be careful making wishes in the dark |nathan

[lucas jeremiah eden]

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sorry, heather, it needed to be done eventually. c:

"I don't even know why i'm here, maybe it's just because i am hopeful, or maybe its because i'm pathetic, but i need to be here," Looming in the shadows of the library stood a lanky young man. He shouldn't look so out of place with such a young face, he should easily be associated with the few students that still went to the library to study, but he certainly was out of place. His eyes were so wide that the whites of them were reminiscent of an owl. Then they quickly looked away from a pair of staring eyes from the librarian's counter as he wandered into an isle of books labeled under fiction.

He never found comfort by the words of books. If anything he found them frustrating. Even in school he'd read for a short while before becoming angered with different characters and how they were made. But now, there was something more about them that made him so anxious. The books became representative of something more than just the pesky childhood that loomed memories over him. Now they were attached to a soul, on that Lucas had become particularly taken with. Just looking at any group of books made his mind start to race and his anxiety stirred up.

"He might of read these very words," his finger glided down the spine of one book, and then up another one. If it wasn't for Him, he wouldn't be here. If it wasn't for the comfort in the books He explained in group therapy sessions, Lucas would be in the sterility that was his parent's house. No dramatic colors as all these book spines offered, no sharp objects, and no means of human interaction. But since being introduced to that boy... or rather man, in the institution, Lucas began pushing himself. Pushing himself closer to Him.

Infatuation might of been the best way to describe it, but for Lucas all he understood was there was a desire to be around Him. All he wanted was to know more about him. He wanted to get inside of his brain, understand, and be the sort of man that He could admire. Shrinks have told him that it was "unhealthy" or "obsessive" but Lucas didn't care. He only actually cared about Him.

"What if he was here," He closed his eyes, one hand still resting on the tops of books on the shelf, "What if i was to turn around and then his beautiful, soft, face, and flowing hair was right there. His intense, deep, eyes..." A shiver ran up Lucas's spine. The vision of his face formulated, but quickly, his eyes flashed open. "I need to stop," he couldn't think about it. But at the same time it had been the only thing that he could think about. Everything he had done was relevant to Him.

This would be the third time of the week that he'd shown up at the library. Almost every day he came here, just in case. The only time he didn't show up was when he had to go to therapy. His parents had made sure to purchase him time at a therapist after the institute said he could leave. It had been something that Lucas grew accustom to before the institute, even, but now it was cutting into the time that Lucas made for himself to "bump" into Him.

All he could think about, ever, was Nathaniel Kastra.

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[nathaniel james kastra]

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i dont care what you think, as long as its about me

Ever since he had been forced into therapy in juvenile detention, Nathan hadn't held books at the same value. He'd been forced to explain his love of them. He'd merely told them that as a child, he'd read any book he could get his hands on. It just happened. It was the therapists that explained to him that he used them as a comfort, though hearing that he felt like he already knew it. What kid didn't want a different reality to live in? Each kid had their own little world to escape too, it was usually imagination, but some sought the realm of books. Nathan's imagination was always filled with monsters, in his dreams they would try to eat him and all he would do was run. His therapists said that was because of his childhood, and all he could do was stare. Did they really think he was that stupid? Everything about him was because of his childhood, his mothers abusive boyfriend, the bullies and the lack of care put on the youngest of the family. Nathan was smart because he couldn't be anything else, and he needed pride. He only opened up in the group therapy sessions because he was required too, otherwise he'd get punished. Nathan got in enough fights as it was, sometimes he'd last weeks pinned in his bed with no where to go because if he did, he'd get solitary confinement. He was never aware of the others around him, the boys sneering at him, except when he fought. And he always won. He was small, but resourceful, and had nothing against grabbing a fork and stabbing a boys hand with it. He never paid attention to the other boys in the group therapies either, even when they cried. That was only weakness to Nathan, and he told himself that not once did he break down and cry in his room at night.

He never knew what drew him back to the library. Nathan always avoided the building, knowing without doubt he would be recognized there. The librarian called him by his first name, often saying hello, and he had always been happy to talk to her when he went in. She knew how his life was, and he was sure she knew about the abuse, but she never talked about that. Instead she would recommend books to him, sometimes giving him one that they had just get in, asking him to read it and see if it was appropriate to put in the youth section or not. She was probably his only friend, and he enjoyed her company. Most nights at the library would end with him quietly reading in a chair, and she would let him stay there as she closed up, locking the doors and spending a few hours returning books to their shelves, sweeping and straightening up the place. When she was done, Nathan would leave, and sometimes she'd give him a ride home. He didn't know if she still worked there, but she seemed like the type that would always be at the library becoming older than some of the books themselves. The library also carried memories, and it seemed like such a safe haven. Something Nathan told himself he didn't need anymore, and yet he was here again, passing through the doors. He didn't know. Maybe he was in need of a safe haven right now, life seemed like a haze in front of his eyes. Nothing of interest had happened since his birthday, when he hit his sister with a boiling pot of water. He was bored, he needed something to happen. Nathan didn't know how the library would help, but it was worth a shot.

It hurt how the library still smelt the same, it was as if Nathan was travelling back in time. He felt fourteen, browsing through the dusty old spines once more. The chair was still there, the same one he always sat in. He hurried to between the shelves, not bothering to check to see if the librarian was here. Nathan didn't even know how she felt about the shooting, but it must have been the same as everyone else. Why couldn't anyone understand? They all just hated him with blind conviction. No one ever tried to actually form their opinion on the matter, useless pawns. Nathan walked through the shelves carefully, the books familiar. It felt like a betrayal, he didn't belong here anymore, he didn't belong in this town. Nathan was aware someone else was close by, there was usually other people in the library, but they had never bothered him. He saw the figure through the book shelves as he was browsing, though, and would have normally avoided the aisle. Just to avoid the awkward 'I'm just going to walk past the books you're looking at sorry” moment. Nathan turned into the aisle though, suddenly not caring. He didn't expect the figure to be familiar, however. Was his head playing tricks on him? The panic that swelled in Nathans body hadn't been felt in years, and he felt the powerful urge to run.

HIIIIIIIIIII I LOVE YOUUUUUU

[lucas jeremiah eden]

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lucas is ridiculous creepy

Lucas's hand fell from the top of the books back to his side, head downwards as he reminisced about the time he spent in the institute. For him, the best times were when they were alone in their room, or rather cell. It was peaceful, and often silent. In the latest part of night Lucas would often force himself to remain awake, no matter how sleep deprived he was, just so that he could hear His rhythmic breathing. Sometime's Lucas would close his eyes in the darkness, and try to imagine how His heart sounded in comparison to his breathing. There were even times where Lucas would take a peak from the top bunk and lower his head to see the soft tones of the emergency lights in the hallway grace His face. Often, it was the image that Lucas carried with him to his dreams.

Now that Lucas found his way in Caroline, he never really was able to find anything else amusing, nothing meaningful. Practically, he lived in a paper house of paper parents that were fragile and scared of the rocks, the earth, and the trees that brought them to be. He'd grown sick of their ways, and the ways they held so similar before Lucas was even institutionalized. He'd needed something different, a new story he could appreciate, another tale that would lead him to a fantasy of a place that wasn't so sterile.

That face, that was the one that brought him to be, that brought him to see the world for what it was and made him want to become everything that could possibly be admired by such a man. "You're stupid, so stupid, he wouldn't care about a soul like you," His eyes closed tighter, to the point where Lucas was about to give himself a headache, "You're pathetic, worthless, and could never do the things that he has done, you'd never be able to live through what he lived through," Frustrated, Lucas's head tilted upwards. He was about ready to leave this place.

"Wait," His mind told him to stop himself and his entire body dried to cement. His eyes grew wide, and for a moment he was sure that they were building up with tears. Could it be? Could it be after eighty-four days of walking back and forth to the library that he'd actually see the one he'd been looking for. "N-n-n-na-nathan…?" He thought he'd only heard the words in his mind, but they were certainly verbalized, "Y-you're here?". His tongue was dry. This couldn't be a fantasy. If it was a fantasy, Lucas would've went to touch Nathan's cheek with his hand so easily. Lucas would've had more confidence to push himself against Nathan's body and tell him how much he deeply cared for him, how he'd be there for him physically and emotionally. He'd kiss his cheek and tell him it was okay, and pray that Nathan would be able to show, somehow, that he cared just as much about Lucas as much as Lucas cared about him. This was real. Everything was real, and the reality made Lucas freeze.

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[nathaniel james kastra]

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i dont care what you think, as long as its about me

Nathan had thought he forgot everyone in juvenile detention, their faces blurred together in a cretin haze. No one had been of any consequence there, no one interesting enough. He found himself often feeling better than these kids, they had only beaten someone up too many times, got caught with drugs. Nathan had murdered a kid, and once he stopped feeling guilty or told himself as much, he felt so much better than other people. They were all so boring. Living there little lives, never questioning anything, never bothering to break the law. You could get away with so much if you were just smart about it. People could be smart, they just never took the time too try. To caught up in their grey lives, walking along the same old routines. That was how Nathan got bored, sucked into his night job, seeing no way out. He needed the job to pay his bills, but he could find more creative ways to live. Not that he would steal, but there were other options.

The library at least held the facade of holding some brilliant minds, even if they were all bound between the covers of books. Authors were the only ones who were interesting to Nathan, the ones who had any knowledge and could write a book about it. They knew how the world worked, but even then some seemed ignorant, boring like the rest of them. That was part of the reason Nathan always steered away from fiction novels, most of the writers only acted at being smart. In juvie it had just been worse, Nathan was so sick of the people around him, and he was glad to have left. Never seeing them again, never bothering his attention at being on guard at all times. Yet, he knew the face in front of him, he knew this boy. Nathan couldn't remember his name, that much slipped his mind, but his face brought back memories of grey speckled walls and the stucco roof of his room. What the fuck was he doing here?

The last place Nathan would have expected something like this to happen was the library. Perhaps it was a testament to how much had changed about his life, how no place was safe anymore. He considered moving away, walking so the boy didn't see him, but he seemed to sense Nathan's look. He obviously recognized him. There were no boys in juvie who had lived in Caroline, Nathan knew that. What was he doing here? The boy stuttering his name broke the illusion, and Nathans' body tensed. He felt anger and panic swell in his body, his fists clenching at his sides. He didn't pay attention to the boys nervous attitude, the way he seemed surprised to see Nathan, what he could have been doing here at the Caroline library. He cast a glance behind him, seeing no one in the library. It felt like a bad movie, the hush suffocating around them. Without hesitation, Nathan grabbed the front of the boys shirt, suddenly close to his personal space. “Don't call me that,” he hissed, eyes wide. He didn't know who this boy was but he wasn't going to ruin his entire cover. Nathan pushed the boy against the bookshelves, his breathing fast. “Who are you? What the hell are you doing here?”

hehehehehehe i like it

[lucas jeremiah eden]

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but he's just so.. so him.. i can't even deal with him.

Everything seemed to be working in different speeds. The realization that he was looking at Nathan slowed down. Lucas took in his features, admiring the reality over the fantasy that Lucas had been holding onto since the last time he saw Nathan. Seeing the flesh and bone was far more hypnotic than his imagination. Except… there was something different. As Lucas moved his eyes across the legs, the torso, the arms, the neck, the hair, and finally to the face of Nathan he noticed something. Those eyes, they were different. Not just in colour, but in expression. Yes, they were stills intense and lovely as Lucas remembered them, but as soon as he took note of their different expression, everything started to move so much more quickly.

With a single blink, Nathan was face to face with Lucas. Easily, Lucas could've moved an inch and kissed him. But it wasn't right. Suddenly, Lucas almost felt like he found the wrong person, named off something completely false. No. That wasn't right. Lucas could never confuse another person for the beautiful face of Nathan.

"Y-you don't remember me?" For a moment Lucas's eyes turned sad, thinking that someone who was his roommate for so many months wouldn't recognize him. But at the same time why should Nathan remember him? Nathan was so much better than him or anyone else at that place. The way he carried himself, the way he did everything, just… everything. He's perfect.

Attempting a smile Lucas quietly replied, "It's me Lucas, we were roommates a-" he stopped himself from saying where. Maybe that was another thing that he shouldn't say on top of the fact that he didn't want his name to be shared out loud. After all, Lucas should've known better. Knowing what had happened between Nathan and this town, Lucas should've bitten his tongue, "I'm so sorry," There were almost tears in his eyes as he realized how stupid he had been. He needed to protect the person he cared for so much, not exploit Him to a town that had been so terrible to Him.

There were so many emotions bottled up inside of him for finally seeing Nathan, he just let himself spill over, "I'm so glad you found me, it's been so long." The smile on his face expanded ridiculously. He'd let himself go from how tense he felt at first when Nathan grabbed him. But now it felt like something closer to an embrace. Lucas couldn't stop looking into Nathan's eyes, "You got contacts," he whispered, but it wasn't as if Nathan couldn't hear him as he observed everything about Him.

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