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 Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 10:54 pm
Paris wasn’t too concerned about his own problems at the moment. Sure, they sucked sometimes, but they hadn’t had any truly devastating effects yet. Dropping out of school hadn’t been much of an issue for him given that he’d hated it so much to begin with. He’d merely been looking for an excuse to do so, though he didn’t want to say anything like that to his friend for fear of earning his disapproval. He supposed he should try to be more open about his personal life, and he thought he was about some things, but he knew when it came to his parents he tended to be a little more closed off.
It had taken him a few days to tell Chris about it, after his father had been hospitalized. He knew he probably should have shared it with Ladon sooner than this, but with Ladon already seeming so miserable over his own problems… Paris felt like the things going on in his life paled in comparison, even if he didn’t know about everything that had happened to Ladon. Just the look on his face, the look in his eyes…
He watched him get up and knew he was just trying to distract himself, trying to hide the fact that he was upset. Paris frowned and let him pull away, feeling rather useless. He was never sure how to properly comfort people. Some people liked to be held; other people would rather be left alone. He could never tell with Ladon. Before he would have gotten up to hug him without question, but now… he didn’t know if it would help, or if Ladon would just pull away from him again.
“Okay,” he said, suddenly standing to his feet, leaving his mug on the counter. “I was going to save this until after dinner, but it’s just gonna have to happen now.”
Paris moved determinedly toward the door, where he’d left the bags containing the gifts he’d brought with him. “I couldn’t decide how you were going to react to this,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the rustling of one of the bags, “but I figure it’ll be one of three things. One, you’ll hate me forever and refuse to ever be seen with me again. Two, you’ll laugh in my face and refuse to ever be seen with me again. Or three, you’ll burst into tears, and maybe refuse to ever be seen with me again, too.”
He took out a box and stepped closer toward the kitchen, though he kept his back toward Ladon, hiding the gift from sight, and continuing to explain as he did so. “This is just one gift. I have another one, but I saw this and decided I wanted it, so really it’s more of a gift for me, but I like to think of it as a gift for both of us.”
He struggled with the box for a moment, trying to open it without allowing it or its contents to be seen. “Wait for it…” he said. Pulling the lid open, he grabbed a handful of what appeared to be a heap of fabric in a garish red-orange color, tugging at it until it began to pull free. “Tada~!”
Paris spun around to unravel a large swatch of red-orange fleece, more than big enough for two people of their admittedly small stature. Upon first inspection, it simply looked like an overlarge blanket, but if Ladon were to look closer he would notice two sets of sleeves attached to it.
Yes. Paris had purchased—
“It’s a couple’s snuggie!” he announced. His face fell slightly a second later when he thought using the word “couple” was perhaps not the wisest choice given part of the reason Ladon seemed so miserable. “Or a double snuggie, or a two-man snuggie! The point is, it’s for two people! Which means you and me and nobody else! At first, I wanted to get it in pink, but I knew you’d kill me, so then I thought about blue, but it turns out you can only get it in this hideous Meadowview orange color which, to be completely honest, always looked much better on you than it did on me. Anyway, I know they’re kind of ridiculous, but it’s actually really warm, so you’re gonna to wear it with me whether you like it or not, because I think you could use a good snuggle.”
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 11:53 pm
The small response hurt Ladon, and he knew that he had insulted his friend by being just as short with him, but it was either that or he broke down at the counter, and Billy had hated how quickly he was to swing from one emotion to the next, and now he worried that if he reacted openly too quickly, he would scare off hsi friends - even if Paris said he'd welcoming any crying. It was just a terribly way to make a holiday memory. Invite your best friend over for Christmas Eve dinner and wind up crying about a good couple of months' worth of regret and misery. That was SURE to make him want to come back or not worry about him. He had to be stronger, and he had to keep himself in check. He didn't want to ruin the holiday season and kick himself later for being such an emotional nut job.
Paris seemed to have another solution, which was more in the spirit of the holiday. While Ladon started to pull out large serving spoons and various other things to make their dinner, he paused when the blonde went to search through one of his bags. One he hadn't seen was there or else he would have helped put up whatever it was. If this was gift time, he would have waited to go and fetch his own, but Paris had stopped him in order to be dramatic and reveal his own gift.
He was curious about Paris would get him, nervous that his wasn't good enough, and also what Paris really did decide to get him. He hoped their strained friendship wouldn't make him forget what type of person he was and what he liked. What he pulled out was - peculiar. A very orange, big blanket. It was rather....plain for the blonde, which made Ladon wonder if he picked plain on purpose as to not scare him off. Paris explained his own reasoning and also what it really was.
Eyes already freckled with tears from trying to compose himself, he looked at the ridiculous blanket - or Snuggie as Paris pointed out, and up at the blonde, just....speechless.
His shoulders hitched, his throat chocked up, and just as Paris predicted, Ladon bursted out laughing, setting his hand on the nearby counter to laugh. "Wha....What is.....What made you think....." He tried to look at the crazy thing and could only feel himself laughing more. He couldn't HELP it! It was the most insane present he had ever received, and this coming from the fact he got a ugly Christmas sweater from General Apatite. "I don't even LIKE orange, but GODS no pink!" He was finding it hard to breathe, but continued to try and explain his reaction. At least he wasn't shoving his friend out the door. "It's like a orange poncho!" He never understood Snuggies to begin with, but seeing one here. "....and you're usually so fashionable - but this!" He gestured to what his friend was holding and couldn't help continued to slouch over the counter to breath. "It's a.....a.....Uggie." He managed, continuing to laugh.
Paris broke him.
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Posted: Sat Jan 14, 2012 2:25 pm
“This is totally fashionable!” Paris argued, grinning all the while. Hearing Ladon laugh, he decided he’d picked the right moment to unveil his surprise.
“Look at how beautifully it flows from the body,” he joked, sliding his arms into one set of sleeves to show it off. It was much too long and threatened to trip him if he took so much as a step forward, but he thought that the fact that it was incredibly warm made up for any problems in the design. “And if you put it on backwards,” he continued, sliding his arms back out of the sleeves to swing the Snuggie behind him, shoving his arms into the sleeves again once it rested on his shoulders and flowed down his back, “you’re instantly a wizard! Just pull out the old wand and you’re ready to Expelliarmus the hell out of someone.”
Paris struck a few poses and let Ladon laugh at him as much as he wanted to. He liked the sound of it, even if he thought Ladon shouldn’t hold back on the crying as much as he was. Laughter was still a nice thing to hear from him. He felt like he hadn’t heard it in months. Then he realized he probably hadn’t and thought how horribly depressing that was.
Laughing lightly himself, Paris kept the Snuggie on backwards and approached his friend, making sure the orange fleece didn’t snag on anything as he went. His smile shrank a little once he stood in front of him, becoming less broad but more gentle.
“I wish you’d let me help you,” he said, not to make Ladon upset again, but just to reassure him that he was there if he ever decided he needed an ear or a shoulder. “I wish you didn’t feel like you should keep things to yourself, or do things alone. Maybe I wouldn’t understand, and maybe it’s not really any of my business, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. It’s okay to feel things, Lady, even if those things hurt. You shouldn’t feel like you have to hide them. I promise you’re not a bother. I wouldn’t try so hard if I thought you were.”
He wanted to hug him. Every last one of his instincts was telling him to just grab onto him and hold on tight, but he was still wary. He could never tell what Ladon was comfortable with anymore—what he wanted or how he would react. He’d pulled his hand away when Paris had tried to take it; why shouldn’t he pull away if Paris tried something more?
In the end, he did hold out his arms to him, partly to brandish the Snuggie sleeves, and partly to see if he’d step forward for a hug on his own. “And this thing might be ugly,” he said, “but I bought it with love, so you can’t get rid of it. I’m going to leave it here, and you’ll have to keep it forever and ever. You can hide it from other people if you want, ‘cause I don’t want them thinking they can use it anyway, ‘cause it’s totally ours, but I’m going to make sure it’s still here every time I come over, and if I can’t find it I’m just going to buy you another one,” he warned.
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Posted: Sat Jan 14, 2012 3:52 pm
It was actually hurting to breath, and while by accident or with purpose, his mind was distracted with the hilarity that was the many, ugly, uses of the Buddy Snuggie. To even think that Paris had gone out, looked for other colors, and picked that item for him, was beyond crazy, and yet here he was. Out of all the outfits Ladon had seen him in, this was the most over the top, and he had to take deep breathes to regain his composure enough to speak. After a moment longer, he risked looking up at him.
Laughing had taken him off his guard, and he thought he had escaped the issue at hand, and Paris returned, continuing with his heart-felt plea that Ladon just break. It had been sheer willpower that kept him together till now, but he had to wonder if he was just hiding it so poorly that Paris kept insisting. He also hated Paris for his stubbornness and unwillingness to just let things go. Instead, his brow creased as his laughing subsided. "That obvious?" He whispered.
The arms were still being held out, and looking that goofy, it was hard to see Paris as a threat. Slowly, he took the few steps over and set his brow against his friend's shoulder. His hands went up and dug into the fleece fabric, and eyes closing, everything just rushed up in a wave. his throat going tight as his eyes grew hot with tears.
His friend wanted over-emotional Ladon. Well, Merry Christmas.
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Posted: Sat Jan 14, 2012 5:28 pm
Hearing Ladon’s laughter had been cheering, to the point where Paris thought he might have done something right for once. But finally getting him to come closer on his own, despite the fact that it meant he was breaking down, made Paris feel an odd sense of relief. He didn’t know what Ladon was thinking, or what he was feeling, or everything that had happened to him, and he was sure he’d probably never know it all, but even this, even some small little piece of it, was enough to make him think that maybe he could help, in some way. He didn’t know how much, but he figured making even a tiny difference was better than none at all.
He wrapped his arms around Ladon loosely, really just wanting to squeeze him tight, but he didn’t want to hold him there against his will and make things worse if it turned out Ladon wanted to pull away again. In the process, he pulled the other half of the Snuggie around his friend, just enough to keep him warm and, hopefully, make him feel safe.
“I don’t know what happened with Billy,” he said, his voice low and as comforting as he could make it. “He told me a little bit, but I’m not going to pretend like I know everything. And I don’t know what happened to put you in the hospital. You never said. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I wish you would, but I’ll understand if you don’t. It’s okay. I still want to help you either way. I don’t like seeing you look so miserable.”
After a moment, Paris lightly rested his cheek against Ladon’s head and ran a comforting hand down his back. “It feels almost like you’ve given up. Maybe you have your reasons for it. I mean, things can’t have been easy for you after you left your mom and moved here. And then after everything else… I wouldn’t blame you. I know what it’s like to just want to hide away from everything, or to just… keep running and never stop. I’ve done it and I’ve made myself sick and I’ve cut myself off and I thought it would be better that way, because then I wouldn’t be hurt.”
He didn’t know if anything he was saying would help at all. It probably wouldn’t. With Ladon so upset, he wouldn’t be surprised if he barely heard a word of it. Yet he kept talking anyway. He felt like he had to.
“But that’s not really any way to live,” he said, and slowly began to sway them from side to side, doing whatever he could think of to offer comfort. “I don’t want you to give up. I don’t want you to settle, because you’re never going to be happy if you do. Sometimes you might think it’s better that way ‘cause it seems easiest, but I don’t think things are supposed to be easy. I think it’s supposed to be hard, because then once you’ve moved past it, everything after it is worth so much more.”
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Posted: Sat Jan 14, 2012 5:49 pm
He hadn't expected that Paris was this motherly, or maybe it was because he really did miss his mother so badly that even Paris could be a worthwhile substitute in dire times. It helped he dressed like a girl, which made him feel that he wasn't being too unmanly by dropping his guard. Inside his apartment, he could do at least that much, and if not before Paris, then there would be no one else. He NEEDED this, and he was taking Paris' offer to unload months' worth of frustrations and misery in one garbled, sobbing go. If Paris retained any of it, then he deserved a prize then and there.
While Paris was leaving the hug open for Ladon to pull back if need be, Ladon was clinging to the fabric that now encircled him, moving his arms more around his friend and squeezing his Snuggie-covered chest more tightly against his face as his shuttering sobs broke to gasp for air. Words came to him. Settling down. Giving up. His breakup with Billy. The 'hospital' visit that never was. A world of horrible things he hadn't been able to tell anyone, and while he couldn't tell Paris everything or in full detail, he wanted to shake off the burden of silence as much as would be allowed in one sitting - or standing in this case.
"I threw him out......he said he didn't loved me at first......that I was desperate....naive......knew nothing.....was just for fun.....but then said he loved me later........but I threw him out. .....I was being mean to him...........people th-ink I'm crazy.........after....after it..........after I was hurt....nightmares..........being weird.....I kept going off and on ....... didn't know what to da-d-do..........but Billy was there ........thought he was the one.........something serious........... you were right.............lied to my face......I'm still all messed up.......hated being this.......went out and ..............I'm so stupid..." After that, it was nothing more than sobbing, his hands gripped around his friend, and despite hsi small frame, his tight grip was strong.
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Posted: Sat Jan 14, 2012 6:32 pm
Paris listened to what he could. It was difficult when he already didn’t understand, trying to make sense of the garbled statements. Parts of it he could get. Between what Billy had told him and what Ladon was saying now, he could sort of imagine what the end had been like, even if he was still missing some of the details. He frowned as he thought about it and suddenly wished he’d given Billy a good punch in the face the last time he saw him, but there wasn’t any use worrying about it now. It wouldn’t help Ladon, in any case.
“Okay… It’s okay…” he tried, rubbing at Ladon’s back some more. “I’m sure you weren’t being mean to him. He was an a*****e, Ladon. You have to know that. Even if he loved you later, the fact that he was messing with you to begin with… you had every right to throw him out on his a**, and he doesn’t have any place to complain about it. He brought it onto himself. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Except for falling for it in the first place, but Paris wasn’t going to say that. He supposed it was an easy thing to do, when someone was charming and seemed genuinely interested. He couldn’t be so critical of it anymore, after the stunt he’d pulled on Chris. He knew it hadn't been any better, even if they’d made up later.
“You’re not crazy,” he continued. He held him a little tighter and kept his cheek against his hair. “Nightmares are normal after bad things happen, and depending on how bad it was, you can’t expect to be the same after it. If you’re messed up it’s only because you’ve been here by yourself all this time without anyone to help you. It’s like you’re rotting away in here, Ladon. Even if pulling away and hiding and closing yourself off seems like the best and safest thing to do, you’re not going to get any better until you let yourself rely on someone. This obviously isn’t something you can do on your own. And that’s okay, too. You shouldn’t have to. No one should expect you to do it on your own, and you shouldn’t expect it from yourself either.”
Paris still wasn’t sure how much he was helping, or even how much Ladon was taking in, or even if he’d take any of it to heart if he was hearing any of it, but he wanted him to know that he was listening. He wanted him to know that despite some of the stuff he’d said to him before—calling him naïve, scoffing at his relationship with Billy, assuming it wouldn’t last—he still wanted to be there for him, and didn’t mind helping him pick up the pieces.
“You’re not stupid. I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you needed things that Billy either couldn’t or wasn’t ready to give you. And it’s okay to need things. It’s okay to want things. It’s okay to feel things. It doesn’t make you stupid, Ladon. It makes you human. If you didn’t feel anything after all this, then I’d think there was something wrong with you, but you obviously feel a lot, and that’s a good thing.”
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Posted: Sat Jan 14, 2012 8:01 pm
((*Permission from Sunshine to move Paris*))
It didn't seem that Ladon would calm down, and soon he felt Paris move, and with his grip still firm, transported the short distance to the futon couch where they both sat. There, Ladon resumed his crying, though much less a whail now than a constant sobbing. However, it was comfortable. The futon was plus if not a little flat, and Paris continued to rub his back, and speak to him, trying to calm him down while assuring him that he wasn't crazy or stupid. ".....I am crazy......I can't keep it together........" He was about to say he tried to hurt Chris, but given how Paris went on about his boyfriend, he felt Paris would leave him then and there, and being held now and comforted, he felt he wouldn't be able to handle the comfort he was now being given to be suddenly taken away.
And soon Ladon was quiet, his body stopped shaking, and he simply rested there as he tried to regain his breathing and see if he wasn't going to just start back up again.
"I still miss him...." He whispered. "I hate him....and I miss him." He was stupid. He hated seeing Billy, and yet he found himself yearning for his return and to have everything go back to where it had left off. When he had company, where Billy said nice things to him, and where he still felt loved. The lies had been lies, but they had made him feel good. Sometimes, he wished he hadn't know the truth.
His grip his loosened, and soon, he was holding part of the snuggie as he rested there. "......it is warm." He admitted, looking at the orange fabric as he wiped his eyes on it. "I'm sorry.....this was supposed to be a happy day." Who cried on Christmas Eve?!
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Posted: Sat Jan 14, 2012 10:15 pm
Paris wasn’t sure how to feel as he continued to hold Ladon, cuddling him close and rubbing at his back. Part of him felt sad seeing that his friend was so obviously distressed, and probably had been for quite a while; part of him was angry and wanted to hunt Billy down and punch him in the face, or worse; and part of him was happy that Ladon was letting everything out and not holding back anymore. He imagined that hurt the most, keeping everything held so tightly inside, bottling it up until it finally just ripped free.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Paris told him when he seemed to be calming down. He kept smiling at him. He didn’t know what else to do, but he thought keeping a smile on his face might help to prove that he didn’t really mind. “It is a happy day, I think. I’m happy. And I think, now that you’ve gotten a little bit of this out of you, maybe you can be happy, too. It’s a start, either way.”
He felt a little bad for pushing so hard that Ladon finally cracked, but at the same time he thought it would be good for him—one small step closer to getting better, at the very least.
“Besides, I haven’t had very many happy Christmas Eves since my mom left. I don’t usually do anything, so this is great,” he said. He lifted a hand to brush at some of Ladon’s hair and fix a few strands that had come out of place. “I’m happy being here. I was always happy whenever I was here. I never felt like I had to worry about anything. Not anything more than just you and me, at least. You’re the first real friend I ever had. I felt terrible before, hiding away and avoiding everything for so long, so being here now…” He trailed off for a moment, and then smiled even brighter as he finished, “It makes me very happy.”
He only wished Ladon felt the same, that he wasn’t so weighed down by what had happened to him. Maybe next year things would be better, and they could celebrate more appropriately, but for now he was content. He couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing.
“Is dinner ready?” he wondered after another few moments. “We should eat. You must be starving. I’m sort of hungry, too. Afterwards, we can break in the Snuggie a bit more,” he suggested, grinning again. It might be an odd gift, but he was pretty sure he was going to enjoy it—and unless he was mistaken, he thought Ladon might actually end up enjoying it, too.
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Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2012 6:33 pm
"That's pretty sad." He told Paris, thinking of the holidays he didn't exactly have as special. Wiping off his eyes, he turned when he remembered dinner. "Oh yeah. It's done. I...got distracted." Luckily he just turned off the heat and that meant everything would still be hot. Rising up and unfolding himself from the Snuggie's embrace, he went to the kitchen, sniffling the remainder of his episode before pulling out plates and serving spoons, and then using a over mitt to pull out the small chicken. He set these all on pads on the kitchen counter and placed the plates. "Not exactly a dinning room table but..." He shrugged. There would have been no room for such a long table anyways. Everything was set, and the meal was served. It was probably the first time in a long time he had a ravenous appetite, and he chalked it up to the fact he had finished crying. He usually felt oddly hungry afterwards, and it somehow made up for his slipping masculinity to be able to not eat like a girl.
After dinner was done, the leftovers set aside for later, Ladon brought a tray of cookies over and set them on the coffee table where the Snuggie still waited for them. It was snowing in even thicker sheets now, and with no curtains on any windows now, Ladon looked up and could see the pure white snow falling slowly. It felt - quiet.
"I have something for you, too." He said, and gestured for Paris to stay put while he got it. Walking into his bedroom, he went under his bed and pulled out a wrapped present, the paper of happy snowmen playing with reindeer, before walking out and handing it over. Sitting on the couch, he waited. "It's not a Snuggie." he pointed out.
It was actually a warm sweater, the color a cream white, from one of the stores they visited. He also got matching leg warmers, only because he felt that was something dancers might like. He wasn't up on dancer fashion in the end. He would have picked pink, but he wasn't about to encourage Paris not being a boy, but the white allowed him to look like a boy or a girl if he so wanted. It was rather neutral, though slightly effeminate.
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Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2012 8:25 pm
“As sensible as always, making sure I stay warm,” Paris observed. He pulled out the sweater and immediately tried it on, followed by the matching leg-warmers, which he dragged on over his leggings. “I need to invest in more of these. I always hate wearing real pants so I usually just stick with tights and leggings even when I'm not dancing, but those aren’t always enough, and I’ve worn all my other leg-warmers so much they’re starting to wear thin.”
He leaned over to bestow upon Ladon another hug. “Thank you. Your presents are always so thoughtful. And you got a neutral color, too, so these will go with everything!”
‘Including pink’ went unspoken.
“I have something else for you, too, like I said before,” he revealed, pulling away to stand from the couch and return to the bag he’d extracted the Snuggie from a short while ago. “I’m not too great when it comes to thinking of presents for people. I really think that requires a certain talent which I clearly don’t have, although I thought the Snuggie was genius.”
He rustled through the bag again and pulled out the gift he’d put together to make up for the insanity that was the Snuggie. “I didn’t have any wrapping paper, but I figured it’s the thought that counts anyway,” he said. He sat back down on the couch and held out his offering.
In his hands was a five-by-seven picture frame, made of a dark wood. He’d been tempted to get all sorts of garish things, metal or plastic frames with colorful words—“BFFs 4evar” or “My Heart Belongs to Paris”—but he thought Ladon would appreciate something less teeny-bopper and more classy and sophisticated. Of course, the frame wasn’t empty. Inside he’d placed a snapshot of the two of them, snapped on some day many months ago, before their long estrangement. It wasn’t the best, as Paris had clearly been holding the camera that had taken the shot, but they seemed relatively at ease with one another and neither of them looked especially unattractive in it.
“I found this when I was looking through my camera a while ago,” he explained. “I think I must have taken it when we were getting stuff for your apartment, or maybe another time when we were out shopping for something else. I honestly can’t remember, but I thought it looked nice. I kept a copy of it too,” he admitted, and then grinned as he joked, “This way you get to see my pretty face every day, even if I’m not around!”
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2012 8:30 pm
The picture sat on his lap when it was given, his slender hands holding the frame and looking down at the picture. It was sunny out, spring, with the light warm on their faces. They were in the middle of downtown in some courtyard, taking a break. Paris was dragging him into the picture, arm locked around him, and holding up the camera. While Paris smiled and posed, Ladon was giving a bashful smile, but seemed to perk up into something a little more easy. In the picture, in that time, they were best buddies. Their friendship stronger than it had been, and their moods good. Ladon had an apartment, a best friend to help him when he needed, and a boyfriend who cared for him. In the picture, his hair was still long - or longer than it was now, and Ladon's fingers touched the image of himself for a moment, just where the fire had burned his neck. In this picture, he didn't know what hell was. He didn't know what starving, torture, and the screams of the dying sounding like echoing through the dark hallways of his nightmares. He didn't know that lullaby.
In this picture, he was another person - and he missed it.
His fingers curled around the frame, and he held it to his chest. "Thank you. I love it." He wanted this. He wanted himself back. He wanted to be happier again. He wanted things back to where the were. He wanted to forget so much and BE that other person. He didn't have it all together in that picture, but he had something more than he had now.
But it wasn't spring, and he was in winter now, where he could barely sleep, and where his apartment was empty.
Holding the picture in one hand, he reached over to hug his friend. "Thank you."
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 1:17 pm
Paris responded to the hug by holding on tightly—something he’d wanted to do earlier but had been too afraid and concerned for his friend to worry about his own selfish impulses. Now he didn’t think it was so selfish, so long as Ladon wanted it. Somewhere inside, Paris thought he did, and that made him feel good, like things would eventually be okay again, like there was a chance to make everything right—for Ladon and for himself.
It didn’t matter how long it took to get there, just as long as they did in the end.
“You’re welcome,” he said. He brushed at Ladon’s hair again, and spoke to him softly. “Maybe sometimes it doesn’t seem like it. I know I can be selfish, and I know sometimes I’m overemotional or I say the wrong things or I do something stupid or I let myself feel angry first instead of what I’m really feeling. But you mean a lot to me.”
He pulled away slightly, though not far enough to ruin the hug if Ladon still wanted to be close—just enough to try and look him in the eye. “I don’t want you to forget that,” he said. “Sometimes I think you never really feel good about yourself. And not just now, but before, too, like you’re not good enough. And I’ve felt that way, too, so it’s not anything I can’t understand, but… I just want you to remember that I still care, even if it doesn’t seem like anyone else does. I had people I hung out with before, but you were still my first real friend, and the fact that you even bothered to spend time with me… sometimes I wonder if you even realize how good that made me feel.”
Paris could feel himself starting to get a little emotional. He felt his eyes beginning to mist over, but he took a deep breath and smiled through it, because even though he wanted to make sure Ladon knew that he meant what he was saying, he also didn’t want to give either of them any reason to cry. “So if you ever need anything, if you need help with something or you just want to talk or if you just don’t want to be alone, you can call me or text me whenever you want, even if it’s super late or way early. I won’t mind.”
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Posted: Fri Jan 27, 2012 10:06 pm
It was what he wanted to hear. All of it. Without a outlet, without an ear, without anyone, it was all he wanted to hear. That someone was there. That someone was listening. That someone understood to a degree what he was going through. That someone was willing to understand. That someone could put themselves in his shoes even if they were different in design. That they offered assistance. That they were there. Here. Now. Whenever. Had been. Would now be.
And that was Paris.
"I know - but I can be too. I don't care if you're overemotional or sappy or all that other stuff." He had such a horrible way to express himself. He wished he could articulate his thoughts and feelings better. "I'm just glad you're my friend again, and that you're not lying about wanting to be my friend." He hoped not. "I know I can't always say the truth, but I'll try not to lie and hurt you either." Not like how Billy did.
He stayed their a moment longer, and things remained quiet for some time.
...
It was getting dark, and sitting on the couch eating a Christmas cookie from the dish on the table, he knew it was getting late. The idea of watching Paris go, shutting the door, cleaning up, and going to bed, seemed like a sour note. "Do you...have to be home soon?" He said, breaking off a little arm from the sugar cookie Santa he was eating. "....I don't want you to get in trouble.." Paris had said he was changing and wasn't like how he was before. Maybe he was sticking to a normal curfew now? "....I mean, you can stay later if you want. I don't mind. It's nice to have someone here." It was really nice.
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Posted: Wed Feb 01, 2012 2:09 pm
Paris was simply happy to be somewhere where he felt completely comfortable being Paris, and worry about what he thought were simply normal teenaged problems instead of the larger issues the lurked in the dark of the city. If he had known that those larger issues were also to blame for what had become of his friend, and that the cause of some of Ladon’s hurt was hardly normal teenage problems, Paris would have reacted much differently. Instead, their companionship and camaraderie now gave him a sense of peace. He liked being accepted, being needed, and being wanted.
“Oh, I won’t get in trouble if I stay out late,” he said as they ate their cookies. He smiled to himself as he wondered if Ladon was saddened by the thought of seeing him go. Thinking that made him feel especially pleased with himself. “Dad’s never really cared what I do so long as he doesn’t have to bail me out of jail. I told him where I was going, so it’s not like he has no idea where I am.”
He hadn’t been getting himself into as much trouble as he used to, in any case. His father’s illness and turned him off from any excessive drinking, and what drinking he did do these days was typically done around the acquaintances he’d made in the ballet company, usually at bars of a higher class than the ones he used to frequent, and still never to any excess, considering he had developed more of a concern for his future and wasn’t about to show up to the studio or the theater hung over. The partying and the sleeping around and both markedly decreased—or, in the case of sleeping around, were now nonexistent—due both to his new ambitions and the many months he’d spent pining after Chris.
“I can stay the night, if you want me to,” he said. He wondered to himself if that was what Ladon had been getting at by commenting on it, and he decided to take pity on him by suggesting it himself rather than trying to wheedle the request out of him. “I can just text Dad and let him know I won’t be back until tomorrow. It won’t be a big deal, I promise. It’s been a while since I stayed here anyway. I miss it. I’ve always slept so much better when there are other people around.”
Paris disentangled himself from the Snuggy he was still draped in, leaving the couch for the short time it took to grab his purse and dig through it for his phone, sending a quick text to his father as he returned to his previous spot beside his friend.
“There,” he announced. “Text sent. I’m all yours for the entire night.”
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