Blank Space
An idea I had while reading the Black Light novel, since it opens up to so many possibilities between them. And I simply love it.
—
Codes are running on the screen in front of you, and once more you forget about your surroundings, as your fast fingers type in more of those symbols and characters. Things start moving at your will, because you’re in control now. Only you exist there, nothing else.
But the codes are suddenly broken into a million pieces, shattered in front of your eyes, as something drags you back to your miserable reality, making the frames of your desktop screen as well as your surroundings slowly reappear.
You leave a long sigh, frustrated. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” you ask the owner of the hand laying on your shoulder, but you keep your eyes on the screen instead.
“Shouldn’t I ask you the same?” he’s quick and that bothers you, he notices the grip in your hand. “Can’t sleep.” he admits, letting go of your shoulder, and you didn’t notice how warm his touch was until now. You despise it.
You finally look at him, you’re watching his profile as he studies your desktop screen, curious.
“What’s this?” he asks staring at your screen. He’s about to touch your keyboard, but you’re quick enough to push his hand away.
“Don’t touch.” you warn him. “I told you already. It’s a simulator.”
“Sounds like a game to me.” he says, straighting up, and you can see he’s already lost interest in it.
“I doubt a simple minded like you could understand it.” you scoff back because you know he’ll never take your stuff seriously, he never did.
He stares back at you. You’re still frowning your brows, but you didn’t notice until his index finger touched the gap between your eyes.
“Stop it!” you react instantly, you’re disturbed and easily irritated. You slap his hand away instinctively. You never knew how to deal with touching.
His eyes are still on you. You know he’s studying you, reading your traces, and that only increases your irritation. “Point taken.” he says after a few seconds. “Are you gonna tell me how this works?” you suppose he’s talking about the simulator.
“It’s not— finished.” you answer, trying to erase those past ten seconds from your mind. “Still needs to be improved. Some of the codes I added are not working yet. I was trying a new sequence the moment you— arrived.” you look at him.
“Sounds difficult.” he adds, looking back at your desktop screen, and you’re not sure if he’s actually curious or just trying to comfort you. You don’t really wanna think about it. “May I?”
“Code? You?” you try not to sound excited about it, but deep down you know you are. “Try this.” you type in a sequence of characters, your fingers quickly fill up several code lines down your screen. You’re doing it on purpose. You know he can’t follow you, you’re playing him. You feel good.
You finally take a step back to face him, pride all over your face. He walks in and types something on the keyboard. You approach to read the characters on the screen, it says “Fuck you.” he’s smirking the moment you jerk your head at him. “It’s not that hard.” he says at last.
You try to avoid his gaze, you don’t understand but something’s hurting as memories from two years ago take over your thoughts. You feel nostalgic and you despise it, but you can’t fight it.
You ask yourself what is he even doing there. You mourned him. You have spent hours trying to overcome it. He should’ve just stayed dead.
You snort, snapping out of those thoughts, but he’s studying you, silently, and you know you can’t hide anything from that stupid CASIE. “What if I expected it?” he says, and you don’t get it.
“What are you talking about?” you’re starting to grow anxious. Your eyes want to follow his shape, but you fight the urge back.
He leaves you hanging for a few seconds. “A hug.” he then adds. You jerk your head up instantly to face him. He’s facing sideways. “You asked if I were expecting a hug when we met, is there a problem if I actually expected it?”
“N-no.” you answer, and for once you mean it. “If this is a joke then—”
“This isn’t a joke, Pritchard.” he reassures you, you notice he’s somehow offended by your distrust by the way he calls your name.
“Fine.” you tell him, you didn’t mean to offend him, anyway. He’s waiting. “You mean now?” He sighs, and you can tell he’s rolling his eyes even with those dark shields on. “Ok.”
You approach slowly, he, on the other hand, doesn’t move a single inch, forcing you to make the first move. You open your arms just enough so you can place them around him. You don’t get too close, your chests a few inches apart, and you stay like that for a while. “You really suck at this.” he adds, you try to find an excuse but it’s already too late, he’s got his weight all over you.
You’re stuck like a stone, you don’t dare moving an inch, you simply can’t. He rests his head in the crook of your neck, and you can feel his breath against your skin, it’s warm, and for a second you forgot how to breathe as he pulls you closer.
Your eyes won’t fix anywhere, instead they keep jumping from place to place. He tells you to relax, but you can’t, not when you’re not in control anymore.
He’s letting go, and you close your eyes, relieved that you can breathe once again. You inhale, but something else rather than air fills your mouth this time. You shut your eyes at the realization.
It’s warm and rough, and you try not to think about the blood running south, you never felt more impotent. His beard is prickling, and it feels so good against your skin, but you hate yourself for even acknowledging it. It should be disgusting, wrong. Instead the taste of his tongue is bringing down any strength left in your body.
So many times you told yourself he was nothing but trouble, and now you find yourself melting under his touch. And you feel so ashamed. You’re ashamed of yourself, for falling so easily at his feet.
That’s when you break up, you can’t let him go any further. You can’t let it happen, or else it will devour you for once.
And that scares the hell outta you.
He calls out your name, gently, but you’re heading back to your desktop, and you’re about to dive into this cold world made of digits again.
And when you finally arrive, you’re certain that now you’re safe, now you’re in control, and you don’t have to go back.
—