanging from his tear-stained lashes.
I felt myself crumbling. I felt my eyes falling into his deep, blue pools... I felt the words warming my heart, and... and...
'No,' I breathed.
Christian's blue eyes seemed to fade back to grey, his breath catching in his throat.
'No, Christian. I can't forgive you. After all, it is not my place to forgive what you have done to Jason and his family, like Mr Link, and my own family, my mother, and, and... and Andy. What you have done to all of us. And... I want to forgive, Christian. I want to give to chance after chance so that you never leave my side. But I will not do that to myself anymore.' I took a long, deep breath, fought to keep my voice steady. 'I can't have you in my life anymore, Christian. I loved you in the wrong way, too - I loved you because I thought you were my Prince Charming, I thought you were the one who would save me from the deep, black abyss that had no walls or corners or endings. I love you because you promised you would fix me... and I didn't think I could do it by myself. But now I see. I am the only one can fix me - it's up to me. Nobody is coming to sweep my off my feet. I have to save myself. Please, Christian, please understand. I have to chose to be happy.'
And with that, I hung the phone up and waked away.
'Nico? Nico?!' Concern laced Andy's voice - his car was a bubbled of silence and nerves as Andy had pulled over, prodding me in a gentle panic. 'Are you ok? What'd wrong? What happened?'
'Oh, I...' I blinked, looking around like a newborn baby. 'I'm sorry... I - my mind was somewhere else...'
Andy pouted - half playfully, and half worried. 'You scared me. I thought you were haemorrhaging or something!'
'No,' I shook my head. 'There's nothing wrong.'
'Are... are you sure?'
I nodded in affirmation, a grin inching its way back over my lips. 'Andy? How can there be anything wrong when I have you, a beautiful view of the land, our favourite bands and an adventure to go on?' I demanded. I glanced at a massive, green sign that towered over the highway - squinting to make out to white words printed across it. 'Look!! We have six hundred kilometres to Byron Bay! We're going to go swimming and drink coconut water and dress like hippies and read astrology books! We're going to drive and drive until we get to the tip of Australia - and then we're going to keep going. I want to see the world, Andy - and you have an invitation!'
Andy sighed heavily - but I knew he was only putting on a front - the relief was spelt out clearly by his loosening features, his growing grin that mirrored my own. 'I still can't believe you conned me into driving you all the way to Byron Bay! You really need to get your Learner's licence, I mean... I hate to beach! It's sandy and hot and when I swim, my eyeliner gets messed up, and not to mention I burn! Do know how much sunblock I need to -'
I stuck my tongue out, giggling cheekily. 'Don't complain too much, or I'll retract the offer.'
'Huh,' Andy chuckled dryly. 'Fine, then.' He flicked the indicator on - a flashing, green arrow that clicked cheerfully every second - and accelerating back into the highway. We both gazed out the window, smiling into the too-bring sun.
'Need sunglasses?' Andy offered.
I nodded - 'I guess that'd be helpful.' I donned the dark frames - maybe I was not longer suffocating in the cold, inky ocean that was my depression, but the harsh sunlight was still utterly and unbearably annoying when it attacked your eyes and turned your skin bright red. 'And - d'ya want me to reapply your sunscreen?' I squirted to thick, white and greasy liquid on my palm, laughing evilly.
'Ew...' Andy made a face, scrunching up his nose and puckering his lips unflatteringly. 'Gross gross grossgrossgrossgross...'
I smeared the oily glob of sludge that reeked of plastic across Andy's face, lazily dragging my fingers in circles across his cheeks. 'Gotta rub it in,' I giggled.
'If you weren't so cute, you'd never get away with this,' Andy warned.
'Good thing I'm adorable then?'
Andy tore his bright gaze from the road and - so suddenly I almost dropped the sunscreen tube - locked his lips in mine. A flutter of bubbles and butterflies erupted in the pit of my stomach - I leaned closer, sliding my lips against his tender kiss...
Suddenly, Andy pulled back - his grin was brighter than a thousands shining suns, eyes alight like the moon on crystal ocean. 'Gotta keep my eyes on the road,' he chuckled. 'Wouldn't want to become a statistic, would we?'
'Road safety is not a joking matter!' I reprimanded. 'Did you know that, every year -'
'Nico?' Andy interrupted suddenly - probably, I suspected, to avoid having to hear my road-crash statistics once again. Andy's face was suddenly serious... his black eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully over his delicate, hazel eyes.
'Yes?' I asked, slightly suspicious.
Andy seemed to relax in the seat, seemed to smile more, seemed to take his brackets off around me. Our scars gleamed in the light that filtered through the windshield - silver lines that told a story neither of us would ever repeat, but a story of we both had lived, had survive through, a story that had shaped us forever. Somedays, I wish I never had to see my scars tracing my pale wrists, never had to relive those days when my bed was the only place not crawling with coldness. But somedays, I took them as stories, each line a dedication, a vestige to what I had survived.
I was alive. Unashamedly, unapologetically, alive.
'Nico. I love you... will you marry me?' Andy whispered.I blinked - completely shocked. Was... was Andy proposing to me? Seriously? But... but... we were so young, and...
I pecked Andy's cheek - even through the taste of sunscreen lingered on my lips - and I kissed his cheekbone and his jaw, my mind alive and reeling with all the answers I could give him. I love Andy, but marriage...?
'Probably,' I whispered. 'I probably will marry you, one day. But for now... for now, let's go on our adventure. Let's live. I have everything I need right here, right now - I have a couple of hundred bucks, three spare outfits, my music, and you.'
'Me? So, you need me to drive you around, huh?' Andy joked.
I kissed him again, my lips as soft and light as a butterfly settling on a flower. 'I need you, because you're... you're my person.'
'Uh... person?' Andy arched a speculatory eyebrow. 'Is that a compliment?'
'You're my soul mate, Andy. You never gave up on me - you let me heal in my own time. You let my sew myself together when I was falling apart - and, sure, you helped my thread the needle and you made some of your own stitches, but, really, you stuck by me patiently. That is the best thing anybody could have done for me. And I will never, ever stop loving you for that.'
Andy's light eyes were riveted on the road - but, even so, I watched as those gentle eyes pooled with salty water, and I gazed at a lone tear streaking down his sunscreened cheeks, cutting through the ooze, and a wobbly, thick, full smile graced his face... Andy snatched a hand from the steering wheel, mopped away the tears flooding from the rim of his eyelids, and suddenly grasped my own hand. He laced his fingers in mine, holding them tight and firm, but still tenderly. I stroked his tensed knuckles with the pad of my thumb, smiling with wide eyes fixed on the scrawny emo kid, with acid-wash jeans ripped in a million places, a baggy, black band t-shirt that most conservatives mistook for some kind of Satanist emblem, and finger nails painted a deep plumb purple. His smeared eyeliner cut little dark paths down his cheeks all the way down to his chin.
'Thank you,' he whispered.
I kept his hand gripped in mine - never, ever willing to let go. We gazed into the horizon together, as the car flew smoothly across the glimmering grey highway and into our futures.
A/N - Yes, this took me a year to write. I'm sorry! This epilogue is both dedicated to my Best Friend, @doredreamer, who has stuck with my through thick and thin, and to @Catching_zs, who is totally awesome, and I love talking to you, and you're comments have really helped me write this.
To my readers. I had to wait a year to write this. I had to distance me from this story, because I had let Nico and Andy distance themselves, too. Thank you so much for your patience, enthusiasm and EVERYTHING. EACH AND EVERYONE ONE OF YOUR ARE AWESOME. AWESOME. AND DON'T FORGET THAT!!!!!!! YOU ALL DESERVE TO BE HAPPY. <3 <3
xoxoxox Sydneysenpai