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 Posted: Mon Sep 04, 2017 11:50 am
one
Everything is wrong, and he knows this.
Merric sits at the desk in his room and contemplates this, because he can't think of anything else right now. He wants to be able to say that he is a level-headed, cautious person, but that would be a lie. He's clearly only level headed in some respects, in the respects that don't actually count for anything, because those are the times when he is looking through a microscope or making annotations in a scientific journal he finds interesting.
He is not level-headed in any other way, especially when it comes to people. And especially not when it comes, it seems, to people like Lysander and Roswell.
He has a week. A week to sort this all out, a week to give Lysander an answer, a week to figure out if this is what he really wants after all, because something tells Merric that there is more to this than meets than eye, that there is something underneath all of this that he just can't see.
He puts his head down on the desk and tries to stop thinking.
It doesn't work.
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Posted: Mon Sep 04, 2017 12:01 pm
two
Talking doesn't really help.
He has no one to talk to about this, not really. Merric has a feeling that Sam would tell him he's overthinking it (which is true), and he certainly doesn't want to spill anyone's secrets out to just anyone, which negates Al. Melvin is the only one who knows even a little bit of what's going on, but at the same time, Merric has no idea if he even feels comfortable enough to ask for advice in this area from a man that he knows Lysander does not get along with. Oliver is a sweet and kind young man, but Merric doubts he has any more experience with this sort of thing than he does. And there's absolutely no question of asking Roswell, who is the last person that Merric wants to speak to on the sheer basis that he is too afraid to face him right now.
Which leaves...no one. Because Merric does not know how to make friends, has never really had friends, and has so far ruined two of the fragile connections he has here on the island. He remembers seeing Barron, surrounded by people, surrounded by everything that Merric could not have, and laughing at it.
Merric has never had this opportunity to be this close to anyone, and he knows now that there is a reason for it.
Rinzler is a constant, obtrusive presence in his head that takes up space and energy. Merric tries not to listen to the Horseman's rasping voice, but it's difficult to ignore someone that is quite literally in your thoughts, repeatedly telling you how much of a weakling you are for not being able to handle something as simple as relationships.
< If you continue to act in such a pathetic way, > Rinzler growls, < rest assured that you will only continue to be pathetic. >
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Posted: Mon Sep 04, 2017 12:16 pm
three
The rain is a cold, damp thing on the back of his neck. Merric lets it sink into his hair, his clothes, his skin, until there's nothing but the cold, until he is entirely and completely soaked through to the bone. He swings the horseman's pick around in a wide arc at the training dummy, misses, and overshoots, stumbling forward with his feet slipping and sliding on the grass.
< Again. > Rinzler snaps. < Again. Do it again. >
Merric straightens, takes a breath, and swings again. This time, the flat edge of the pick lands square on the dummy's side with a reverberation that shivers up and down his arms in the process, making his fingers shake. He's not used to physical activity, even less used to fighting at all; the impact almost makes him lose his grasp, Merric staggering with a gasp.
< Again. >
"I know!"
Merric almost yells it - he does yell it, half a cry, half something else, ripped from his throat. He swings his weapon in a wide arc and then again and again and again, until he's lost track, until he doesn't know what's happening around him, until all he knows is the pressure of the weapon in his grasp and the sound of Rinzler's mocking voice, and the thin line of hysteria that keeps threatening to rise up and choke him.
This is all he can do not to completely and utterly lose himself.
He doesn't know how long he stays at it, but when he finally comes back to himself, he's aching all over. His fingers are so tight around the handle of his weapon that his hands feel bruised, palms reddened and throbbing as Merric takes a step back, dragging in a sharp, painful breath. All around him is the water, deafening rain; a crack of thunder splits the air, shivering down Merric's spine.
He is so chilled and so dizzy that it takes almost every ounce of energy that Merric has left to stagger back to the dormitory building. He is only vaguely aware of Rinzler's satisfied thrum inside of his head, the pick desummoned only when Merric has reached the steps and realizes he's still carrying it, dragging it alongside him.
Everything hurts.
It's worse when he wakes up the next morning.
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Posted: Mon Sep 04, 2017 12:34 pm
four
With his hunter status, it means that he heals faster than normal humans, or so he's been told. But Merric's pains seem to be deeper than just skin level, and he is dizzy and aching and bruised all over from his stint outside, on the training field. He's fortunate enough that he doesn't seem to get sick from being out in the rain for so long, which must just be another facet of being a hunter.
It's too bad that it doesn't work with his thoughts.
All of Merric's attempts at not thinking about things are failing, especially before he falls asleep at night, when it's dark out and when everything is so much worse. He can't put his mind to rest; all he can think of is Lysander and Roswell and Melvin's consoling, pitying voice and Al's indignant expression and the press of lips and the touch of hands and the fact that he's never even understood anything until now.
It would be a lie to say that he doesn't want it. And admitting that is perhaps the most painful thing of all, because admitting it hurts everyone, including himself. It's an agonizing truth to realize that he would have kept kissing Lysander if he had gotten the chance to do so; that the touch of his fingers was a welcome weight on his thigh, that the heat of his mouth made something in him ache with longing. And not because it was just a kiss with anyone, but because it was a kiss with Lysander, and that makes it about ten times worse.
He's not in love with Lysander. He knows this, at the very least; a singular truth that Merric doesn't doubt. He's not in love with him, but he doesn't have to be in love with him in order to want him, and some part of Merric he doesn't understand wants Lysander, wants what he has to offer.
He hates himself for that. Because with Lysander comes Roswell, and there is nothing Merric can do to erase Roswell's mind and his face and his feelings from his thoughts. He doesn't have the right to do that, or the right to assume anything at all. Roswell is a kind, courteous, exceptionally intelligent person; he has been kind to Merric, and has never seemed to think that Merric has been intruding on their party.
Until now. Because now there is no question now that Merric is intruding.
It's his own fault, he knows this. Roswell has been in love with Lysander for a long time, and yet here Merric is, throwing it all in his face by kissing the man he's in love with, by crossing a line he has never intended to cross, and all because of this ache inside of him that he can't seem to soothe.
And a part of Merric - the part that hurts a little more than he cares to admit - wonders if Lysander only is doing this because he can't have the person he actually wants.
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Posted: Mon Sep 04, 2017 12:42 pm
five
The loneliness is a tangible thing.
It eats away at Merric, more so here than back at home. At home, he at least had his studies to focus on, his classes, anything else; university and the program he was in gave the illusion of having a life outside of his home, even if an illusion was all it was.
Here, there is nothing to take away from that. Here, there is only the loneliness and the desperate desire deep within Merric's heart to mean something. To mean something to someone else, to mean something good, something worthwhile. His entire life he has remained under Barron's shadow, under the constant negativity of his parents' disapproval, under the realization that, no matter what he does, he will never be good enough.
Merric will always be second best, and that has not changed.
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Posted: Mon Sep 04, 2017 1:01 pm
six
What do you want?
What will you do?
What do you want?
The questions filter slowly in and out of Merric's head as he sits on the steps of the dormitory building, staring out at the rain. There's something comforting about it, in spite of him not liking water all that much; oceans are too big, too intimidating, and he never cared for swimming, because he could never see without his glasses on. The sound of the storm outside, however, mirrors the twist of confusing, conflicting emotions inside of Merric's head, and somehow this is soothing to him.
His head is resting against the doorframe, body tilted sideways. Merric's hands are in his lap, fingers absently smoothing over his ring again, and he doesn't think about why he wears it, in spite of where it came from and who gave it to him. He thinks of Barron, of the arrogant smirks and careless eyes. Of the warmth of Lysander's hands, the press of his lips. Of Roswell's look of longing, of his endless loyalty. Of his parents' shouts, of their dismissive expressions, their cold irritation at everything he did - or failed to do.
Merric slowly rotates through all of these things, a sluggish carousel to despondent music. He is so tired; he feels as though he's run a thousand miles in no time at all, and now everything is protesting, his mind unable to turn off, exhausting and continual.
What do you want?
I am afraid, Merric thinks, and it's what he told Melvin, a truth ripped from him, bursting from his throat before he could stop it. The raw fact of it all that he never wanted to admit, but that now is unable to be taken back, because it's at the basis of everything else.
< What are you afraid of? > Rinzler asks.
Everything.
< That is not an answer. >
A breath escapes, visible in the foggy, humid air.
I'm afraid of Lysander substituting me for someone else. I'm afraid of Roswell hating me. I'm afraid of ruining my friendship with them, and by extension, Sam's as well, because if I ruin my friendship with them, then it will pass the awkwardness on. I'm afraid of wanting what I want. I'm afraid of this island. I'm afraid of never being able to have anything at all.
I'm afraid of myself. Of all the things I've done wrong, and all the things I keep doing wrong.
I'm afraid I will never be better than this.
I'm afraid of being alone.
Rinzler is silent for a long moment, just a suggestion of a presence in Merric's thoughts.
< Fear only exists to be conquered. >
I'm afraid I'm not strong enough for that.
< You are too weak. You can be strong enough, if you try. >
I don't know how.
< You keep going, that is how.
It sounds so easy when he's not thinking of it. Merric closes his eyes, feels the dampness on his skin, the thickness of the rain soaked air. His hands are shaking; he folds them together in an instinctive gesture, his whole body curving over so that he's hunched, shoulders stiff.
< You already know what it is that you're going to say. >
Something escapes Merric's throat, like a breath held too long, ragged and painful.
Yes.
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Posted: Mon Sep 04, 2017 1:04 pm
seven
He doesn't know what the right answer is. But he knows what answer he has ready.
There is, really, only one answer to all of this.
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