touch and panic from moritz :)
[ touch ] for your muse to rest their forehead against mine’s
[ panic ] for your muse to grab mine’s arm or get behind them in a moment of danger
They were just boys, back in their hometown everything felt so heavy, the world felt like it was suffocating them most days but when it was just the two of them...it was like nothing else really mattered. They could be whatever they wanted to be, whoever they dreamed of, so big and tall and untouchable by the demons haunting the streets. Sitting in Melchior’s room, he let out a laugh as he beat his friend in another game of checkers, “I told you, it’s a lost cause, I’m always going to win.” The fifteen-year-old said, which only led to them roughhousing as it always did, although this time as Moritz’s fell on top of him, Melchior felt his breath hitch in his throat. Foreheads pressed together, the boy reached up to brush his best friend’s lengthy hair out of the way, gaze softening as something in the pit of his stomach churned. Not that the moment could be savored for long until the bedroom door swung open, his father already yelling, “You boys are being too loud-” He began before seeing the scene in front of him, although the two boys were already scurrying to their feet.
He knew what was coming, the way his father’s hand raised in frustration, and Melchior was quick to grab Moritz and pull him away and stand in front of him in defense. The boy didn’t remember much, either he blacked it out or the pain was a little too much to reflect on, but one thing was certain and that was Melchior begging his friend to leave as fast as he could, “Go!” He said before he slammed the door as he shoved Moritz out, leaving him and his father to deal with this in private.
