watchful eyes (tronnor)

thirty two; the lifespan of a butterfly

sorry I meant to update yesterday but then I stayed up until three in the morning to read the new Harry Potter book so obviously I have my priorities. (also if you've read it please come talk to me because no one in my family reads fast enough ugggggh)

troye could not breathe.

everything was too fast and too bright and too dark and too blurry and too slow. the world was in technicolor but troye was wearing a noir filter and a black and white heart. there were no in betweens here, no gray and no heartbeat.

heartbeats were not in between, he thought. they were alive and nothing but.

but troye could not feel his heart.

"you - " troye started, and stopped. he did not know what he wanted to say. and then there were words, his tongue twisting and bending and burning. "how dare you?"

connor lurched back. (here was the gun, hidden in a tapestry that connor had tried to build for himself.)

"you - you - you knew - " troye was shaking, trembling, screaming, breaking. "this whole goddamned time - you let me hurt and you never said a word - " troye could not bring himself to breathe. connor was falling, away, away, away; everything was falling and shattering and connor was going with it. "and now you - you are making fun of me - how - how dare you - "

connor could not look at troye when he said, "i never - i swear, troye - "

troye was bleeding anger and connor was crying forgiveness.

"troye - i promise - you - you are everything and - i - i - "

troye waited.

"i did not understand before," he whispered. the stars did not hear him but troye was the only one who needed to. "but i - i'm in love with you and i always have been and - "

(connor does not throw words around lightly.)

troye said, "nicholas."

(troye does not either.)

then troye was gone.

and connor tried not to cry because troye had not said no.

(he left troye's house only a bit after troye did and troye's mother smiled at him as if she knew everything and always had.)

troye walked to nicholas' house and instead of footsteps he only heard the scream of his thoughts.

there was connor and there was troye and there was nicholas. a song that had already lasted a lifetime and a butterfly that had only just grown wings. a thousand music notes and a tiny insect the color of the universe. everything and something. connor and nicholas.
troye could still feel the taste of connor's lips and he could imagine the touch of nicholas' fingers.

with connor he was immortal.

(broken and tired and sad and lonely and endless and in love)

with nicholas he had the lifespan of a butterfly.

(beautiful and hopeful and scared and small and innocent)

troye could feel a thousand endless nights with connor on the tips of his fingers; everything that he has ever wanted and longed for and everything he has broken himself over.

troye could hold his feelings for nicholas in the palm of his hand. not because they were small, but because there was an end to them.

connor was a galaxy, an expanding universe, a river with no end.

he was on a bridge that he had always stood at the edge of and this was a ladder for him to climb off of and there was the other side.

with nicholas, he was perfect.

with connor, he was troye.

troye said, "nicholas."

nicholas said, "hey." and he smiled. troye felt a bit of himself reach for him
and split away because of this boy who never smiled enough.

troye says, "connor and i kissed."

and nicholas feels himself die; the wings of a butterfly ripped away with the colors still glittering in the sun.

and troye tries to hurt (that is what one should do, when a relationship ends, right?) but he cannot because there is (and always has been) connor.