CANTICUM | enoch o'connor

i.

if anyone were to witness the way you and enoch act around each other, it might look like the two of you are dating.

you do couple-y things together, sure. enoch calls you "love" and "sweetheart," sometimes sarcastically, but still. there's constant bickering between the two of you, but only ever about the stupid things. whenever enoch needs someone, he usually goes to you, and you always give him whatever he needs without him having to say what it is, in a kind of wordless understanding. it's not uncommon for the two of you to hold each other.

if enoch's fans knew, they would probably be on your ass in an instant, spewing jealousy. they know enoch isn't soft, and the way he is when he's with you is the closest he ever gets to such a thing. but, still, you know better:

enoch o'connor is not your boyfriend.

for starters, he's not really the boyfriend type. he's not romantic, he's not sweet or kind, he doesn't offer to help you with things; he's generally just not a great person to be around most of the time, much less a great person to have a relationship with. he's always got a sour look on his face and a thousand pessimistic things to say, topped off with a smug smirk. he has been infuriating for as long as you've known him.

no, enoch isn't your boyfriend. he isn't really your...anything. sure, you cuddle sometimes, and there have been moments between you that didn't quite feel strictly platonic, but he's never said anything about it, so neither have you. to have a relationship with enoch that isn't built off hatred is to accept that he will never define what it is between the two of you. enoch has always been one to run at the mention of emotions and attachments, to say that he'll never love someone enough for it to break him, always been so proud to proclaim that he doesn't need anyone or anything.

despite all this, though, that doesn't stop him from strolling into your living room at one in the morning.

you're not asleep (it's summer; what cause do you have to sleep at night?), sitting on the couch, watching a movie on your laptop. enoch stumbles over, places your laptop on the coffee table, and sprawls himself across your lap.

"hello, enoch," you say, patting his head.

"hnngh," he says.

"what are you doing here this time?" you pause the movie. "i thought you were supposed to be on tour."

"hmmph."

"enoch," you say patiently. "i am going to need you to use your words."

"hmm." he closes his eyes.

"enoch." you peer at him. these aren't exactly unusual responses for him to give, but you think you might've heard a slight slurring in his words. you lay a hand across his face. though his pale skin is flushed, he feels cold. "have you been drinking?"

"lil' bit," he mumbles. "hardly."

"that's what everyone says, no matter how much they've been drinking. you didn't drive here, did you?"

you shake him a little when it takes him a moment to response, until he says finally, "no, 'course not. called an uber."

"that's good." something occurs to you. "how'd you get in my apartment? the usual way?"

"uh-huh," he mutters.

this alarms you. the usual way is through your window.

"tell me you didn't climb up a building and into my window while drunk." he doesn't answer. "enoch."

"didn't climb up," he says. he opens his eyes and looks up at you, grinning foolishly. "took the stairs outside of the building and then climbed down. from the roof."

"enoch. that's dangerous."

he flops over in response, face pressed against the couch.

"enoch."

"i know, i did bad again," he says, voice muffled. "please don't be mad."

"i'm not mad," you say. "i just think you're showing an unusual lack of self-preservation tonight. aren't you always saying the most important person to you is you?"

"mm."

"then why—"

"i'm sorry," he says, and you stop, a little surprised. "didn't mean to upset you."

"it's not about upsetting me, enoch—"

"i know. but—" he lets out a sigh, rolling over so he faces you again. his eyes are still closed. "'m tired. no more questions?"

"enoch," you say warningly, because this sounds suspiciously like a deflection.

enoch opens his eyes, looking up at you again. his expression is unusually soft.

"please," he says, and that breaks you.

"okay."

he mumbles something that almost sounds like, "thank you, love," except even now you sort of doubt he would ever say such a thing, and then the two of you sit in silence. absently, you start stroking his hair, and he lets out a sigh that sounds almost content, if enoch could ever really be such a thing.

"something's going on," you say, matter-of-factly. it's not unlike enoch to just drop in whenever he feels like it, but it is unlike of him to show up after drinking. or to drink at all, really. "do you want to talk about it?"

enoch doesn't respond for a long moment, and then:

"i hate everything," he grunts.

"no, you don't."

"i hate everything except you," he amends.

you're quiet, hand stilling for a moment, a little stunned. though you've more or less realized, it's not usual of him to openly admit that he doesn't hate you, that you mean more to him than anyone else. it's probably because he's tipsy.

still, the moment feels unusually tender, so you push his hair back from his forehead and whisper, "that's still not true, but i appreciate it. thank you, love," and you plant a kiss on his forehead. he lets out another little sigh that sounds almost content. the two of you sit in silence again, and when you move to leave, he clutches your hand.

"don't go," he mumbles. "stay here. please."

so you do. and the two of you stay like that together until morning.