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A m a r a n t h i n e
/a-mə-ˈran(t)-thən/
(adj.) undying, immortal, eternally beautiful.
●●●
She was beautifully out of place,
Sometimes I believe she intended to be like the moon during the day.
●●●
He noticed.
He noticed on how she distanced herself from him, on how their kisses (Which they barely had anymore because they were never alone) were too short for his liking. It's not even that he pulled back first, it was always her. No matter who initiated the kiss, she would always be the one to pull back first.
And Aaron didn't like it one bit.
He wanted her lips longer against his own, because how could he memorise her mouth when she only gave him 3 seconds to work with? Perhaps he could though, he could memorise the curves of her lips in 3 seconds, but he wanted to take it slow; to be gentle and careful.
And whenever he would be waiting for her at the entrance of the school, she'd look so queasy and anxious that it would make Aaron so confused.
Or maybe Aaron was just over thinking again, and making a big deal of nothing. And he thought that maybe it was just a phase.
But he couldn't push away the fear that sparked up in him, that maybe, she was already seeing the things he was afraid she would.
Or perhaps he was just being melodramatic again. Aaron tried to convince himself that he was.
✧✧✧
Maybe if Aaron was a different person, he would be as frightened. But he wasn't.
He was Aaron DeGarner: a lanky, 6'3, 17 year old boy with screw ups for parents and a fuck up for an elder brother - which inevitably made him a fuck up too.
Maybe if he had a different mindset, he would accept the fact fully that Rose wasn't just some girl to him. But he didn't. Because that's exactly what screw ups for parents do to you - they make you see the bad before the good.
And when that didn't exactly work out for Rose, he thought there was something wrong with her. That there was a wickedness lurking in her; swimming through her veins until it will unleash itself right in Aaron's chest. Oh how wrong he was. Instead, he fell in love with her.
And maybe if Aaron was braver, he'd tell her that. He'd tell her that he loved her more than he has ever loved anything in this world. That even if she didn't love him back, he would still love her just as much. But he wasn't. Aaron was a coward, and he was afraid. Afraid that if he told her, he'd scare her off.
Sometimes it would scare him too on how much he felt for Rose. The heart that he thought was frozen and impenetratable carried all his love for her on its shoulders, and even so, it still wasn't all. There was still so much more love than his heart could ever bear.
If he was another story, things might have been different.
If his chapters were half as interesting as his novellas, maybe things would've ended up differently.
If his epilogue was as intense as his climax, his sequel would have been different.
If his dust jacket was as sturdy as his hardcover, then Aaron would have never drowned in the cracks of his bedroom walls.
If he was stronger, he would have never collapsed into a void of oblivion.
If he was braver, James wouldn't be suffering.
If.
✧✧✧
At the time, it seemed like the most logical thing to do.
At the time, it seemed like he was being strong -No, I won't do this anymore Father- that his voice would be laced with iron steadiness, that his footsteps would echo with sturdy pride as he left the house.
At the time, he thought escaping the walls that would keep him safe would ensure his freedom.
If that was the case, why did he feel so trapped?
His skies were always cloudy, embroiled with shards of pepper, charcoal and onyx. The gaps of sunshine that still managed to peek through the holes of his ashy sky was what made him remember he was human.
Then why did he feel like he was a shadow roaming around the living?
Aaron was already missing before he left. He was just a hollow body aimlessly walking in the areas he thought he could find himself in.
But he lost it.
He lost the part of himself that he had every right to keep; got ripped away the section of himself that made him him.
The part of him that made him feel human.
✧✧✧
It was always raining.
At first Aaron thought the drizzles of torment and lies would eventually wear away; the these clouds of evil would leave at one point.
But that was before the lightning.
The lightning made his leaves of hope tremble with uneasiness; his bark of steadiness shake with anxiety. But Aaron was still believing - It will all go away, it will all go away, it will all go away- still hoping that everything would be okay.
Then came the thunder.
It first stroked its baleful currents around him; shaking the ground until Aaron's roots couldn't handle it couldn't handle it couldn't handle it.
And he fell down.
He fell and he hit the ground with a bone breaking crack. He was cut open but he was still strong -It's okay it's going to be okay going to be okay- he still had his soul anchored to his leaves; life embedded in his bark.
But that was before the storm.
Before they completely ruined him.
✧✧✧
It was all pain.
He could feel each strike of thunder electrifying his skin, burning away his hopes, tearing him apart.
He could feel the lightning blitz through his armored trunk; the caustic water and hail slithering into the gaps of him that he couldn't cover up.
The fierce winds kept him down -it was like a rope wrapping itself around him- crashing away any breath he has ever reserved; blowing away any flickers of hope in him.
He was bleeding on the ground; screaming and scratching -trying to push them away- but it was all so pathetically futile.
It was first his leaves.
H̶e̶ ̶l̶o̶s̶t̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶s̶t̶r̶e̶n̶g̶t̶h̶.̶
Then his bark.
H̶e̶ ̶l̶o̶s̶t̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶h̶u̶m̶a̶n̶i̶t̶y̶.̶
They were like vultures tearing him apart; like parasites living off him. They were peeling off every layer they could see, chewing away the parts that were the most valuable.
It was all evil and disease entering his body and it was his goodness and immunity leaving.
And after all of him was gone, after all his worthiness vanished, after he died, it never became the same.
Because how could you build something that has absolutely nothing?
✧✧✧
It was always clouds.
After Aaron kept the bits of him left into the gaps of his skin; stitched back the bleeding gashes until they were scarred blisters, it was when it struck him.
His rays of sunshine were gone.
He was all black now; all hail and icy cold. All dangerous thunderstorms and violent hurricanes.
And there was nothing he could do about it. Because he wasn't him anymore.
He wasn't the Arcadian mixture of blue and silver on a drizzle; he was the black sky with daggers of thunder. He wasn't the cool breeze that graciously flushed people's cheeks; he was the freezing typhoons that made people vigorously shiver.
He was the hail that dissolved the sand, the growls of lightning that awakened its victims, the cause of purple lips and blue fingertips. He was the reason for amputated limps and the frost settling on top of dead bodies.
He was a disaster.
And he didn't know how to stop.
✧✧✧
He was waiting for the sun too.
He was tired of causing icy typhoons every time he breathed, fed up of concocting hail and thunder when he was just innocently sneezing.
He wanted to stop his accidental casualties, his brutal killings.
He wanted to stop the clattering teeth and the purple limps; he wanted to stop the icy lips and the swollen eyes.
But how could he stop it when ruin was living in his veins; when pure chaos was at the tips of his fingers?
How could you make someone stop being vicious when everything good was taken away?
Because what Aaron was stolen from wasn't gold or diamonds. It was so much more valuable.
It was his humanity.
It was the part in him that appreciated the comely beauty in things, the part of him that glowed with such starlight that it was his light that revealed constellations. The part in him that mattered.
Now, there were unexplainable storms in his eyes and earthquakes in the click of his fingers.
Now there was just the hollow feeling of what he once was.
Now, there was nothing left.
Nothing.
✧✧✧
Aaron lost hope.
At first he didn't want to believe it -I can't lose hope it's the only thing left I can't can't can't- but slowly, it started becoming more than just half thought words.
Soon, it became more than just barely there smiles and slurred statements. It became more than just still silences and dreamless slumbers. It became more than just lonely nights and bleached mornings.
Soon, it became more than just wishing. More than just prayers whispering against his lips, concealed by his little white lies.
Because his time was running out and so was his freedom, and so was his hope. His hope for a miracle, for a sign. Just hope.
It was fading, and it was fading fast; burying the rest of him with it. It was almost like water splashing against a masterpiece; watching as all the livid colours turned into muddy shades of grey and black as they smiles turned into whimpers, as the laughs turned into choked sobs. As the alive turned into dead.
And even the world became bleak, and if Aaron allowed it, it would've probably swallowed him whole too.
His heart was just something in him that reminded him he was alive. The beats became background music in his catastrophic mind. At one point, it didn't even matter to Aaron if it stopped.
It was when he was roaming around the empty streets at 3 am; his hoodie pulled up to cover more than half of his chocolate brown hair did he realize he truly lost all his hope.
When he truly realized how empty he was, how drained he felt. It was when he opened his eyes in hope of colour and smiles and sounds, only to be given the realest reality check when instead of shooting stars, he saw hollow skies; instead of smiles, he saw pursed lips and stern eyes. Instead of feeling the warmth of sunshine encouragement, he received the biting cold of command.
He left the living for a while only to find out that everyone was already dead. Hearts might be beating and lungs might be breathing, but the light in everyone has worn out.
And at one point, so did Aaron's.
✧✧✧
Rose was different.
And Aaron has met a lot of people throughout his life; some scarring him more while the others just didn't matter.
But Rose was different.
She never tried to break down his layers of secrecy, never tried to untie his armor of sobbing confessions.
And instead of feelings her sharp fingernails clawing at his chest, he only felt the gentlest caress of her hands on his shoulders, instead of hearing the livid screams of Tell me! he only heard the softest whisper of I'm here and you'll be okay with her.
She was different.
For when he started reading the pages of her soul, it was when he realized he loved her.
For he knew that every word her soul was whispering to her, were the words he would keep hidden in his heart for eternity.
Rose was more beautiful than any book he has ever read.
Rose was a miracle no metaphor could represent; a soul that no personification could recreate.
She was more than just similes and alliterations and hyperboles; she was absolutely indefectible.
No amount of exaggerations could capture the unpredictable sparkle in her eyes, and no onomatoepia could even begin to describe the octaves and tunes of her laughter.
Rose was the kind of girl writers would create new adjectives for; beautiful synonyms for beautiful words. She was the kind of girl whom Shakespeare stayed up til dawn for, the kind that made Charles Dickens brainstorm for.
She seemed like the heart of literature, they very soul of English, overflowing with words.
Aaron knew that if Rose was a book, he'd never put her down.
And he'd never stop reading.
✧✧✧
"Are you sure you're alright?" Rose nudged his jaw with her nose. "You're still frowning."
"Was I ever smiley to begin with?"
She cracked a grin. "But still - I mean would it kill you to smile around me?"
"Not really," Aaron shrugged. "But it might kill you."
"Now you're just being a narcissist again."
He could feel the corner of his mouth quirk up. He then shrugged. "I'm the narcissist and you're the nerd, that's why we click."
She gave him a look. "Speak for yourself,"
"Alright, the awe-strikingly handsome one, and the overly psychologically informed one."
"I'm pretty sure you're smarter than me Aaron, so I believe you mean the awe-strikingly beautiful one."
"And you call me the narcissist."
She grinned. "There, you're smiling." He didn't even feel it.
He snuggled closer to her, smiling even more gently against her temple. "Shut up,"
"You're so mean,"
"I'm honest."
He kissed her temple, grinning. "You know cuddling promotes the release of oxytocin bringing two people closer together?"
"And you call me the nerd."
"I just gifted your brain cells with extra information and this is how you thank me?"
She grinned. "Thank you for telling me something I already know," She said before pecking his lips, lightly giggling. "You will drive me to therapeutic treatments Aaron, I swear."
He grinned. "That was kind of the plan,"
"Jerk,"
"Sweetheart,"
"Moron,"
"Honey,"
And she giggled.
And Aaron exploded as he always did.
"There's something wrong, I know," Rose whispered quietly. "And I'm just waiting for you to be ready to tell me what it is."
Aaron smiled sadly at her, his hand coming up to her cheek. "And I don't think you understand how much I appreciate that."
"You're not even sleeping properly," She muttered. "I can feel you moving around and tossing and turning."
He let out a sigh. "I always sleep better when I'm with you."
She kissed him for 3 seconds. "Then I'll always sleep with you."
"I was never afraid to sleep alone at night," He whispered."But what I am scared of is if I don't go to sleep alone but wake up feeling like I did."
Rose smiled sadly too. "Is that how you feel with me?"
"With you, I feel like I never want to wake up."
"What?" Aaron didn't even notice he was looking at Rose so intently. "You want to follow me down the rabbit hole?" She giggled.
He smiled. "No," Her amber eyes sent rushes of warmth to his face every time she blinked. "I will be the rabbit hole, so that I can catch you when you fall."
She laughed. "That was worse than my attempt at being romantic,"
He shrugged, but the thing about Aaron was he never says anything he doesn't mean.
✧✧✧
It took time. It did.
It took time for him to stop the hails he caused; took time for him to stop the explosions of lightning.
But he did it.
He broke free from the chains of death he was responsible for.
He subsided his storms of hail to sturdy drizzles; his vicious typhoons to subtle wind. He was now the reason for coloured cheeks and Popsicle stained lips; the cause of children giggling, sundresses and bicycle rides.
He shoved away all the evil and locked it in a closet; burying it where he -or anyone else for that matter- would ever find it.
But now, that wasn't the case.
Now the closet has been knocked open; spreading all the wickedness and illness back into the world.
Back into Aaron.
And good God he didn't want it -Please no no no no no- not when he just earned his freedom.
Not when he started feeling human again.
✧✧✧
"Is this considered a date?" Aaron randomly blurted out as he and Rose watched a short show on the television.
She glanced at him. "Well if you consider my bed head, your tea stained shirt and my wrinkled shirt date appropriate, then go for it."
"You were the one who spilled the tea-"
"It was an accident!" Rose justified. "And besides, I was more concerned about the skin under your shirt you moron."
"But I think you look beautiful," Aaron smiled, giving her a small kiss.
"Stop," She muttered. "I don't even want to think of what happened to my hair."
His fingers subconsciously went to her tangled strands. "It's beautiful," She gave him a look. "Okay, a little tangled, but it's still lovely."
"Aaron, are you by any chance British?" Rose questioned quietly, her hand coming up to caress his neck.
He tried to seem calm. "What makes you say that?"
Rose shrugged. "You have like a little accent, and it drives me absolutely insane." She smiled. "It's actually really adorable."
"Rose,"
"Okay okay, it's intriguing."
He contemplated whether he should tell her before he nodded his head. "Yeah, I'm from there."
Rose smiled so brilliantly that Aaron thought the universes would all burn with sunshine. "It suits you somehow,"
"If you even try to stereotype me-"
Rose shook her head, grinning. "I wasn't going to say anything. And besides, I don't believe in stereotypes, I think anyone can be anyone or anything they wish to be," Rose nodded her head. "But I mean you love your tea-"
"Rose,"
She just giggled and snuggled closer to Aaron; the side of her face pressed right against the left of his chest. He couldn't help but smile too, leaving a small kiss to her cheek.
She was his perfection in his hamartia; his dazzling constellations in his sky of calamitous soot. She was his beating heart in his lifeless chest; his roof in his broken apartment; his muse in his lachrymose performance. She was his euneirophrenia in his dreamless slumbers. His nepenthe of his sorrows and fears.
She was his everything.
Rose wasn't just a name to him anymore - it was the name of a miracle.
Because that's exactly what she was. A miracle.
She was sent down from the heavens above; magic encircling her palms and wisdom stained on her lips.
She fixed the things that he could even think of unscrambling.
She mended him when he was just bits of thread lying in between fully sewn clothes; stitched him back together even if all the needles were bend and blunt.
She fixed him without even trying.
And when Aaron noticed her sleepy smile, a small smile ghosting over his lips as he saw her fighting her sleep, he left a kiss to her forehead. He snuggled her closer to the blanket, a small breath leaving his lips as he watched her eyes fully veil down; her brown eyes already concealed while steady breaths left her lips.
"I love you," He whispered to her quietly, kissing her temple once more.
He didn't even care if she heard him or not, but he just needed to say it and now that he did, it felt so right right right.
Because he stopped lying to himself.
✧✧✧
He hated mornings.
He hated the frozen gushes of wind scraping against his skin; absolutely detested the bland taste of tea he has every morning.
He hated the blank sky and hated the empty air, and hated the grey pigment of sunlight and he hated it hated it hatred it-
he absolutely hated it.
✧✧✧
He learnt to love mornings.
He learnt to admire the yellow strings of sunlight, learnt to appreciate the cool breezes during his walks around his room.
He learnt to love her.
He loved waking up to her tangled strands of blonde and gold every morning, absolutely adored looking up to her brown gaze every morning, the smudges of yesterday's makeup underneath her bottom lash line. He woke up to her sleepy smiles and good morning whispers -Good morning nerd, slept well? - and he woke up alive.
He woke up to the sweet almonds on Rose's neck; woke up to her skin burning on his own.
He woke up feeling alive.
✧✧✧
"I'm taking you out today."
And that immediately caused Rose to start choking on her toast, Aaron rolling his eyes as he patted her back. "What?"
"Can you focus on breathing normally first before letting me elaborate what made you choke in the first place?"
She gave him a look but sipped some water anyway, letting out a breath. "Care to elaborate now?"
Aaron rolled his eyes. "Why? Does it sound so weird to ask my girlfriend out on a date?" It felt so good saying it, so good good good.
"Well no, but you blurted that out right during my process of chewing at 5 in the morning," Rose retorted, back to eating her toast.
He grinned at her. "Do we still come off as cliché to you?"
She smiled brightly at him. "I see your taking my words Aaron, alright two can play at this game."
"It's intellectual badass sweetheart,"
"Oh for fuck's sake."
And Aaron couldn't help the chuckle that slipped through his lips. "So is that a yes?"
"I didn't exactly say no,"
He bit his bottom lip. "Rose you're giving me anxiety."
"So I'll probably be giving you therapeutic treatments too?"
"Most probably,"
She grinned. "I'd love to go out with you."
"Great, because I honestly wouldn't know what to do if you said no."
"Probably got me some roses to change my mind,"
He pondered in thought for a moment before nodding his head. "Yeah probably."
Her fingers skimmed across his knuckles; the gesture catching off completely off guard as his eyes darted towards her hand. But she just smiled. "When is that date of yours going to be?"
Aaron took a glance at the clock on his wall. "In about 5 hours,"
And Rose just choked on air this time.
✧✧✧
"Wait - so you're telling me the date is here? Like literally here?"
She made him believe again.
She made him deepen the hope that was lightly existing in him, before she was the spark to his flame of faith.
She was like dynamite really; exploding all the cheap light bulbs with false belief and replacing them with absolutely stunning candle holders; sculpted by the most exquisite mosaic and burning the best quality wax.
She destroyed his feeling of nothingness into this light of value. She mixed her own magic in him and mended him together.
Aaron grinned. "Yeah, is that an issue?"
"Have you seen my hair?"
She saved him.
She was his muse in his void of emptiness; his scream of encouragement against the whispers of lethal syllables.
She was the comforting tune during the rattling of his thunderstorms; the thick blanket during the cold winds of his typhoons.
"I did, and I think it suits you."
"Are you calling me tangled, unorganized, and absolutely hopeless?"
"Your hair's that much of a hopeless case?"
She saved him from himself.
And he needed to show her that he was grateful.
"Not exactly hopeless," Rose muttered. "But is isn't something you'd put your hopes in." She grinned.
"I think your hair is just fine," Aaron smiled. "You're always beautiful to me."
Rose coloured. "Stop that or I swear I will go to therapy."
He smiled as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. "And besides, you don't need to worry about it."
"You want me to go on our date looking like this?"
He smiled softly at her. "Didn't I already tell you that you look beautiful?"
"But still,"
He grinned. "Do we still come off as cliché to you?"
"I will sue you for copyright,"
He absolutely loved her.
✧✧✧
He was never a finished work of art.
There were still patches of white on his platform of colour; still lines of artistry that needed to be retraced. Still finishing touches of paint and oil colours that would complete the picture.
But there was never anyone there to finish him.
They left him halfway; halfway when they didn't see the potential that they did in the beginning. They lost the inspiration they bundle up in the start -Please don't give up on me, please don't don't don't- misplaced the enthusiasm they felt.
They gave up on him.
They gave up on him and they gave up on him when they were just going to trace the very heart of the masterpiece. They have up on him when he needed them the most.
So that was what Aaron was.
A half finished painting; his tracts of white waiting to be coloured in. He was half spoken words and a half told story. He was an unfinished tale, a poem with a missing stanza. He was an incomplete tune, a meaningless galaxy-
he was an enigma.
He was what made people take second glances and concentrated gazes at. He was the cause of their pursed lips and furrowed eyebrows.
He became an uproar.
It was whispers and frustrated statements every time -What does this even mean? Dear God I think I am going to lose it- and it was new vocabulary and tones with every glance -Now what the hell is that- and new accents with expressions to match -I will become loquaciously perplexed if I keep looking.
He was unfinished but he made it look like he was.
✧✧✧
"Are you sure?"
It made a defamatory nip of his heart when he sensed the uneasiness of her voice. "Rose," He whispered quietly. "That -that was just a onetime thing -I honestly didn't mean it."
He could see her Adam's apple bobble up and down. "Really?"
He left a kiss to her lips, a small gesture that mean he was sure. "Really."
"Okay," Rose let out a breath out her nose. "But there better not be any prisoners down there waiting for me to join them."
"If there was, I wouldn't even ask your permission to come down there with me -I'd just drag you."
Rose snickered. "What a gentleman," But her copper irises became tense, almost troubled. "But Aaron, I don't mean to put any pressure on you. I mean if it's something personal to you, then you don't need to show it to me."
Aaron smiled softly. "Because it's personal I am showing it to you Rose,"
She smiled back. And he did too.
He quickly fished the key out of his pocket before unlocking the door. Aaron has been in this room ever since he practically snarled at Rose for opening it. And since he was almost done, he figured it wouldn't hurt if she saw it.
"Are you okay? You look like you're going to pass out?"
Rose gulped quietly. "I just -I have no idea why I'm scared."
He ran his fingers over her arms in a soothing manner, giving her a small smile in return. "I swear I'm not going to murder you,"
"What if the psychopath in there will?"
Aaron shrugged. "Not my problem,"
Rose grinned. And he grinned back.
He then gently pushed the door open; the old wood letting out a spine shivering Creak! as Aaron and Rose stepped in. And just as quickly, he heard a small gasp leave her lips. Even he couldn't control the smile on his face.
"Aaron..."
"Do you like it?"
"Are you kidding me?" Rose was bewildered, lips parted in surprise. "This is beautiful."
Aaron let out a breath as he took a glance. "Not that beautiful,"
It was all his books.
All the books that he took from home.
He set them free from their cages of white linens and cardboard boxes; gave them their first breath of air after years and years of their storage. Aaron made sure this room would turn out beautiful, taking absolute precision while arranging the books in his shelves -making sure to match series with series, spines with colours, and poetry with poetry.
He had about all the editions of Harry Potter that came out, and that was the first thing Rose was drawn too. He couldn't help but grin.
"Oh my God, I was dying to get this edition," Rose said quietly. "But it's sold out every time."
Aaron came right behind her, his fingers finding her own. "Then take it,"
"Aaron no, I am not going to-"
He smiled. "I have a lot more, don't worry. And besides, I didn't give you my own special birthday gift, so this will have to compensate."
"Aaron what are you talking about? You got me freaking books on my birthday." Rose replied.
"You can never have enough books," He shrugged, taking a peek at his shelves overflowing with spines and notebooks.
"But this -this is so beautiful Aaron," Rose said gently. "I mean, you even kept like little beds."
Aaron laughed lightly. "Those are in substitute for sofas that I couldn't get." H̶e̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶a̶f̶f̶o̶r̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶.
But he did manage to get two old mattresses from Luke, and he just bought some presentable bed sheets and loads of blankets and pillows (All from the dollar tree store) to make it seem pretty.
The room was mostly lit up by flaming candles; the gentle sapphron flame made Rose look absolutely stunning. She had this gentleness with her in candle light; this strength in the flames of yellow and orange.
She looked like a goddess. And Aaron had no other way to describe it.
Rose then hesitantly lowered down to one of the mattresses, making Aaron let out a light laugh as he sat down with her. His hands went to her shoulders, him still laughing. "Calm down, it's only you and I and the books in here."
Rose let out a breath. "I'm just overwhelmed I mean this is so beautiful -like have you see the amount of Charles Dickens and Victor Hugo you have? I would die for this stuff."
"Then you can have all of it," He whispered, closing his eyes as he left a kiss to her temple. "Take whatever you want,"
He could feel her smile. "You really want me to go to therapy don't you?"
"Actually rehab sounded better to me,"
"Jesus Christ,"
He grinned. She did too.
"But this can be our little room," Rose said quietly, smiling. "This can be where we read and read until 3 in the morning."
"We can even sleep in those mattresses,"
"All we need is tea."
"We can even live in this single room."
"I'm quitting school,"
"I'm quitting my job."
She smiled. "You like books a lot Aaron, and that's absolutely beautiful."
"Books have souls Rose," Aaron whispered to her. "They have as much of a soul as the characters that live in them."
And for the first time in a long time, Rose leaned down to kiss him.
And it lasted for more than 3 seconds.
✧✧✧
It never left his head.
The pictures, the words, the tears, the everything.
He always remembered James' tear stained cheeks, his mother's wobbling bottom lips, his father's quirked eyebrow as though asking Do you really dare to leave?
He remembered his own tears.
He remembered how his mother's face turned away when he opened the door, how his father swallowed down a harsh gulp.
He remembered how they let him go so easily.
How they chose not to acknowledge James' pleading sobs, or listen to his quiet, desperate whispers.
How they chose to tear 2 brothers apart.
Aaron never hated his parents.
He just stopped believing in them.
✧✧✧
Aaron had holes in most of his shirts.
They almost looked frayed really; almost shedding the inner lining, but Aaron tried not to notice. But it kept getting worse.
After laundry day, he'd find whole chunks of his shirts torn off; stuck to the sides of his knock off washing machine. That was when it hit Aaron on how poor he really was. He couldn't even buy new shirts for God's sake,
Then it was always about Rose.
She didn't deserve this. She never did. She doesn't deserve ramen for dinner or water and sugar popsicles for dessert. She doesn't deserve torn bed sheets or flat pillows. She doesn't deserve half cooked meals or broken chairs or cheap perfume.
She never does.
Rose was the kind of girl whom even the man on the moon would marry. The kind of girl who deserved more than Aaron could ever offer.
She deserved fancy restaurant dates. She deserved gifts -Dear Lord so many gifts- that every other girl would dream of. A diamond necklace. Thousands of books. Rose deserved a house -not some barren place with leftover furniture from its previous tenant. She deserved flooring that wouldn't creak every time you stepped on it; tiles that wouldn't maneuver in place. She deserved everything this world can offer, and so much more.
She didn't deserve Aaron.
Aaron who barely made enough money for 3 meals a day, let alone a repaired ceiling. Aaron who was now questioning whether he could even pay college tuitions even after his 85% scholarship. Aaron who had to please for his scholarship at Bittern Park High. Aaron who lived under a cracked roof and unstable flooring. Aaron who could never have nice things. Aaron who tried to live and saw the hard of it.
There were days where Aaron wouldn't eat at all. Days when his crappy apartment would remind him of what a fuck up he was. Days where even pity didn't seem to make any sense. Days when everything came crashing down onto Aaron; this enormous tsunami wave drifting him off. And days where all this sounded better than it actually was.
Aaron was lucky, he really was. But it's just a matter of time before Rose sees it too, and Aaron knew he would never be that lucky.
But sometimes, he wished he was.
✧✧✧
Words. A bunch of letters combined. Numeral syllables joined into one ominous sound.
They were the most powerful thing that mankind possessed.
Because they aren't just mixed letters or a sound -they were darts. Darts of pain or darts of joy. And people who had a way with words were the people Aaron feared the most.
They were like the dents in the chopping board after cutting too harshly, the oil stain on a white shirt that will never remove; the scars in one's heart that will never fade.
And it was words -the very thing that he absolutely loved- that stridently eradicated Aaron.
He always did as he was told.
Not because he was an obedient goody two shoes, but because he had no choice.
Because if Aaron gained anything from his parents, it was learning the hidden meaning words whispered.
And he was so young -Dear Lord was he so so so young- when he learnt how to crack the codes sentences concealed; when he learnt to grasp onto the tiniest thread of truth sewed in a sentence of lies.
You need to change Aaron.
You're not good enough.
How about a blazer? It looks professional.
I won't let you embarrass me.
You need to fit in.
Being you was never good enough.
They made him do as they said; made him understood what they meant; made him believe things even he didn't believe in.
And thinking he could set himself free from them was what got him in this mess now.
It all started with Dimitre.
And it all ended with Grace.
But at the end it wasn't about Dimitre or Grace -it was how they triggered the shock waves that provoked his voracious trembles of his earthquake. They were what stimulated everything.
They were his destruction.
But somehow, in some way, they were his rebirth too.
Because without them, he would've never met Rose.
✧✧✧
"Aaron..." George whispered through the phone. "James, he-"
Aaron just hung up and ran.
✧✧✧
H̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶m̶e̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶t̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶m̶e̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶t̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶m̶e̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶t̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶m̶e̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶t̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶m̶e̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶t̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶m̶e̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶t̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶m̶e̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶t̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶m̶e̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶t̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶m̶e̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶t̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶m̶e̶a̶n̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶m̶e̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶t̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶m̶e̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶t̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶.̶
Author's Note:
Hey loves! So I updates YAYAYAYAY! I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I'm sorry id you didn't, this writing style has to be inputted in these few chapters. ^^ And lol, I wrote this up in 2 days (God I need sleep) so if it isn't to your lucky, I apologise again.
Vote - I fell in love with the way you voted, slowly and then all at once.
Comment - That's the thing about euphoria, it demands to be felt.
Share - Everything is unstable to Nadia.
And this chapter is dedicated to bandgirlandfangirls for being an absolute bombshell and commenting a comment full of sweet words and praise! You mean a lot to me sweetheart, thank you for the beautiful words once more! I love you so much, and stay fab! <3 ^^ xoxo
And of course, as per usual, more dedications on the way. There are a lot of you guys now, and I am writing down a list of usernames, so don't worry. If you want a dedication, then all you really need to do is reach out to me - as simple as that. :)
AND OH MY GOD YOU GUYS WE REACHED 202+ K ARE YA'LL KIDDING ME LIKE I DON'T DESERVE THIS OMF I LITERALLY SCREAMED DJKFNSJFNDFJ! Thank you all so much for the absolutely stunning support, and it is beyond me on how people are enjoying this story. It means a lot to me if you follow Aaron and Rose's story - it blows my mind on how people like it. Thank you for making me feel like lonely, and for making me happy of the work I put out. You all don't understand how lovely is it to see people enjoy your writing - I use writing as a way to get out for the real world for a while, and the fact that you all enjoy that - that is beautiful.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
AND OH MY GOD CAN WE TALK ABOUT ADELE'S NEW SONG AND HOW IT BLEW UP THE INTERNET OH MY GOD! It was serious perfection, and I can't wait for the album. And she is flawless too, I mean that VIDEO CRACKED THE WORLD APART.
And I received a lot of comments recently asking me reading recommendations, so if you want some awesome reads, then just PM me and I'll be glad to give you a list! Just be sure to tell me whether you want a Wattpad book or an actual published bool. :D
That's all for now loves, until next time. :)
I love you beautiful, remember that. ^^
-Nadia <3 :D xoxo