The Eden Projects (FINAL EDITING)

Chapter 4. Polaroid.

Kasper wasn't sleeping. 

As the warm morning light bent through the window and spilled across the room, Kasper heard someone moving around in the kitchen. For a while, he stayed where he was, pretending to be asleep, listening to the quiet rhythm of cabinets opening and footsteps crossing the floor.

He breathed it in.

The silence, the calm, the warmth of a space well loved. 

Relief.

He was relieved to have somewhere soft to sleep.

Relieved that Zak was his friend.

Relieved Adam hadn't come for him.

Eventually, the smell of breakfast hit his senses like a brick wall. The floorboards creaked softly as someone crossed the room. A hand settled on his shoulder with a gentle tap.

Kasper nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Kas... Kasper..." Zak whispered.

He blinked awake and pushed himself up onto one elbow.

"Man, you slept hard." Zak smiled tiredly. "It's nearly noon, brother."

Kasper rubbed a hand over his face.

Instant regret.

"Oh gosh..."

Even without a mirror, he could feel the swelling.

Zak yawned. "Yeah, well, you aren't exactly Sleeping Beauty either. You know, I was gonna get plastered last night." A crooked grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Guess you saved me from a rough morning."

"Shocker." Kasper managed a tired joke as he took the glass of water and the pills Zak held out. "Ow..." Every inch of him ached. The adrenaline was gone now, leaving behind nothing but bruises and an all encompassing hurt.

Zak narrowed his eyes and dragged his fingers through the dark brown hair piled into a mess of chocolate-colored waves atop his head. "Go wash up. I'll plate us some grub." He clapped his hands together once before lazily wandering back toward the kitchen.

Kasper watched him shuffle off into the tiled eyesore they called a kitchen. There was something about the way Zak moved. Unhurried, unbothered, entirely comfortable...

It settled something inside him.

He was safe here.

If Zak wasn't worried...

Then neither was he.

Zak, as a whole, was interesting.

There was something almost feral about his masculinity. An unkemptness clung to him, from the kinky curls of dark brown hair that never seemed to stay where they belonged- to the freckles scattered across his face. His skin was soft and tanned, deepening over his shoulders every summer, more freckles traced his joints and gathered in uneven patches along his arms.

They made him look younger than he was.

Twenty.

So he said.

Age was something the two of them had never been particularly honest about.

A straight, bridged nose sat squarely in the middle of his gently featured face, drawing everything toward his kind gray eyes. There was a puffy, boyish charm to him that somehow survived everything life had thrown his way. Even his hands betrayed the man he supposed he was. They were rough from years spent taking things apart and putting them back together.

To Kasper, if Zak ever cleaned himself up, half the Rim would be after him. He was naturally attractive, maybe because of his dad's Middle Eastern heritage, but more likely because of the kind of person he was. There was something warm about him that people couldn't help but drift toward. Zak just had that special something. A golden personality. For whatever reason, he'd chosen Kasper as his favorite pastime, always hovering nearby, always finding some excuse to be there. And even though Kasper fought against Zak's constant trailing, against the quiet way he seemed to weave himself into every corner of his life, he knew he'd be hopelessly lost without him.