Loud

Sound is always there. Even when you don't notice him, he is always there, in the honking of traffic or the low humming of the air conditioner or the click-clacking of heels on cement. Of course, Sound always wants you to notice him, so he gets louder and louder until you do. Silence always thinks Sound very vain when he does this, and Silence knows everytime he does this. Because Silence is always there right next to Sound. And Silence holds Sound's hand, never making a noise but talking just the same. And Silence will see Sound get louder and louder because he wants to be noticed, and Silence will tap Sound's hand with his own slender fingers, and press his pale lips to Sound's cheek to remind him that he's always noticed.

Sometimes Silence will cry because no one, not one soul, dead or alive, will ever hear him, not even himself. And Silence will cry because at least tears are something, and he'll scream but the noise won't get passed his throat and he'll cry even harder. And Silence will cry because everyone hears Sound, everyone notices Sound, every single moment of every single day whether they want to or not, and it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair. And Sound will wrap his arms around Silence and hold him while he sheds his unheard tears, mixing the murmurs of soft apologies with gentle caresses and tender kisses. And when Silence calms down enough to listen, Sound will speak with quiet sincerity, and Sound will tell him that it doesn't matter if the whole world never hears Silence, because Sound always hears him and that's all that matters, and anyway Sound is loud enough for the both of them. And Silence will hold up his shaky hands and weakly sign that 'You can't hear me, I can't even hear me'. And Sound will flash a smile that's meant be playful, but Silence can still see the sadness floating behind his eyes. And Sound will put his hand right over Silence's heart and tell him that he can hear it beat, and he'll touch underneath Silence's eyes and tell him he can hear them blink, and he'll put two fingers over Silence's parted lips and tell him he can hear him breathe. And Silence will smile against Sound's fingers, feeling Sound's tanned skin against his own. And Silence will close his eyes and just treasure it, because for right now it doesn't matter, the whole world doesn't matter, because Sound is there and he's telling Silence he can hear him, and he's holding him and Silence can just feel it, he can feel the electricity coursing through himself simply being in Sound's presence, he can feel the buzz of all the noise vibrating off of Sound and it's this ridiculous high that he never wants to come down from. And Silence will take his still-trembling hand and hold up his pinky and his forefinger and his thumb. And Sound will do the same motion with his own hand, although he could just as well have said it out loud. But Sound never says it out loud. Because Sound knows if he does it'll just fade into the unnoticeable background, into the honking of traffic and the humming of the air conditioner and the click-clacking of heels on cement. It'll become meaningless, another vibration lost in a sea of noise, lost in the swirling waves that surrounded Sound like a whirlpool. And if Sound never says it out loud, it's that part of Silence he can keep safe.

And later on, when they lie in bed together and Silence asks Sound if he will sleep tonight, Sound will mutter no. Because Sound is always there. And Silence will readjust himself in Sound's arms and sign that he won't sleep tonight either. Because Silence is always there right next to Sound.