❝I want to tell you this story without having to confess anything, without having to say that I ran out into the street to prove something.❞
“Why is it you always look like I’ve wronged you, every time I come to you almost dead? You know I can’t die, you know that better than anyone else.”
Wade’s musing, and he has nothing sharp in the way he talks.
“Is it because I remind you of them? Of the people you’ve had to lose? Or is it because this is just so gory and rated R for your eyes?” His hearty laugh that comes after proves it, the bullets lodged in his chest moving around a few layers beneath the skin of his suit when he does. “Or is it because you’re afraid I maybe won’t rebound from death one time? Is it because you’ll really, secretly miss me?” The space goes quiet. They listen to the sound of the cars passing somewhere far off, but close enough to flood the alley they stand in.
“You’re almost acting like you care, Juwon.” Wade laughs again and in response, a tear rolls down Juwon’s cheek.
Wade’s whole body tenses up at the sight. “Alright, you’re scaring me a little now.” His feet are quick to close the space between them, only to move back a step when he lifts his hands towards him.
Wade hesitates, because they are defined by these very moments of hesitation – and this moment is just the same amongst the rest.
Another tear escapes and covers Juwon’s cheek, and it’s only then that Wade pulls the mask off himself. The mask gets stranded on the floor somewhere, while Wade focuses on placing his hand on Juwon, smearing a bit of red as he swipes the tears away. “Say something.” His thumb now traces circles on his cheek, and Wade gets closer. “Say anything. Anything at all, Juwon. God, now I just seem like a complete – no, a whole asshole. Not the place, but pun intended.”
When he gets close enough, Juwon observes him. He’s stared before, but he’s never given him a real look – the kind where your eyes begin to notice the shapes the dots on his face make, or the types of things his eyes seem to reflect, and the rest of the world that doesn’t appear on his hues. He takes a good look at him, because he’s finally given up on the notion of denying him his hands, and more importantly, half a heart, and whatever else is left of him that he can still call a body.
Wade’s never been more serious, and Juwon’s sure he’ll never be anymore serious than now. He savors the moment, and etches into his mind the way Wade’s brows are, and the fine lines he’s never noticed besides his mouth. “I want to tell you this story without having to confess anything, without having to say that I ran out into the street to prove something.“ Wade’s thumb swipes under his chin, to lift his head up. Their eyes meet when Wade pleads, “Please.”
He’s never heard his voice like this. Even in the alleyway, his voice seems so quiet, and he feels so small. He can’t remember the rush of running on water, and instead, fear is what grapples every bit of him, even down to his feet and toes. His legs get chained down by it, fright being the heaviest metal he’s been bound by to date.
“Everything reminds me of everything I’ve lost. It’s not that. I’ve seen things much more grotesque than the bullets you come home with – and it’s not that either. I know there’s nothing that can kill you, and how tragic that is above all else. So it’s not that.”
He bows his head, and Wade’s hand falls to the side. The alley fills up with noise again, and the cars seem much closer to them now, suffocatingly so. Juwon’s lips part then close, a couple of times as if it is difficult to confess it, his whole body uneasy with what is about to fall from his mouth.
“I’m afraid… because one day I’ll get used to losing you. Because one day this will become a habit, and losing you to almost-death will no longer affect me. Because there’s going to be one day when suddenly I don’t feel anything even when you’re dead, Wade.”
“I’m afraid because one day I won’t feel anything even after losing you.”
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