#hyperconscious

days hereafter were spent wishing the crushing was fatal. his appetite diminished to nothing, requesting an ever-mounting volume of drugs for pain management. it numbed not just his nerves, but his mind, as well. reduced to a husk on a bed, he wasted weeks hollowed out. devoid of life or joy; his existence was pointless, and the few moments where he was conscious were ones where daydreams were impossible to halt, yet unimaginably painful. every glimpse of joseph’s face was a knife in the heart. was it the opioids granting him these graphic visions, or the immense guilt which consumed him? was it god’s righteous punishment, repentance for his sins?

time mattered not. the ticking of the clock became another ambient noise. people entered the room, spoke to him, murmured important information, held conversations. it blurred into one, and caesar could retain very little. but one thing, and one thing only piqued his interest:  the sudden mention of joseph. a concoction of medication, pain and self-loathing muddied his perception, but for the first time in weeks, caesar sat up. or at least, attempted to.

joseph’s been found alive. the burial had been an embarrassing mistake.

was it true?  how badly his heart yearned for it to be.  but joseph wasn’t here yet, so maybe this was a hallucination? trusting his senses, disoriented and dazed, was illogical. his despair begged it to be true, while the cynic nesting between bruised ribs echoed a familiar sentiment: as long as he isn’t in this room, you have no proof of his survival.

hours turned to days, days turned to weeks. 

a day’s slumber, the in-and-out of consciousness, was rarely interrupted. today it was. caesar expected little:  maybe a special meal?  was today a holiday?  he readjusted himself atop the mattress, uncomfortable in any position, awaiting some sort of surprise. what caught his attention first was a voice outside the door, low and familiar. then those footsteps, heavy on the hardwood floor, erratic in their movement—- it couldn’t possibly be, could it… ?

it should be no surprise that the moment that familiar man—- his darling, his lover, his romeo—- entered the room, that caesar almost fell from his bed in shock and excitement. thank the lord that the people around him hastily approached, aiding him in keeping stable. and amidst the chaos of this all, caesar’s dream came true:  joseph’s strong, warm embrace enveloped him, soothing his aching body, returning the life, the passion, the will to live, to him.  whatever cologne he wore wasn’t sufficient, yet caesar felt grateful to smell his natural scent. his weak, sore arms sought to return the hug (they remained steady on the bed, only stopped by the sensation of large fingers intertwining with his own, partially releasing this embrace), but more than anything, caesar couldn’t stop himself from trembling. he had zero control anymore;  tears began to stream down his face, immediately soaking joseph’s shirt. the sobs became hysterical, and a wave of nausea engulfed him.

“ i prayed you would come to me. ” joseph spoke. he’s not the religious type at all, but joseph’s heart couldn’t believe caesar was still with him- sneaking a quick squeeze of his hand to reassure him this is real and not some fabrication from mental distress. “ and you look just as beautiful as when i last saw you. ” 

what could caesar do but wail? any attempt at answering failed, requiring composure caesar simply didn’t possess right now. digging his face into joseph’s neck, he shifted his weight onto him. he was free. maybe his life could have meaning again. joseph was here. the compliment, ordinarily enough to make his heart flutter, paled in comparison to joseph’s mere presence. i love you, i love you, i love you. stay, please, stay. i’ll do anything.  words that didn’t pass his lips, for they were occupied with spilling his grief.

finally, a word pushed past.

“ s-stay. ” 

a haze of tears made examining joseph’s expression impossible. he couldn’t read him, but perhaps he didn’t need to. a frenzy of this degree rendered caesar’s throat achingly parched. fingers gripped onto joseph’s shirt, threatening to rip its fabric if he moved an inch. there was no hiding his desperation.

i’ll do anything.  i’ll become anyone.  if you want me to be your picture perfect spouse, homemaker, stay-at-home-parent, on my hands and fucking knees waiting for your command, i’ll do it. anything, anything, anything for you!  

another sentiment gone unspoken, ringing true despite its silence. fuck whatever fate previously had in mind, caesar wanted to belong to joseph. caesar wanted a future with @hyperconscious. he wished to please, tend to, and satisfy joseph; reward him for his efforts, fulfill each and every fantasy he’s ever conjured; as long as their future runs parallel.  what a pathetic mess he’d become, anchoring himself to his lover, rendering them inseparable. caesar would sacrifice all he has left for him (his personhood, his independence), without hesitation.

VERO - HYPERCONSCIOUS