𓍯 𝐬𝐤𝐳 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

ꗃ ⋆ ࣪ . everybody here is a cloud » angst

warning; aimless depression, feelings of meaningless ig, physical signs of depression, a more poetic take on a more accepting rock bottom, just really sad yk i recommend reading this slowly and really picturing and thinking about it

stars will fall - duster
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⊹ ⋆ﾟ꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

he was just a boy. a boy who had freckles underneath the long eyelashes and dark circles. this boy had to be exhausted.

he stood looking up at the raining sky, his hands in his pockets. you couldn't judge him though—you were doing the same. the rapid blinking and squinting prevented much water from getting into your eyes, but you didn't care either way.

this boy, though; his eyes were open. they weren't fully shut, were the right words. they were just barely open and he would let them fall for a split second at some points when he needed to rest.

you wondered if he would mind if you joined him. either way, you paused your expedition down the sidewalk to stand a respectable distance away from him. you tried copying him, having your lids almost closed but still open, but it felt more comfortable how you did it before, so you accepted the differences.

he then mimicked you. he gave your way a go before returning to his normal habits. although, standing in the rain and watching the cloudy sky even with your face getting all drenched was hardly normal.

you were the first one to look over. you didn't turn your body, you simply rotated your head while maintaining its tilt backward. you thought about if he would even notice or care that you were looking his way.

but when he looked over, you saw it all.

even in the gloomy lighting, you could still make out some freckles and some purple under his eyes. yet the thing that was the most striking to you were his eyes; sad, droopy, but in a way that resembled someone who might be used to this. maybe he came out here everyday to sky-gaze and let the rain drench his face.

you weren't sure what to do, how to react, if you should react at all. but something told you to give him a smile, so you sent him one from five feet away. you recognized how pitiful it was, and how you could definitely smile better than that, yet he gave you the same look back.

he looked exhausted. he looked like someone who just needed a break. even an hour off from his thoughts would probably do him good.

he could definitely see through you, too; your eyes were glossy and visibly different from a person's usual, with how red they were and your eyelashes clumping together. your under-eyes had some spots from how much you grieved on a daily basis. you bet he might've been able to see the dryness if it wasn't raining and if he was closer.

you looked away before him, and he soon followed, looking back up at the sky with you.

the bustling city lights and the repetitive sounds of cars honking and people chattering was overwhelming, so you relied on your comfort, which was covering your ears. this way, you could relish in this feeling of despair.

finally, you closed your eyes.

when you felt hands on yours, it was almost shocking how little you flinched. you might've not even flinched at all. you opened your eyes and recognized that blonde hair out of the corner of your eye. he was helping you out, doing you a favor.

"what about you?" you asked. he might've needed his ears plugged.

he smiled weakly, much like the one you exchanged with each other earlier. "i'll be fine."

you frowned. nobody who did this as a hobby could be fine.

it was silly. you were sharing this moment with a stranger. he was protecting your ears from the world and he didn't even know your name.

something compelled you in that moment. "walk with me?"

hesitantly, he removed his hands and you did as well. you looked him in the eyes again before beginning to pick up your feet—the first thing took up much less effort than the second one.

looking him in the eye was painful, in a way. you wondered if that's what people thought when they made eye contact with you; did they too think about how sorrowful you looked? did they contemplate whether to ask or not, for their own mental stability? were they willing themselves to not ask to learn more?

then again, even if you didn't know why he looked so broken, you were okay with that. sometimes things are better left unsaid. what mattered was that you both knew that each other were going through shit.

the first few minutes of your walk didn't include any speech. all you had was his company, and he had yours. but you decided to break the silence.

"what's your name?" you questioned.

"felix."

"that's a nice name," you said genuinely.

felix was smirking a little in your peripheral vision as he said, "thank you. what's yours?"

"[name]."

"hmm. tell me, what are you doing blinding yourself with the rain at this time of day?" his question made you snicker slightly.

"oh, just getting by," you said like it was a regular thing to do on a saturday night.

he hummed in response. "that's what we're all trying to do."

you waited a few seconds before saying, "i guess you're right."

we're all trying to get by, if you really thought about it. life was nothing but a never-ending cycle for some people, and the days blurred into one. you've never known any other life.

this boy's eyes reflected what his heart said, and that was that he was done. he was just existing now. this was him now. and it made you sad to see someone so beautiful who had gotten to that point.

but on the other hand, you took comfort in it. you took comfort in that despair. that discomfort on his face that made you feel like you were looking into a mirror. if this was an actual mirror you were looking into, though, you'd probably think of your unpleasant appearance as a reason to look away. or maybe you'd stare into it for as long as possible as you really confronted yourself for looking so splintered and smashed and shattered.

"where are you headed?" felix asked.

you shrugged. "nowhere, really." you had been walking around aimlessly before you laid eyes on him and his wet hair and his skater boy outfit and his eye bags.

it felt weird making an effort with something that wasn't merely staying alive for the first time in a while. but you still said, "do you want to go somewhere?"

even walking felt like a chore. the way you wanted to drag your feet across the pavement instead of picking them up, and what you did was the middle ground between those two.

it seemed like effort was a lot for him, too, because he took a long moment to respond with, "yeah. i think i do."

you wondered if he really did. if you guys were anything alike, he might just be saying that. you never wanted to go anywhere, either.

and from there, you found yourselves at the boba place a block away.

⊹ ⋆ﾟ꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

a/n: i had literally the worst cold i've ever had since i was 5 and i conjured this up at 3am... i think i was pretty smart with this eye-based description of a piece. i usually don't write such poetic stuff

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