#three threads

Lucretius loved Epicurus, knew the world through him; his meaning was clear: love as a way of knowing, of assuming the known. To know is to narrate. People die trying to tell what it was like there then. Others die of not trying. The form of this telling is, for example, a trellis. A growth controlled unpredictable within measure. Trellis. Tri licium. three threads. The weaver knows through the fingers the way worlds hold together. Basket makers. The shadow of a trellis is filled against itself, against measure. See the sun try again to stop the movement of the rose climbing among the woven ways.

…Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I.." Ryo started to speak, only to immediately shut his mouth. Any question, it could’ve been any possible question, and it had to be this. He took a sharp inhale of air, biting down on his lip as green eyes darted back and forth in the hallway they were standing in. "… N…. Not here." He uttered out before taking hold on the other’s wrist and tugging him along down the hallway. If he… Had to do this, and he still wasn’t sure if he could, he had to make sure there was no risk of anyone overhearing. He was paranoid, he was so damn paranoid. But he should be, they were monitoring him anyway. Making sure nothing slipped out. Hell, he’d even found a little voice chip on the side of his desk one day to record any conversations spoken. He had gotten rid of the device immediately, but the paranoia still weighed heavily on his shoulders. It wasn’t a simple thing he had gotten involved with the managers and higher-ups he’d signed on with, he was tied down and constantly observed. The only reason he put up with it all was because he had to protect certain people in his life.

Ryo pulled Sina to his room, shutting the door and locking it behind them. And then checking the locks, once, two times. And his hands were shaking. Fuck. He’d only been at this damn school for a week or so, and he was obligated to reveal his secret. He didn’t even know Sina that well yet. He remembered him mentioning something about how he promised never to reveal any of his secrets, but… He still wasn’t sure. Wasn’t sure about anything. Without saying a word, Ryo looked over nearly every damn object in his room, under things, on the side of things, behind things… Surely it probably looked weird to the other singer, but he had to be sure.

After a minute or so, Ryo blinked back to Sina, a look of worry on his face that he’d never really shown previous.