Indiana Jones is getting his licks in when she
asks.
He thinks if he would’ve been a kid in the eras long
since passed that maybe his life might’ve turned out
a bit different. He wouldn’t have had to fight a battle
to prove a point or to lose his humanity unless it was
to music or some all the rage movement that preached
‘make love not war’ all the while oppressing an entire
class of people they could care less for.
It would’ve been simple but nothing that he ever relied
on as a story or a foundation of a lie ever came simply
to him.
Because while he’d normally sag into her and bare himself
without a thought, he finds his brother, his life before this
had all begun, was something he was meant to protect.
He’s afraid to say much because one day he’ll wake-up
and it’ll be gone. The vibrant red tresses of Billy’s
retreating form, the thick canopy of a forest he’d
lost himself in.
It hurt to remember but it was what made him who
he was and while he was utter and complete SHITE,
he’d take it over being dead and completely joyless.
And he gives her a small, genuine smile. Because while
he wants to keep his secrets he knows Tulip. He knows
his love for her won’t keep him quiet long but he’d hold
on a bit longer if he can help it.
She had her own demons to worry over after all.
In the silence after her question, Tulip continues to trace invisible patterns along the length of denim covering Cassidy's thigh. Her gaze is wide and patient, knowing she probably won't get an answer to her question. And if it were any other day, any other person, she would have pushed. But there was a sadness, a sort of gaping grief that seemed to swallow Cassidy up. His eyes became black holes, the edge of an abyss into which she had a glimpse before he pushed her back out again. Whether it was for her own good or his, she wasn't sure.
Eventually, he denies her request, and Tulip simply nods. She isn't about to pressure him into divulging things he doesn't want to. Love might make people do crazy things, but there were layers upon layers of time that covered up whatever it was that Cassidy was thinking --- remembering. One curly haired girl wasn't about to change that for him. No matter how much he loved her.
And then he qualifies his statement, a warm but small smile gracing his face, revealing crooked teeth (no fangs). It's haunting and melancholy and Tulip can't help but want to put her arms around him and pull him against her, PROTECT him from whatever it was that lived in his sleep. But she didn't. She just returned the smile with one of her own, a sincere act of intimacy, and returned her gaze to the television. ❝That's okay,❞ she says without looking. Because it is.
❝I still can't believe he's afraida snakes,❞ she muses aloud, not wanting to linger on Cassidy's nightmare --- on the panic and violence that clouded his gaze in the brief moment after he woke up and before he truly came back to reality. She didn't want him to feel any more isolated by his mind than he already was.
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