aster's guilt
"Do you like Cedar?"
Aster turns his gaze from the obscure gay comic to his new boyfriend, who is sitting on the window sill, a little away from the study table, against which Aster is leaning. Aside from the window and this table, the only other things in this room are a cupboard, a bed, and a vicinity table. It is more bland than the room of his younger brother. "Little Cedar? He is rather adorable. I do like him. Why do you ask?"
Dale looks to the ground. His silence indicates hesitation, and unwillingness to speak up his mind – Aster has figured that out about him by now. So he tries to read the boy. "Are you worried I like him more than you?" Aster doesn't forget to add a teasing tone to the question.
Dale remains silent for some more time, so Aster decides to wait. The more patience you have with Dale Lockwood, the more you can get to know about him.
Finally, he speaks up. "Cedar is better than me. If you do like him more, I can understand."
Aster feels a small sting in his heart. There he goes, being all considerate again! Oh, how low must he see himself as? How can Aster make him realize how much of a wonderful, lovable and amazing person he is?
He puts the comic beside him and sits up on the edge of the table. Then he holds out his hands towards the one sitting on the window. "Dale-dale, come here."
He stands from there and walks over to him. He stops in a reasonable distance. Aster chuckles and says, "Come closer."
And so he does, carefully hiding his hesitance under the mask of stoned facial muscles. Aster puts his hands on the Mannequin's shoulders. Their gazes lock, as gentle as the summer night breeze. Then he lets the man he now loves know, "Though little Cedar is cute, no one is as cute as Dale-dale."
Dale blinks at him.
"I swear on Sulphuric acid!"
And finally, his lips curl up ever so slightly. He looks away, his hand moving to his mouth to cover his reddening cheeks.
"Why, look at me, Dale-dale."
And he does, once again, and this time, the hint of sadness in those coffee brown marbles have been replaced by a sparkle of happiness. His eyes can always give away his emotions, even though his face can't. That is why Aster makes sure to always look at them.
"Dale," he calls the actual name to display seriousness. "It is okay to feel insecure since it is your first relationship, but you should trust me when I say that I do like you." Like, it will be, for now. Bit early for love, perhaps? Yet, that is. As the polaroid image of Ethan Johanson's smile still lingers in the back of his vision, haunting his nightmares and blessing his dreams. Oh, Ethan. How Aster wished for another second with him, in those warm arms, with that angelic voice softly whispering in his ears, 'Stay over tonight, love'.
Aster snaps out from the thoughts of his past lover. Sweet Sodium, he has done it again! No, shouldn't he focus on the boy in front of him, instead of the boy who is now underground?
Dale realizes the disconnection of their gazes, like he always does, and so he proceeds to take a few steps backwards to get away from him. Ashamed, Aster grabs his shoulders and keeps him close. "I'm sorry, Dale."
Dale nods, no longer meeting his gaze. "It's okay."
Pulling him into a hug, Aster whispers, "I need just a bit more time."
"I understand."
"Thank you." He pulls back and smiles. Then he puts his hands on Dale's cheeks, cupping them and caressing them. The taller boy is now of the same height, as Aster is sitting on the table. "Do you think I should shorten my hair?"
"Your wish."
"Hmmmm. Wanna know why I let it grow so long in the first place?"
"Why?"
"Because I was insecure about the fact that Ethan was straight before he met me. I didn't want him to stop being attracted to me, so I kept my hair loooong to look feminine. How desperate, don't you think, Dale-dale?"
He thinks about it. Then he says, "Yes."
"Pfft." Aster laughs heartily. But it really is nice how Dale never lies. All the trust issues he had with Ethan, would not stand as a possibility in this relationship. "Then I guess I'll cut it off."
"Okay."
"And sell it! To the SC Hospital. They make wigs for cancer patients, do you know?" The idea was actually given by Dawn, no surprise.
"I didn't."
"Hmmm." Aster leans his face closer to Dale, until their foreheads press against each other. Dale's cheeks heat up under Aster's palms, though the facial expression shows no particular difference. Hot breaths are exchanged, shy biting of lips, failed attempts of turning the gaze away, only to be pulled back in. And as their eyes settle on each other, only momentarily disconnected during blinks, and back again– Aster feels the same breathlessness from his innocent high school love. So close, so close. Desires burn throughout his body; impatience grows; but the breaths were withheld in an attempt to distract himself from what he deeply wants. Warmth. How he craved for some of that, in these summer days spent shivering.
He knows, Dale would give it to him if he only asks. And yet, why couldn't he ask?
He glanced at the younger boy's lips. Dale was born in June, and Aster in March. Dale doesn't look anywhere but deep into his eyes, as if he can see through them to find the shame and grief that lies underneath. Aster's heart has began its pacing. Wrapping his arms around Dale's neck, Aster gently pulls him a little more close. They stare at each other for a while longer. Aster gives the signs, but Dale is as if hypnotized with the sight of his lover's face so up close.
Finally, Aster gives up. "Aren't you gonna do anything?" He whispers.
Dale blinks, as if snapping out of a reverie. "Do what?"
"Won't you kiss me?"
"I can?"
"Yes, dummy!" Aster could not help but let out a sigh. They've been going out for only a month now after running in circles as friends for too long. Romance existed in between the lines, but none that included a lot of touching.
Dale again continues to blink.
"I swear on Sulphuric acid that you can, Dale-dale." He won't believe it otherwise, Aster fears.
"Okay," he breathes out. His hands move to Aster's waist, and the latter feels the same shiver run through his blood. In what seems to be the slowest motion ever, Dale tilts his head and leans closer. Aster closes his eyes, fearing how the kiss would be, fearing if Dale would think kissing a boy is no good after all, and fearing if when Ethan made the wish, perhaps he had not meant 'Get him close to Dale in a romantic way'.
But when the lips meet, so do two different souls, so do two different worlds, and everything but the comforting touch of that softness fades into haziness. Stars collide in the empty universe, veins thrum in electrifying intensity, as the mouths are explored further, sometimes in sync and sometimes in not. Doesn't matter– a covalent bond has been formed, the force of attraction not at all weak. However, with Ethan it was much different. Kisses were as far as they had gone in their six years, but each of those kisses were as if better than the previous in some mysterious way. Their lips would be digging into each other's hungrily, and their hands would be all over their skins, and it would be messy, but it would be the most pleasurable thing ever. Though Dale was not so bad he–
Aster abruptly pulls back. Oh no, he has done it again! Once again, he thought of Ethan while being here with Dale. What's more, he had the audacity to compare! How could he?
"Aster?" Dale calls, and the one he called immediately bursts into fresh set of tears. He covers his face with his hands to retain his manly dignity in front of the other man, but it's uncontrollable.
"I'm sorry, Dale. I'm so sorry." It doesn't feel enough.
Dale lightly grabs the pair of hands with his own, and says, "It's okay."
It shouldn't be. It shouldn't be okay, at all. Aster would rather that Dale gets mad and tell him to go move on first and then come to him, otherwise they should break up. Dale should give threats like that and push Aster more, but he isn't. And Aster knows, he won't.
Because for some unknown reason, Dale would be jealous of every single boy in this world other than Ethan.
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daniel's apology
Another exhale of the smoke, and that winter night of '91 came back in all its glory, flooding his vision in colours as vibrant as the body of Tower Louisa.
The night they ran away, tearing all boundaries together and taking a brave step towards an independent life consisting of just the two of them. That was the happiest day of Daniel Lockwood's life – the day she accepted him, the day she held his hand and accompanied him to a town miles away from home, the day they kissed for the first time. It indeed was the best day, but the scenes that took place back then have been modified to a certain extent for Daniel's peace of mind. Modified memories held much more comfort than real ones, after all. In fact, she had not really accepted him, she just wanted to let go of her previous life. And she had not really held his hand, they had just walked side by side. And they had not really kissed, she had refused.
And yet, Daniel's tender and hopeful heart believed that something will happen eventually. That it had already begun, and from there it would only go up.
It didn't go up, but continued on a straight line until that day, it went down.
That one secret. That one mistake. That one outburst. And he couldn't keep the ship afloat. It drowned.
There is one memory, though, that doesn't need any modification. Not one memory, but a collection of so. Memories of those nights they would come and stand here, on this bridge, the lake spreading in front of them, and the town's citadel standing upright over there. They would chat away about the most random things. Be it about Chester from the Astronomy department – that clueless bastard – or about going to visit Switzerland sometime in near future, which they never got to . . . each and every one of those nights spent here were magical in ways he can never explain, to even himself.
Now only regrets remain, and so does the pain. There is anger in himself, anger in the hand that was raised on her, anger in everything. He wonders how he stooped down to the level of those men who hit their wives. How despicable. How shameful. If only he could turn back the time a—
His phone buzzes, and his heart skips a beat.
Throwing the cigarette to the lake, he quickly takes it out of the back pocket of his faded denim jeans. He can't believe what he sees. Incoming Call from Alison. He hastily picks up, his heart drumming against his chest.
"Alison?" For one moment, the sinking possibility of it not being Alison, but someone else, hits him.
But then her voice comes from the other side. "Daniel."
And that was it. The dark night turns brighter somehow, filled with rays of hope. Daniel Lockwood smiles for the first time in days.
"Alison, I'm so glad you called."
He hears her exhale. "Cedar told me."
Ah, the younger son. How lucky he is to have someone so compassionate and understanding as his child. He has never thought so before, but now he realizes it. Now, he realizes, all the love he should have given to his children, but didn't. Why didn't he? 'Cause half of the year he spent in the sea, and the other half he spent trying to keep his patience with Alison and her ways of parenting. Why couldn't he ever talk back? Because he knew, one harsh word, and she would crumble into pieces, never to be put back again. Perhaps he had misunderstood the strength of this woman. She was not so weak as to break down for a man. She went through so much, and she is still in one piece. And that is exactly why he loves her.
"So . . . are you gonna forgive me?" Daniel asks.
"I don't remember you apologizing to me directly."
He blinks, suddenly realizing. "Oh, I– I am sorry, Alison. I really am. I shouldn't have kept it a secret from you. I shouldn't have . . . raised my hand at you. I am deeply sorry."
Radio silence – how agonizing. Especially after a confession. The third time he had confessed to her back in high school, was over phone, and there had been a similar silence, before she said-
"I'm sorry, too," she replies presently, just like back then. "I should have given you a chance to explain, which I didn't. And I understand why you got so mad. All these years, you tolerated me. All these years, you kept your patience. But I pushed you to your limits. I understand that."
Daniel shakes his head desperately, though he knows she can't see it. "That's not true."
"But it is. And I accept that." A small pause, and then she says, "I will . . . try to change. I really will. And then, perhaps, things will get better."
He smiles. "That's amazing, Al." Al. He hasn't called her that in ages. "It really is. And me, too. I will try to speak up my mind more, so that we can have an understanding between us. So that we can trust each other. I will try my best, too."
Another exhale is heard, this one a little shakier. What a beautiful night it is tonight. How the air around seems to be thrumming with a serene joy. And so he gathers the courage to ask the dreaded question, "So can I come home tonight?"
"No," the reply comes immediately. Daniel's heart sinks, but then she says, her serious tone giving out the sarcasm, "Not so easy to convince me, Dan."
Dan. He might as well cry in happiness. Instead, he grins. "So another night under the bridge, it is."
A soft chuckle is heard, and once again, he falls in love. And he lets her know so, losing count of the number of times it has been. "Alison, I really love you. And only you."
Another radio silence, this one stretching longer than Daniel's comfort. So he holds his breath as he looks at the sky. The ball of pale white hangs against the dark sky. So it is full moon tonight, yet another reason this night got better.
"I wish I could tell you the same," she says. "But how can I love someone else, when I can't even love myself?"
He takes a deep breath. Then he checks his watch, striking half past eleven. He asks, "Are the kids awake?"
"Huh? Oh, uh, they're in their rooms. Cedar is probably asleep, but not Dale. Why are you . . .?"
"Okay then, get dressed, and come out."
"What?"
"You heard it right. Come meet me in the bridge, and we can go to the citadel. You always wanted to go there, right?"
"Tower Louisa? Right now? It's closed."
"But the elevator isn't. Just got to slip some cash to the security guards."
"But why, all of a sudden?"
He smiles and leans against the ledge. "It's never too late to fall in love, Al. Whether it's with yourself, or me, tonight, let's be twenty again."
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hello loves! how are you all doing?
i actually love writing these side-stories chapters. but i think, as a reader myself, i won't be interested in reading about characters i don't care about, so i suppose it will be of no surprise if many of you are skipping it.
it is hard to write these, since i would have to make sure each and every character has a different voice, tone and way of thinking. i think i still fail at that, so i'll be working on it.
there will be a lot more side-stories chapters on dale and aster's relationship, so rest assured, children.
thanks a lot for reading! hope you're liking it :)
take care! ❤
— love, poma