I'll Share With You My Heartbeat

thirteen

What's the use?

Kieran laid atop a dumped mattress in the corner of a parking lot, arm hanging off the edge. His turtleneck felt itchy around his collarbones. He let his lack of a conscious take the reins, filling his mind with meaningless thoughts and distracting him from every vehicle spotlight that blinded him.

His fingers fiddled with the piece of pinecone around his neck, an action he'd been doing since he asked Autumn to leave and give him space.

There's no greater source of suffering than a cage with the absence of a way out.

He was no longer frustrated, no longer searching. Numbness seized his body. He no longer cared.

He couldn't remember the last time he lied on a mattress. He couldn't remember the last time he slept.

To Kieran, sleep was a petrifying game of Russian Roulette. He feared one day he would open his eyes and forget that one piece of information he has left of himself— his name.

And that fear prevented him from any form of rest. Technically ghosts don't need sleep, but it exhausted Kieran's mental state anyway.

Suddenly, he heard a subtle vibration— purring?

Eyes opening, he blinked in shock as Socks stood to attention at his feet, yellow pupils on display.

"What—" Kieran spluttered, legs kicking automatically and sitting up, "The hell are you doing here? Leave me alone."

The cat did not look impressed.

"I'm serious," the ravenhead grumbled, scooting away from it, "Leave. Get lost." He buried his face in his palms and rolled over.

Socks meowed loudly.

Kieran groaned in response. "Tell Lennon I'm not gonna be seeing him ever again."

"Why?"

Every fiber in his body froze. Kieran's eyes shot open, focusing hazily on the boy with chestnut hair situated a few feet in front of him, visible hurt on his face.

Did he really just follow his housecat to him? He was literally across town—

"Lennon," the ravenhead murmured, jerking up into a kneeling position.

Lennon was in his signature thin blazer, freckled face plastered with a look of worry and confusion, eye bags noticeable from up close.

"Why?" the boy asked again, glancing down at Socks. Insecurity radiated off his behavior.

Kieran's brain short-circuited, trying to conjure up a good answer. "Listen—"

But Lennon wasn't listening. "I talk too much, don't I?" he said, taking a step back, "I do. Sometimes I go a little overboard and ask too much of other people—"

"No. Stop it," the ravenhead interjected, launching himself to his feet so he could face him eye to eye.

"I can always tone it down a bit," Lennon reassured, words spilling out, "I can! I do this thing— where I, where I filter what I say to make sure I'm not saying too much. So—" His shoulders shook with the force of the avalanche leaving his mouth. "Just please don't stop seeing me."

Kieran's entire being melted at the boy's pleas. "Lennon— Len, look at me." He gestured with an index finger and didn't continue until the boy's eyes were on him. "It's not you. Okay? It's me. I can't."

Tension pinched at the chestnut boy's brows. "Why can't you?"

"Cause I'm occupying your time, Lennon. Your time alive is limited and I can't take that away from you the way I took it from myself."