Luck

tiny kisses make for the biggest of excitements . ethans hands working to grip onto caspar in whatever way possible . dull nails digging into his skin , leaving half crescent moon marks upon the tight flesh of his back . he holds onto him as if he were sand that would slip through his fingers ───── that fear of loss so settled into the bedding of his heart that he cannot bring himself to believe any of this is real . even as whispers are consumed by his itching ears , reassuring him of the true that lies within this moment . he lets himself remain blind to it all . that is the consequence of abandonment . a shiver runs up his spine when he feels caspars digit digging into the collar of his jumper , it loosens the noose wrapped so tightly there . ethan is wearing nothing underneath that dressing , and without missing a beat , lets go of the other only for the seconds it takes to remove the garment .

The small pinches of Ethan's nails in his back felt like the release on pressure points. It was soothing and soon there would be visible marks to match the unseen ones on his soul. The same person being responsible for both.  

At the touch of his hand on her cheek, she struggled not to pull away. She was so used to shutting people down. She had managed to destroy her defences, stop the war with the world, and yet it had only brought her more confusion and pain ultimately, it was her own fatal flaw that she was too proud to admit it. Finally, through a small breath, she lifted her hand to meet his on her face, her eyes darting rapidly, as if she was already planning her escape. Fingers gently coiled around his hand and she flatted it against her face, closing her eyes for a fleeting second of nothing but silence, “Nobody.” Her words were light, as if they were nt really hers at all, and her next breath came shaky. Everyone had their breaking point— This much was a truth that was universal. Elle Griffin just hadn’t recognised whether this was hers. Her eyes were wild with doubts, averting from his face as her fingers started to gently slide away from his hand, “I… I don’t know what’s wrong,” soft words, laced with confusion and despair, “I think I broke me.”

It was a little unfair. He felt like he was being toyed with, but he also felt like that feeling only came from a dark place. She seemed genuine so he had to cut the skeptics. Plus, it was Elle he was talking to as corny as that came across. Say what you want about Elle, and people certainly would if he remembered correctly, but at least she was honest. It was refreshing and safe. If she said this wasn't some twisted dare or something even worse, than it wasn't. But he wasn't sure what was scarier, that she could be messing with him or that she wasn't at all. So far he'd found any way possible to accidentally detonate every good relationship he had in his life. He couldn't let Elle get in his line of fire, he wouldn't. "Oh, shut up.", he scoffed, letting out a short low laugh as he stepped back and turned to sit back in his chair. "You're not broken. Dramatic, maybe. But, then again, what else is new." Rolling over to his bed so he sat in his chair next to the mattress, he patted on it to pull her out from cowering over by the door. "So if there was something.... wrong. And you did feel a.... certain way about me. Hypothetically speaking, of course", he began. "Why would you feel that all of a sudden? What changed?" 

She was almost taken aback by his comment about mourning, but as usual she offered the simplest most sarcastic answer, “Funny.” Her words were more dry than normal, her voice quieting at the end of the word as she finally stopped, her hands meeting to mess with the bracelet on her wrist, her blue eyes flickering towards him and then back down several times, “Further? Like what? Like…” her voice drew off in a strange unfinished way, her eyes barely moving from his face, “I love you.” She stood still, the words setting in around her for a second, her eyes slightly wider than normal as she closed her mouth. She was surprised at herself, scattered thoughts, strange connections, things were piling up on top of her and she didn’t know what she was doing any longer, other than being violently confused and jumbled up inside, “Because I totally don’t,” she almost attempted to laugh, but her eyes gave her away if the strange resignation in her voice did not.

For a split second, he could feel her entertaining what he was saying. He was affecting her in some way and this was a feeling he was always working towards whenever he was around Elle. Surprisingly, though, he didn't do it out of any selfish reasons. Elle was the type of person to speak volumes, but he was shocked to find no one was listening. Instead, he found himself happy to walk up to the plate to do what no one else bothered doing. He never, however, thought he'd be on the receiving end of the words that packed the biggest punch. The tables had turned, now she was affecting him. He inhaled as discretely as possible trying to catch his breath, then he stood, advancing towards her. With only the smallest bit of space between them then, he lifted a hand and cupped her cheek. Caspar stayed quiet for a minute, looking her over but didn't let himself get caught up in her deep blue eyes. He pulled away abruptly. "Who put you up to this?"  

Opening the door without any frets, Elle walked in, in her normal fashion she showed no interest in the possibility he was busy, looking surprisingly more uptight than usual as she paced around the room, her arms crossed, saying nothing. “Look!” she finally swung around, her face pained, as if she was about to give him the worst news in the world, as if her words were hurting her as they physically left her lips; dosing her in discomfort in every possible way. Arms frenzied movement, “I have to say something, but don’t take it the wrong way, ugh, you’re going to take it the wrong way,” she fretted, her speech falling to pieces around her. Her lips stayed firmly shut for many seconds, her eyes narrowing at him, despite the fact she was mainly concerned about her own self preservation in that moment, finally with what seemed like an annoyed groan, she spoke, “I missed you.”

Leaned over a desk, pen in hand, Caspar was left in an artistic slump that was nearly visible. That was, until, his door flung open and gave way to an Elle in an even bigger tizzy. His head shot up, looking over at her like she'd busted out of the loony bin. But as she paced and began to ramble, his contorted expression broke into a grin. One spin in his wheeled chair and he was facing her, elbows on the arm rests and hands intertwined looking as though he'd foreseen this moment and was more than pleased to find his wait was over. "Yeah and how's that treatin ya? I see you're wearing black. Mourning the death of your dignity?", even as he spoke his grin grew slyly. "If you're trying to go for the shock factor, you're almost there. But you could always take it a step further." He turned his head to the side and tapped his cheek, insinuating something he knew would make her recoil in disgust at even the idea of taking him up on his challenge. 

Was a little strange but not completely the reason why I’m leaving.

Wait do you mean you're leaving leaving?

Think I’m going to go now.

Maybe thats for the best. I'm sorry you had to see that.

In order to get the heart started again, yes.

Okay, what's up. Everything was cool but now you're trying to tell me a heart can only be started back up again if the lungs are punctured first?