colour fade.

There’s an opposite to déjà vu. They call it jamais vu. It’s when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first. Everybody is always a stranger. N o t h i n g is ever familiar.

[sirskylar-blog]

    Skylar watches him, and he watches, but nothing changes. It’s as if he wants him to just, magically snap back up and be normal again — but really, has he ever been normal? Has Skylar not noticed? How could they be so happy for so long, and then it not be real? —- No. Spencer hasn’t always been like this. He was doomed from the start to fall into it, but he is not hollow.     Not this hollow, and, not without help. He just wants to shake him, to yank him back to him, to scream in his face — to wake him up, but he can’t. He would just hurt him. He would scare him further into the pits of fucking hell that he imagines are his poor boy’s mind; and he doesn’t know what to do. Is there anything he can do?  I just want to be with you. How can he? It doesn’t make s e n s e.     “Are you hearing yourself, Spencer?” It’s not angry. It’s a genuine question — and, in comparison to the last thing he said, much softer. Much more afraid. He’s never been more scared of losing him than he right now, and he hadn’t even noticed the tears rolling down his face and then down onto Spencer’s hand.     “You want to be with me. But you’re not here. I am here. I am always going to be here.” His voice is broken as he repeats it back to him, and he’s squeezing onto him harder than before — as if it’ll bring him back. The harder he cries, his lips seem to spread — it’s a bittersweet smile, if it’s anything. “You say that as if you didn’t need me just as much. You say that as if I tried to stop this at all. ——- Look at me. Please, look at me.” "I guess I had it coming, huh?" "Even if you’re — even if you don’t come back, I’ll always be here." "Always."

[lionxheart]

     Are you hearing yourself, Spencer? The words seem to resonate within his skull, bounce back and forth from surface to surface, but when he finally does lift his eyes, it's to stare over Skylar's shoulder rather than rest on his face. He can see them there, waiting -- a thousand different worlds, a thousand different scenarios -- God, he's always been so fucking stuck in his version of reality, he never even noticed how easy it is to blur the lines.

                    But he doesn't want to blur the lines, does he?                      He just wants to stop himself seeing them. He                     wants to be here. He wants to be with Skylar.

     "I'm trying to be here. I promise, I'm trying. I'm trying. My head is too loud, Skylar, all the time -- it hurts."

           i'm sorry. i don't want it to. i'm just trying to stay. i'm just trying to stay in the         best way that i know how to. i don't want to go. i don't want to go, even if it's so                                                       much q u i e t e r over there...

     He's finally looking at him, but more than that, he's seeing him -- he's seeing him, and he's feeling him, and he's brushing the tip of his nose against his tears like it might get rid of them. Skylar must understand that this isn't him running away, this is him holding on. If he were going to run away, if he were going to let himself do that, then he would be gone already.

                                                              Permanently.

     "I love you. Just stay."            He doesn't know            who he's asking            to stay anymore.

[comxt-deactivated20150509]

Some kind of perpetual chill finds his hands and he rubs them together carefully while his eyes follow the sound of Spencer’s voice to find his face and it’s dark. Veiled behind something Rusty can’t quite describe.                         Rusty is at a sudden loss:                         For words and everything                         else apparently    almost                         as if he can’t quite catch                         his breath; he can’t even                         hold it. Then, there’s an odd childlike feeling. He can’t understand for the life of him what’s happening in the moment of absence                                                  absolute absence                                                                        before he inhales again and okay.                 Okay. He has this.                           He has to    There are no other options.                            ”I’m here, Spence. Wherever you are. I’m with you.”

[lionxheart]

     He doesn't look at him -- can't look at him, perhaps. He hears him, but it's as if he's at a great distance; like the world is fading in and out of focus, and his entire existence is comprised of endlessly woven threads of alternate realities, lain out for him to pluck and knot himself up in. Which one should he choose? Which one, which one, which one?

                                                                             there's one in particular                                                                                                        that's just too beautiful                                                                                                        to pass up --                                                                                                         and spencer reaches;

     Trembling hands find purchase against Rusty's rib cage, and he slots himself into his lap, wraps himself around him and buries himself inside of him and hopes that he never, never, never has to come out. His eyes slide shut and he can't look at them anymore -- can't look at them. He wants this one, only this one; the one with pretty blue eyes and warm breaths and fucking otters who hold hands while they sleep.

                                                               god, he's so tired.                                                      wherever you are. i'm with you.

     "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know where I am anymore."

[sirskylar-blog]

[1:59:03 AM] tayshine ☼: i was thinking disappointed. scared. wounded like he’s fucking /betrayed/ him over and over and over again, and like he can see him fading away and he can’t STOP it [1:59:09 AM] tayshine ☼: did i just describe the look

[lionxheart]

[2:10:23 AM] tayshine ☼: [ HIDES IN BOMB SHELTER ]

[sirskylar-blog]

      He doesn’t reach back. He doesn’t say a word. Spencer’s fingers are on his jaw, and he can’t bring himself to do anything. It feels like they’re surrounded by broken glass —- and it’s safe to say, this is the most fragile they’ve been since —- since, then. It’s worse than then, even, and his heart beats within the confines of a hollow chest, throat swallowing past the lump that’s developed over the past few moments.        Finally, he moves.        Skylar’s body remains almost totally still, save for the hand that reaches up, clasps Spencers, and holds it so firmly that it’s unclear if he’s trying to squeeze it or if he’s simply trying to make Spencer hold on. Hold onto him. Hold onto reality. He’s still real. They’re still real. Even if he doesn’t want to be, he’s still with Skylar, and he’s not about to let him leave him — even if only in mind. For, without Spencer’s mind, he was not Spencer. He was not the person that Skylar loved with every fiber of his being. He wasn’t his lionheart.       “I will when you do.” The tone he uses with him is heavier than anything he’s sure he’s done before — heh, he almost sounds like his father. But it still has a gentle, soft complexity that screams that the words are coming from his heart, and that alone.        He moves again, but this time, he takes their hands down and grab Spencer’s other hand. Double the power. Now he’s moving in closer — but not for a kiss. He’s looking him dead in the eyes. “Tell me you will, and I’ll stop.” He’s shaking. It started with his legs, and then his arms, and now his hands were violently shaking — and he’s not sure why. He just keeps squeezing. “Tell me you’ll stop.” 

[lionxheart]

     And Spencer's found over the years that sometimes, just sometimes, the worst thing to say is to not say anything at all. He does it now, with Skylar's voice hanging heavy in the air, and Spencer's hazel eyes downcast like he just can't bear to look at him anymore. God, he always wants to see him -- he always, always, fucking always wants to see him, but he doesn't want to see him burning. He doesn't want to look into his eyes and see himself burning. He feels disconnected in a way that he never has before -- in a way that makes how he struggles to stop the tremors in Skylar's frame from taking over completely seem like something that somebody else is doing; thumbs caressing against the back of his hands and lips parting dry and unsure.

     "I've fucked it up, Sky. It's gone to shit. I've..." What is he trying to get out, exactly? What is he telling him? He doesn't know. His brain feels all foggy, muddled, like his thoughts are an unfathomable disarray. "You needed me and I didn't see it. I wasn't there. Not the first time, and not even the second time, when I should have learned. I'm not here now, I'm not here in front of you, I'm -- miles. Miles. I want to be with you."

     But I can't.

     "I can't tell you I'll stop. I just want to be with you."

     I just want to be with you, and I can't even look at you. 

[slore-queen]

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[lionxheart]

          He's fucked up; perpetually in a world that doesn't rightfully belong to him. Rusty's world? No, but not Spencer's, either -- not exclusively? The next breath to pull through his lungs feels like razor blades, and sounds like waves crashing, and he reaches out to touch him, but finds himself falling short. Where are they?

                                                                                 " Rusty." His name is breathed out;                                                                                   Spencer's eyes flit nowhere even                                                                                   near him   --    like  he's watching                                                                                   an entirely different scene.

[lionxheart]

     He doesn't know what it's like -- he doesn't know what it's like to think, to think clearly anymore; he doesn't know what it's like to not have Skylar l o o k i n g at him like that from across the room, far, far, far away. So much further than he's ever been. Oceans in between them. Worlds. Galaxies.

                                                        What has he d o n e.

        "I'm sorry."

                                      But for what, exactly? For what?

     " Stop -- stop. Stop doing that." He's not even sure what he's asking for anymore, but he's moved, and he's reached out for him, and his fingertips are just barely grazing along the line of his jaw. The galaxies only seem to be expanding.

[myheroliam]

[alohawolves-blog]

[zaynsxo]

[legendxrylover-blog]

〈 △ ₋ ;;     As far as he’s concerned that works for him, he’d just leave out the part where he mentioned he doesn’t pay attention to sports. It’s not a big deal, but it makes him a less credible source in his ‘friends’ book. “Right answer! You win…” Ian shoved one of his hands into his pocket, then the other before pulling out a piece of gum. “A piece of gum….”

[lionxheart]

     Spencer just looks at the other male for a few, long moments, as if trying to decide the exact appropriate way to respond before anything else. "Um, that's okay...you can keep it." Right, well -- he's rather top-notch at making any situation awkward in just a short span of time, but this might be a new record.

[comxt-deactivated20150509]

Reverence. Sweet reverence comes down on him in waves the same shade of warmth that coincides with the sound of Spencer’s voice and Rusty colours himself religious for just a tick or two. He smiles into the valley of the other’s collarbone and steals himself a moment of this     let’s Spencer’s hold on him be the only sense of grounding he has before the world folds back in. Responsibility will come later. Much, much later, if he can help it. Rusty wants to go back in time for a little while; grasp onto the reckless, wild youth that they once were. Even if their version of reckless and wild was far less dangerous and much more turning words and phrases in the odd hours of awareness between cycles of exhaustion. It felt reckless. Wild. Falling in love is like that. Rusty doesn’t need to fall back in     he never fell out     he just got lost for a little while. He found his way, though. They both did. It just took a while. Rusty doesn’t need, nor want, to fall in love with Spencer; He is. Rusty wants to fall in love with the world around them, with him; to find all the previously loved and love such like they should be loved. Make up for lost time, maybe. He isn’t really thinking about it and if he were it’s not something he can explain. It’s just a feeling. An inkling. The need to find something, else, as well. His first dire desire is odd. But of course it is. "Spence     “ Lifting his head from where he tucked himself into his neck, Rusty shifts the slightest bit to look at the beauty he’s curled around. "      wake up. Otters. Where do otters live? Lets go find them.”

[lionxheart]

     Otters. Otters? Slow coming back to consciousness isn't meant to have him picturing small mammals, but apparently Rusty's got other ideas, and Spencer lets out a tiny, disgruntled noise at the absence of his breath awash over his neck. Normally he isn't like that -- isn't like that at all, really -- but something about Rusty brings out the worst (or the best) in him; needless to say, he isn't particularly inclined to apologize for it, at any rate, and at least his eyes have fully opened now.

     Shifting, he's sat up a bit straighter, and hazel eyes focus on blue, making his heart do a strange thing in his chest -- some sort of cross between flipping and violent constriction -- and his fingers curl just that much tighter into a shirt that isn't his own. Right. Okay.

     "In...rivers? I think." He's speaking slowly, disoriented, and where did he even put his glasses last night? Rusty, even as close as he is, is still somewhat blurry, and Spencer is in severe need of coffee for the headache he can already feel forming behind his temples. As much as he'd like to say all of his problems have simply up and disappeared now that Rusty is here, life's just not that glamorous, and Spencer's far more broken than anyone he's ever met before. Doesn't really seem fair, does it? 

     A jaw-cracking yawn makes him bring one of his arms up to cover his mouth, hopefully managing to stifle the majority of the morning breath assault he's nearly just made on the other boy, and he turns his face away to be safe with the rest, shaking his head a bit. "Definitely in rivers. I'm not sure how easy they'll be to find, but... We can try." Only he would agree to something just like that. Perhaps it's just because it's Rusty. 

[lionxheart]

IM VERY DISTRAUGHT RN

[loveiswater]

There found it! :P 

ahaha wont lie took me like a while to think of the perf things for him

X) kemi x spence give me emotions man let me be

[lionxheart]

AAAHHH HE LOVES IT DONT TOUCH M E

[loveiswater]

*giggles* 

I LIKE CHRISTMAS OKAY. OH! wait

there’s one more present

but I cant find a PICTURE of the one i picture lmao

[lionxheart]

IM VERY DISTRAUGHT RN

[ollyapplebys]

i say they need to be brooding 2 indie 4 u frans who occasionally motivates each other to get some sun before walking back in bc ~ existential crisis even walking outta the door ~

[lionxheart]

i say this is the most beautiful proposition ive gotten in ages. lets do it. 

[lionxheart]

If you're opening this, I'm not there. Mostly because I was summoned to Jaz's house- but I will be back soon. I've never been good at staying away from you for too long. Sometimes.. I wonder what you're thinking. You look so far away- and I feel like I can't reach you. Sometimes it isn't seamless, and I feel like you deserve seamless, and I should let you go, so you can find someone easier- someone who isn't your opposite. Who sleeps through the night-and doesn't wall herself into isolation. 

But most of the time- you're the only person I want walled in with me. And I'm looking around all the pointless parties looking for the boyin the glasses. Most of the time, I'm bumbling through words, trying to tell you how much I love you-and I'm failing at it- but I glance at you, and I know you get it. That despite the dramatics, all I'm really saying is

I could kiss you forever- just you.

Lay under sheets, half drunk on wine, trying to count the tattoos on your sleeves, for far too many hours

that I have a very distinct spencer problem- that doesn't seem to be going anywhere

and that I hope you have..a Kemi problem too.

Merry Christmas. 

(signed first edition with illustration) 

(signed first edition) 

(signed first edition) 

[fuckyeahjourdandunn]