((I lied. I can't stay away from these characters!))
Sera carefully watched Zeke. She always liked to think she knew him, but it was sort of like trying to figure out what a puzzle was depicting when a bunch of the major pieces were missing. Still, she knew his faces, his movements. All the things she memorized because it seemed so important, when they were younger.
She saw him hurting, and it hurt her just the tiniest bit when Zeke neglected to tell her, yet again. Each time something like this came up in a conversation, she liked to think it was the time. The time when he would finally confide in her everything. Every time, she was disappointed, and felt like that much more of a failure.
But Zeke would never know that. She would make sure of it, because the last thing Sera wanted to do was cause him more grief, when he clearly had enough in his life. "Yeah, well, irony doesn't make it any less painful," she said lightly, not calling him out on his half truth about the drawing, "You can always get Amedeus to lend you a book. It's better than stewing in your own thoughts for a night."
That's what she suspected he would do, what with his conflicted face. Although what upon, she didn't know. At the mention of herself, however, Sera looked at her own hands. These gloves were just the tiniest bit too small, a bit snug in the fingers, having been her extra pair here.
"I'm okay," she said automatically, "Didn't get hurt as bad as you or Tristan, that's for sure." Sera knew he wasn't directly referring to physically. She considered, rather childishly, leaving it at that and not telling him anything else, so he would know how frustrating it was, but it wasn't in her nature, and she relented.
"I panicked," she admitted, "It's been about ten years since these powers developed and I'm still afraid to walk two feet without gloves on. Quite the coward, right?" Sera had long reconciled her cowardice with herself. She was always just so afraid though.
[ Haha I don't even know much about his past O.O It will come to me eventually...do you ever feel like your characters are so real inside your head, that you actually find yourself asking them questions? Or am I just crazy? xD If so, disregard my insanity lol ]
Amedeus watched as Tristan struggled to sit up. He felt like biting his nails, hearing the sharp intakes of breath he took. It was obvious that he was in pain, and Amedeus's guilt was reopened once more, a wound that would never stop bleeding until Tristan got better himself.
His words were somewhat thicker, slurred by probably the medicine he was under. It made Amedeus slightly smile; he hardly ever heard Tristan so less refined, much less heard him ramble in any fashion. Like a lot of things about Tristan, it was endearing. Even if his worries were real ones, ones that made Amedeus not want Tristan to fall asleep either.
"Alright. I'll sit down." Amedeus obliged his request, pulling up a nearby rolly chair. He was so tall, he had to make sure it was up entirely, and even then, his knees were up to his sides until he casually rolled back, thoguhnot too far from Tristan. The more he heard him talk, alive and somewhat well, the more he felt the heaviness leave his chest.
"I'm fine. I was just...worried." Amedeus found himself admitting, a bashful smile crossing his tired features. He swallowed, clasping his hands together as he rested them on his elbows on his knees, gazing at Tristan with a pinched sort of look."How are you feeling?" He asked, concern showing on every line of his face.
In the back of his mind, Amedeus threw the thought of confessing his feelings towards Tristan around like a hot potato. With him so out of it maybe he wouldn't remember, though the possibility of him remembering and rejecting him because of it was just too painful. Amedeus swallowed again, biting on his lower lip.
"Pft, reading. Who does that nowadays?" Zeke lightly scoffed, interanlly struggling with just asking Sera to stay with him throughout the night. Which was just downright pathetic, but in their younger years, when Zeke just couldn't stop shaking, that's what he would do. In the middle of the night, he would sneak into her dorm, as if he were a little brother suffering from a nightmare. It didn't last long, though. Only the first few months upon his arrival, when Zeke was afraid he would scare Tristan awake, or when he really just wanted something warm to lay by. Nevertheless, those few nights when he had snuggled next to Sera were the moments that Zeke often thought solidfied his relationship with the girl. [I hope it's okay if I took this liberty...? It sounds like something she wouldn't have minded, but if you are not comfortable with it, you can disregard it ^.^]
"You're not a coward." Zeke was pulled out of his reverie by her disappointed words. It hurt Zeke to see her so...upset with herself. And upset Sera was very much like a starless night; there was no glow, and it was heartbreaking to see. Once more, out of instinct, he reached out to brush her hand, only causing him to fiercely bite down on his lip on the pain the movement caused. Zeke then met her eyes, the golden color of the sun reflecting off the water in Venice.
"Being afraid and being a coward are two different things." It was a rare occurence when Zeke spoke so gently. Usually he was alwyas teasing, or smirking. But with such a soft tone, he created a certain calm aura to him. One that many would not expect from his usual energetic self. "You just don't want to hurt anyone with your powers, Ser. And that's okay." It was Sera's kind of control and caution that Zeke should have been blessed with in the first place.
"Besides, what could you have done? Embraced those attackers, only to have your own powers backfire on yourself?" He held up his hands in example, slightly smirking at the use of backfire, which his quite literally did."Don't beat yourself up, Sera." Zeke gently advised, even if it was pretty hypocritical for him to be giving such advice. Beating himself up was one of Zeke's many talents. Or curses.
((You're not crazy, it happens to me all the time. Like, sometimes I do it to gauge my characters reaction to something. :P))
Tristan breathed in shallow breaths and settled further in his pillow. "I feel... Like I've been shot," he said with a ghost of a smile. "You worry too much. Even though you shouldn't. Worry so much, that is." The words felt frustratingly slow,mbut then again, so did the rest of the world.
Tristan turned his head towards Amedeus, and even he could see the tension coiled in Amedeus, the negativity, the concern. He frowned, ever so slightly. "The chairs," he said finally, "Were they always that small?" He frowned again, and raised a trembling hand, pushing it through his hair, just thinking that that had been a rather stupid thing to say.
"I'm sorry-" he began, pausing a moment to recapture his hazy thought, "Not really in my right mind. The aneasthetics, probably. Side effects include drowsiness, difficulties in articulation, and-" he paused, trying in vain to remember, "Something else. I can't remember. Which is odd, because I usually remember."
And because his mind was now on a single track, he forged ahead, without much regard to what he was saying. "You'd probably remember, you always have a better memory for things." Tristan sighed, and shifted on his bed, with a pinched expression as the tube shifted, "Except for worrying. You never seem to remember not to worry."
Amedeus listened to Tristan talk, which was so different in the dignified diction he usually used. Again, it made Amedeus almost smile, the way he would just keep talking, or pause in the middle of a sentence. It would be so easy to just tell him now, to release the invisible weight that rested upon his shoulders...
"I think so. Or I just got taller." Amedeus spared a grin for Tristan, which actually suited the boy much better than his usual lack of expression, or rueful smirk. He was pretty sure Tristan was the only one who could get a real smile out of him. Except for maybe Sera. Possibly Zeke. But he always felt the most happiest when Tristan made him smile.
"I don't remember a lot of things." Amedeus replied, with only the slightest blush. Tristan's compliments always made him feel funny inside. Warm, almost. He caught his pinched expression and shaking hand, which only made Amedeus bite his lower lip in anxiety even more. "Like my past." He blinked, surprised at the words that had left his mouth.
It was usually a taboo subject to bring up with Amedeus, but he was more taken aback on how easily the words had spilled out of his mouth. Usually he kept his worries within him, concerning his roots, but now, they seemed to not want to stay in his mouth.
"Sometimes I wonder if it's a good one, or a bad one, or if I have any family at all." His voice was steady, had a quiet sort of beat to it."Do you know that I remember being taught to play piano, Tristan? By I think a very nice woman, who smelled like warm sugar cookies. I can't think of her face, though. Or if she was my mom, my aunt. Or maybe she wasn't even related to me at all." Amedeus abruptly stopped himself, blinking up at Tristan with an expression mixed with both concentration and a certain sort of longing. His voice had become very soft in that little confession of sorts.
"But ah...anyways, I'll stay with you. If you don't want to go to sleep."Amedeus offered, feeling as if he had dumped a load on the bedridden Tristan. He usually never let anyone know anything about him..."All I would need to do is dissapear when Mrs.Pilsberry would come back. But," He smiled a crooked smile,"I think it might be a good idea to sleep. Getting shot must really take a lot out of a guy."
((I'm definitely with the Sera thing. Aw, it's so adorable. ^^))
Hospitals had always held a certain negative air to Tristan. He hated them as much as he could hate anything, and one of the reasons he tried avoiding the infirmary was because of its resemblance. Even dosed with medication, some part of Tristan still felt a little edgy in the sterile clean place.
Amedeus's presence, though, was a comforting familiar in the midst of the starkness. Tristan squinted slightly, as if zeroing in on his friend. "You should smile more often," he decided finally, with a vague hand motion, "People might think you look less intimidating."
Tristan's train of thought disappeared as soon as Amedeus mentioned his past. Even in his addled state, Tristan knew that Amedeus's past was not something he ever brought up willingly in a conversation. The only thing Tristan knew of it was it being lacking from Amedeus's memories.
He listened quietly and intently, as Amedeus described his half remembered memory. It felt precious, like Amedeus was giving him something special, unheard of. "I like hearing about your past," he found himself saying, "It takes away some of the mystery." Tristan took another pause for a few short breaths. "I like to think you have a good past. Good people get... good things in their life, right?"
Tristan's eyes wandered over to the ceiling, where they traced the outline of the ceiling tiles. "But sometimes past doesn't matter, right? Like... it's only the present some people should worry about. At least, you still have a family," Tristan blinked owlishly then clarified, "A family in the present, I mean. You've got Zeke, and me, and Sera, which counts for something, right?"
Tristan sighed after all of that came out. He hadn't really intended to talk to much about Amedeus, but it was like his brain to mouth filter had been temporarily removed. He twisted slightly to face Amedeus again. "Could you? Stay, I mean. If it's not too much."
Sera inwardly cursed herself for her tactless words. She didn't want Zeke worrying about her at all, not when he had his own problems. He didn't need to hear her grievances against herself. Yet, it was all bottled up inside. Sera had taken so much time and energy devoted into taking care of others, that she never let herself be the child for once.
There was a time, a time ate a while ago when Sera would freely spill her heart out to Zeke, and they would talk, and eventually he'd make her laugh, and everything was fine. But they were children then, and Sera didnt feel so dámned responsible for everything, not then.
her eyes flashed as Zeke moved his hands, and she grabbed his wrist gently. "Don't go hurting yourself there," she said lightly, but the smile faded from her face as Zeke tried to convince her she wasn't a coward.
"You're too kind with your words, Zeke," she sighed, stretching out her hands and looking at her gloves. Oh, she did everything she could to remain cheerful in life, with such a destructive handicap, and she succeeded most of the time. "But there's a very thin line between being afraid and a coward. And I just don't think I've ever been able to get past it. Do you know what the Professor said when I first arrived? That if I trained, that if I worked hard and practiced, I could touch things like a normal person. But I never did, because I was just to scared to cross the first hurdle. You can call it caution all you want, but to me, it was always a sign I was never babe enough to move forward."
Sera felt full, rather than empty. A good talk with someone who cared- she hadn't realized how much she needed that. She cracked a small smile at the end. "I think I'll stop beating myself up once you do. And then we'll both have accomplished something."
[ These scenes are seriously making my heart melt ^.^ We might have to do one of a smaller Zeke sneaking into Sera's room for the first time, where she had no room mate so they would stay awake giggling all night, making shadows with a spare flashlight Zeke "borrowed" from the janitor's closet :') ]
Once again, Amedeus was taken aback at Tristan's compliment. It made his cheeks warm slightly, how freely he seemed to be giving them out to him. Were these real, or just rubbish being spilled from Tristan's medicated head? He highly doubted the latter, because in any state, Tristan was the most honest person Amedeus had ever met.
"You do?" Amedeus asked, on Tristan's comment regarding his past. Usually no one mentioned it (except James, particularly on their first meeting), mainly because everyone knew how insecure Amedeus was with it. "I don't usually talk about it, just because I don't know about it much myself, except random little snippets. It scares me." He had never told that to anyone before, but if he were to chose who to tell, it would have been Tristan, with his unbiased views and clear eyes behind his still slightly large glasses.
"It matters. You guys matter very much to me." Amedeus reassured, the thought of Tristan viewing him as important warming him up to the bottom of his toes. Now was the time. The perfect opening to confess his feelings...Amedeus opened his mouth, before it suddenly became dry.
"Of coarse it's not too much." He found himself quickly replying, his dark eyes more of a gentle coffee brown rather than the usual obsidian black they usually got labeled for. Amedeus stared at Tristan steadily, an internal battle taking place within him. To tell or not to tell...?
"Would you...would you like to know more about my past?" Amedeus finally managed to get out, his shoulders slumping marginally at his inner defeat. He couldn't stand thinking of Tristan would view him differently...or worse, reject him because of it..."Or rather, what I remember randomly?" Amedeus corrected himself with a smile that he hoped Tristan would appreciate on him.
[ I'll reply for Zeke tomorrow :) Assuming I can get to sleep without typing a reply out xD ]
"You've got me there." Zeke admitted, smiling his signature broad grin at Sera's comeback. Sera always seemed to know, even from the get go, that he was troubled inside. It was just her natur to pick those kind of things out. Whether it was with him or Amedeus; even Tristan had his moments where his patience would thin. And who was always there to catch their slack? Sera, the girl confessing all her worries to him. It made Zeke's heart ache, the revelation of her having problems for once hitting him. He always took her neverending optimisim for granted.
Zeke sighed, bowing his head to push against her collarbone slightly. It was such a brotherly gesture, one that spoke of tiredness, the weariness in them all. He stayed there for a moment, his eyes closed, just trying to remember the smell of Sera, for times when he felt like he would most need it, before a smooth laugh escaped his lips, regaining back a hesitant mood of light-heartedness. Or at least some levity.
"I miss you, Ser." Zeke admitted, pulling away with a sad smirk. It seemed like she missed all of them, too. "I really need to visit you more often. Just so you can teach me more about that realm of pottery I am so famously talented in." He dropped a wink, before his expression straightened out. It was a more thoughtful one, one that a lot of people never really could get out of Zeke.
"I believe that you can touch things normally." His voice held nothing but that; faith. The belief that Sera could get past this hurtle. the real problem was just getting over the fear to try. His green eyes were a very intense color as he gazed at her, unwavering and steady."Really, Sera." He nodded, before glancing down at his bandaged hands. There was something itching in the back of his throat, scratching until the words came out.
"Do you ever miss your family, Sera?" Zeke knew it was probably a random change of topic, but in all his years of confiding to her, he hardly ever asked about her fmaily, just in case the conversation steered back towards him. "I mean, your real family? Back home?" He gulped at the word "home", which would suddenly be somewhere else after he graduated.
((Ah! They'd be so cute at night! And I can see them making a little tent out of the covers, and everything. There's so much heart warming sweetness going around, I don't think my feels can handle it for much longer. :))
"Of course I do," he said simply, like it was an obvious fact, "and sharing is the best way to take on burdens," he added sagely, with a sluggish nod of his head, "And maybe things would become less scary if you knew you didn't have to deal with it alone." Tristan wondered vaguely why he was being so forward, but the thought didn't linger long.
For the first time, Tristan grew silent after Amedeus spoke. It seemed very important to him that Amedeus thought he mattered, that anyone did, really. He had spent too much time as the burden, the person who needed to taken care of, to really think that he contributed much in the lives of his friends. After all, he had endangered them earlier today by being so hopelessly useless.
"I think I'm glad to have you guys as a family," he said thoughtfully, his meanderings from his head surfacing vocally, "I don't think I matter much to my biological family." They had been awfully keen of rubbing their abnormal son out of their perfect suburban existence, after all. Maybe Amedeus was better off not knowing his past, because there was a chance that like most kids with superhuman abilities, it was a rocky past, and maybe it was better for him to only know family in Zeke, Tristan, and Sera.
But Tristan was aware enough to not say that out loud. He didn't want to offend Amedeus, or distract him from talking about his past, not when he had just gotten around to telling him. "Thank you," he said quietly, one hand fidgeting at the covers of the hospital bed, "I would like that." He noticed De's added smile, and didn't say anything but vaguely smiled in return.
And maybe things would become less scary if you knew you didn't have to deal with it alone. Even all dru.gged up, Tristan was able to speak words that made Amedeus shiver. It was something he had never thought of before, being so inclusive from everyone else. He rolled a little closer to Tristan, before he slowly took out his notebook from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He was rather paranoid about where it was ever since James had gotten his greedy hands on it.
"Well, you matter to me." Amedeus reassured, offering another soft smile, if a bit crooked. That was the most Tristan would probably ever get out of him, until Amedeus would find the guts to tell him the full truth of his feelings, if at all. But for now, seeing him alive and well, Amedeus was more willing to push them aside for some other time. Like never.
"I'm sure I've told this to you before." He began, his voice taking on a steadily soft, lullaby like quality. His long fingers opened his notebook, before he stopped at the very back, where in the middle of the page, Amedeus's elegant script read "Memories". He pursed his lips thoughtfully, before taking in a sigh."But this notebook is the only thing I have of my past. It is very important to me." Amedeus nodded, before glancing up at Tristan momentarily, just to see if he was awake, listening.
"The Professor said he found me bleeding on the doorsteps of the school, with this clutched very tightly in my hand. I guess I was a bit delirious, murmuring things that didn't really make sense." Amedeus shrugged, as if recounting his temporary insanity didn't bother him. He knew Tristan didn't think he was insane, unlike some people. After all, the boy was at complete ease, listening to Amedeus who hadn't even bothered to change out his his bloody clothes. "Nevertheless, my first memory is rain. Because it was raining when I came here. Very cold, and very wet." He paused, his gaze flickering up to Tristan again.
"I...I won't tell you my bad memories, alright?" De promised, because Tristan didn't need to know those. No one needed to know any of the sometimes horrible things that came floating into his head at the middle of the night. Especailly not Tristan, who already had to deal with Zeke, though Amedeus himself couldn't think of a better, more patient room mate.
Sera propped her chin on Zeke's head, his dark hair tickling her cheek. Happy memories filtered past- Zeke could only really evoke happy memories in her. Sometimes it seemed like there were never any dark times, and others, quite the opposite. She remembered trying to tell Zeke that his gift wasn't a curse, that he could use it to light the world such in the way he did in her memories.
When Zeke pulled away with that little laugh of his, she shifted over so that she could rest her head on his shoulder instead. She groaned into his shirt. "Don't put me through that. I thought we decided you were a lost cause when it came to pottery in what- ninth grade?" But the levity in the air didnt last for very long.
Sera couldn't look up and meet his eyes, but she could feel his emerald eyes stare trying to grab her attention. "I'm glad at least someone thinks that," she said softly. Oh, how she often dreamed she could have clay under her fingers without it melting, warping, twisting. That she could run her fingers through someone's hair, or hold a pencil and draw without difficulties.
The mention of family drew her distantly morose face sharp lines. "No," she said abruptly, but hesitated, "Yes. I don't know, I think I might miss how they were when I was a kid, you know? I tried calling, after graduation. To see if they'd want me back," Sera took a long shuddering breath, "But it turns out they moved. Didn't bother telling me."
Of course, Sera had known her mother had been less than accommodating when her mutation became apparent. They had kept things cordial over the past few years, but apparently that wasn't enough. "I've got an older brother and sister who both offered me their places- but it isn't home if you know what I mean. I think Ireland, Europe, the traveling, they all stopped being my home a long time ago."
Sera tilted her head to look up at Zeke, her regularly gold eyes a dark bronze. "After you graduate, I've got a nice spot of floor in the studio if you want it. That is, unless you're particularly adverse to canned soup as a meal and irritating neighbors who keep their television on after hours," she offered softly.
Tristan listened to Amedeus's steady voice with half lidded eyes. He was reminded of this Bernstein video he had watched on the Internet, one of the young people's concerts. Bernstein had talked about geographical areas shaping music through certain accents reflected through dialect. Amedeus speaking him brought to mind Bernstein's discussion on Debussy, how the smooth and light music resulted from the equality of syllables in the French language.
I must really be out of it... if I'm comparing voices and speech patterns to Debussy.
"I remember about the notebook," he murmered quietly. But the story of how Amedeus arrived at the school was a new one. Mostly he had heard rumors and wild speculation. The truth was much scarier. Tristan nodded sagely at the description. He had experience with saying crazy things. What was difficult for him to imagine though, was De being the seemingly insane one.
"Alright," he echoed Amedeus. If his friend didn't want to tell him the uglier memories, than he wouldn't, and Tristan wasn't going to be the guy to push that. "If you wanted to tell me, I'd listen," he said suddenly, with some amount of clarity, "You and Zeke, you guys hide stuff from me sometimes, but you don't need to. I can handle whatever burdens you two have- I can't be dead weight all of the time." The words settled heavily on his chest. He had never mentioned that, but merely let those occasions pass without a word.
"Huh. Ninth grade." Zeke smirked, just a tiny bit, on the past memories of coming into the school. Of being introduced to Sera, and immediately thinking she was the most beautiful girl on the planet. He wans't far off base; Sera really was beautiful. From the lilt of he accent, to the cute little laugh she got when she decided there was nothing better to do than just that. Even now, staring into her now bronze eyes--Zeke's fingers itched to just go get his oils to capture the color--he took note of just how pretty she really was."That was a long time ago."
When the accident was still fresh, and when Zeke still occasionally snuck into Sera's room, entertaining her with the misadventures of Italy or stupid jokes of a thirteen year old. When Sera could manage to get sporadic confessions out of Zeke, with that exact gaze she was giving him now. At her offer, Zeke blinked, his hands automatically moving to clench onto himself, if not the reality being offered.
"I..."For a moment, he was taken off guard. Sera would be willing to put up with him...? He stared at her for a moment, as if he were seeing the moon for the first time, before he glanced down, suddenly very interested in his hands."i wouldn't mind that." Zeke finished in a murmur, before glancing up at her again, astonished.
You would put up with me? My reckless behavior, self-destructive behavior, all of it? Just for me? The questions weren't spoken out loud, but they didn't need to. They were written all over his dumb founded face, and perhaps it was her offer that startled Zeke into the words that came rushing after.
"I've never really thanked you, for everything you have done for me Sera. For putting up with my pranks, my moods, everything. So, thank you." He paused, his heart hammering."I want to give something back to you, you know? I always do but whenever I try," At this, Zeke took a shaking breath. He was rarely ever so emotional, though Sera was probably the best to be to."I just can't. And I have always hoped that you understand--of coarse you do, you're Sera--"He weakly smiled, apology drawn all over his face, guilt spilling over in every breath"--and I isn't that I don't trust you because I do with my life Sera, I just...I just can't." Zeke repeated the phrase again, as if he were physically, and painfully forcing them out. He hardly noticed the new sprining of pain shooting up his arms; in his outburst, he had finally caved into clenching his fists.
"So, because of all...that." For once, Zeke didn't seemed ashamed for sharing such a fervor of emotion."I want to tell you something." He swallowed, his throat dry and itchy."I...I like this girl Erin, and I don't think I can even like her. I mean, don't you ever feel as if you aren't good enough for anyone? That they deserve...better?" As quickly as his voice had crecsrendoed, it was now very soft as he slowly released his fingers out of tight fists. Zeke's hands were aching dully, if not a little more painfully.
"And just now, she seemed to know all of the details about our attackers... and I'm just confused." Zeke never realized how nice it was to let things off of your chest, since he hardly ever did it. His face was crumpled, and he sighed deeply. He knew it probably wasn't the confession Sera was looking for but hopefully it would count for something...
Amedeus watched with a certain contentedness. He was hoping he would lull Tristan to sleep, and he seemed to be succeeding, before he interjected.
"You aren't dead weight." Amedeus instantly responded to, his argument sharp and defensive. How dare Tristan should think such a thing?"Where do you think we would be if we never knew the probabilities of getting caught? Or Zeke always bugging you about homework? Don't ever think you aren't useful, Trist." He stopped, frowning in conern. Was that was Tristan really viewed at himself? A dead weight? Amedeus almost reached out and took his hand, but caught himself from even starting the motion with a remprimanding gulp.
"Besides, it's not that I don't think you can handle it." Amedeus explained quietly."I just don't want you to." He paused, before slightly smiling."Now, would you like to hear another memory of mine? It is rather trivial, and random at that."
It was moments like these when Sera felt like she got a glimpse of how truly unstable Zeke was on the inside. She could tell, by the incredulousness in his face, like he couldn't fathom how she could put up such an offer. He truly had a deep conflict running side, a streak of self-doubt, and loathing which she wished could make disappear with a wave of a hand.
Sera's heart jammed itself in her throat as she listened to Zeke's confession of sorts. She closed her eyes, and could feel Zeke's shuddering breaths. It still kind of hurt that he couldn't tell her- but she had always sort of knew, deep down, that she wasn't his girl- the one person who would ultimately be let into his greatest confidence. Oh, she had gotten close, so painfully close though.
Sera lifted her head from his shoulder, and tried to convey all of her understanding into one look. "Don't you dare feel like you need to be sorry, Zeke Braverman," she said fiercely, "You have given me so much more than you can possibly imagine. Something's are meant to be, some aren't. Out there, in the world, there's someone who you're going to tell everything to, and I've already known that that person's not me. You just need to know that you've given me gifts far greater than you think, and I cannot think of anything that you can possibly give me, because you've already done so much." Her voice cracked on the last words in her determination to get the words across.
She needed Zeke to understand that he had to stop trying to make something happen that wouldn't-- it would only beat him up even more. Sera leaned over pressed her lips to Zeke's forehead, as if that could erase his conflictions.
At the mention of Erin, her heart, which had been jammed in her throat dropped down to her toes. Years back, when she and Zeke were young and foolish teenagers, she had loved him as much as any child could love. Of course, she grew up. But there was always going to be that corner of her heart that almost wished things had turned out differently.
Sera tilted her head down and smiled a dry smile. Och, she was being silly. And as she did all things, Sera listened to him carefully. She made the connection between the name Erin and the short black girl who had been with Zeke at the field trip. Erin. Had Zeke found his girl? The way he said her name, the way he talked about her was different from how he talked about his short flings.
"Zeke," she said with a quiet intensity, "I don't know this girl, but I don't need to, because whatever you say, it doesn't change that you deserve the most amazing girl. Because I have never seen such loyalty, such selflessness in any sort of person before-- and those scars in your past do not erase that," Sera shook her head, her auburn hair swinging slightly.
"Who knows, maybe she has just as much to hide as you do. Maybe you can only be truly happy when you share your burden with someone who has something equally as heavy," Sera didnt mention the thrill of alarm that went through her as Zeke mentioned his mystery girl's knowledge on the attackers. She fervently hoped she wasn't driving him into something possibly detrimental.
A sleepy, sad, smile crossed Tristan's face. He didn't ally want to contradict Amedeus when he was so adamant. Sure, maybe his friends felt like he wasn't dead weight, but Tristan could never shake that feeling, the feeling that he was always holding people back.
"Today, during the attack- you guys, you guys could've escaped sooner, if I could've taken care of myself. We shouldn't have been in a position to be shot at in the first place," Tristan's soft and slightly depressed voice took on a sharper tone, "We're just kids, we shouldn't be getting shot at all. It's not fair, De, being born like this. Sometimes, De, sometimes I just get so tired."
By the end of that, the bite in his tone had bled out, leaving his words dead and heavy. He bit his lip and turned his head away slightly, not intending to say just that. It was pretty much acknowledged that being born a mutant was a straight path to a difficult life, but no one complained about like he just did. Truth was, though, he was getting tired. Tristan wanted a break from it all.
Tristan sighed heavily, further regretting his words, afraid that he might receive pity, something that he didn't, on any accounts want. "Don't mind me," he murmered, turning his head slightly to face Amedeus again, "Go ahead with your memories. I promise to be quiet though."
[Busy few days lately. but i promise I'll reply tomorrow. I just got finished watching th Avengers, but I am beat right now. Thank you again for your patience ^.^]
((No problem! I had just realized I never got around to posting for Tristan. ^^ I absolutely adore the Avenger's movie, by the way. It's one of my favorites, even though the team is incomplete. :))
[ Agh, I can't wait. I am sooooo tired, so I apologize for any errors.]
It was no surprise to Zeke at Sera's reaction. Of coarse she wouldn't be mad at him, of coarse she would tell him he had given her gifts,of coarse Sera would be her loving self like always. The day where Zeke would finally have to push her away for good--his dreaded graduation day--brought his stomach to an icy hot boil. He gulped, her lips soft and gentle on his forehead. She smelled sweet, faintly of rubble and of paint.
He didn't know what to say back to her. His throat was dry, and he caught a glimmer of something in that oh so golden gaze of hers that was gone as fast as it appeared. He wanted to ask What have I given you, Sera? A few laughs? A few good memories? Have I even bought you a brithday present? The questions stung Zeke's brain, guilty stingers stuck in the back of his head.
"The most amazing girl." Zeke bleakly laughed, shaking his head as he echoed her words. The worst part was that Sera actually believed he deserved Erin. Deserved good. If she knew his past...Zeke couldn't even think of losing her as a friend, let alone that. He was tempted to grip his hands tightly again, but refrained. Even when she began to name off numerous desirable traits...
"Heavy. I suppose that's what I have; a heavy heart, Sera, and I am sorry. I am so sorry if I have ever hurt you in my life." The apology was raw and whole, his eyes mirroring broken emeralds, the slight glossiness of his irises. Zeke swallowed again. Since when had he become such a pansy? He hurriedly glanced away, clearing his throat, searching for anything else to say. Naturally, the last thing he wanted to say was the first thing to slip out of his rushed lips.
"Will you stay with me tonight?"
Amedeus had never felt more strongly about Tristan before that moment. Actually, his feeling almost startled him. Perhaps it was because De was actually seeing Tristan in such a vulnerable state--at least emotionally--rather than the strong persona he usually solified constantly. It made Amedeus gulp, and he rolled closer to him slightly.
"I get tired, too." Amedeus murmured in his natually soft voice, though this time, it was filled with conviction. He stared at his hands thoughtfully, before he glanced up at Tristan to see him looking away, most likely regretting such revealing emotions. It was a given that life as a mutant was hard, and unspoken rule that connected them all, no matter how different. Amedeus frowned, troubled.
"But, at least we're not alone." He pointed out, before pausing one more."Even if we all feel alone sometimes...we don't have to live life knowing you're the only one...different." Amedeus stopped there, taking in a steadying breath.
"Your comments are valid, Tristan. It's not fair, not right, and very tiring." Even looking at Amedeus, one could easily identify the bags bruised under his dark eyes. Or hear the honesty within his voice, that he really did care and empathize on where Tristan was coming from."We all know this, but what more is there to do?" De asked, shrugging, as if he were complacent. It wasn't like he could get rid of his ability--though then again, why would he want to? Emotions, on the other hand....Amedeus certainly wouldn't mind throwing some of those out of his system...
"My memories will probably bore you." Amedeus warned, his tone lightly warning."Even if the school body thinks of them as...interesting." He smirked ruefully."My mosy trivial memoryis that of a cat. Do you like animals, Tristan?"
((Haha, I know the feeling. It's so easy to stay up long enough to write for them. :P))
Zeke's desolate voice tore through Sera. "Don't be sorry," she said quietly, looking down at her gloved hands. She could never find it in herself to blame Zeke for anything. After all, she had chosen to chase after him, she had chosen to try and fix something that wasn't necessarily hers to fix.
"A heavy heart," she echoed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, "a heavy heart, but it's a good heart nonetheless. I don't think anyone can doubt that you've ever had anything but the best of intentions, and I think that's what really counts."
It was so rare to see such a display of emotion from Zeke. He even looked as if though he might even cry, and Sera wished fervently her words would have an effect. A tearful Zeke would be like watching a small child cry. Sera smiled wanly at his request, touched that even after years, he still sought her comfort.
"If you really want me to, of course I will," she said putting a gloved hand on his shoulder. Of course, this time wouldn't be like the others. This time, Sera wasn't even supposed to be there, wasn't a part of the school anymore. But she couldn't get past the fact that if Zeke asked, she would do anything.
Tristan felt reassured by his friend's response. Maybe it was empathy he had been searching for, without really knowing it. Not that anyone could ever directly relate to him, he felt. Even amongst mutants, he felt separated at times. Maybe it was because Zeke, and Amedeus, they had these powers that completed them, made them stronger.
His own... they made going through each day a trial. When he told Amedeus he was tired, he truly meant it. It may have been pent up feelings that made him so vehement, coupled with the dull ache in his chest, in his shoulder. He wished he could be like Amedeus. Dealing with the cards life gave him with a shrug. That, to Tristan, was strength.
Tristan made a small dismissive gesture with his hand, the tube attached to his arm trailing against the sheets with a rustle. "I still want to hear them, even though I'm not the school body... They'll keep me from feeling lonely," he said earnestly. He appreciated Amedeus's deviation into lighter areas of conversation, and seriously considered his question.
"I've never had any pets. But I've always wanted- ah- wanted a hamster as a kid," he answered seriously, though the childishness of his answer struck an amused chord in him, and he smiled briefly.