16 year old Troye Sivan couldn't protect his best friend, James, from what happened when they were younger. Losing the one thing that brought him any happiness, Troye escapes into his art, the only thing capable of breaking his endless cycle of apa...
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"For a touch of her fingers in a darkened room, for a searching look. Take courage, lover! Could you endure such pain at any hand but her?"
- Robert Graves
Tyler's POV
The beginning October was still warm, but the air was starting to cool and the leaves were starting to turn. The October sun, still smoldering but starting to fail, starting to droop a little more heavily. The shadows of leaves, flickering against the sidewalks like pixels. Soon, everything would be covered in a golden powdercoat, the autumn decay sinking in and breaking the whole world apart. It felt like life was beginning all over again. In more ways than one.
Play the tape. The days progressed like a dream sequence, hazy and lethargic in parts, intense and frenetic in others.
Fast forward. Caspar tossing him an apple and bouncing energetically down the hallway. Zoe talking about her new boyfriend, her face dissolved into an expression of soft wonder. Mr. Parker staring at him in astonishment when he raised his hand and volunteered to give his presentation. Then shooting Troye an even look when he smiled and gave Tyler a not-so-subtle thumbs up, ducking his face to hide a smile.
Pause. Burgers and fries spread out across a blanket out on the floor as the Caspar-dubbed Four Musketeers watched Cloud Atlas. Caspar performing the ending monologue of Network. He and Troye glancing at each other and then quickly looking away, both staring up at Caspar rather than meeting each other's eyes.
And then just them.
Him telling Troye a joke and then laughing so hard at his own humor that he got kicked out of the library. Troye following in solidarity. A Friday Night Binge session that left them barely able to walk. Troye glancing over at him instead of paying attention to their lesson. Tyler smiling to himself without particularly noticing it.
For days in a row they continued in this way, and slowly discovered each other. Troye's visits to Tyler's became longer, and more frequent; his sleepovers the rule rather than the exception. Troye's eyes lost a little bit of the haunted shadow Tyler had seen in them, and Tyler's heart began to lift itself slowly, step by step, towards a faint hope. To Tyler, it felt as if a bridge had begun at both ends, reaching toward a place in the middle where they could each rest comfortably.
Press Play.
-X-
Tyler opened his door and was greeted to the sight of a half-frozen Troye, shivering as snow drifted from his hair.
"Apparently," he said, teeth chattering as he stepped through the doorway, "It's supposed to snow today."
"Jeez, Troye," Tyler said, staring as Troye tucked his hands under his armpits. "Come on. Get warm, I'll start the kettle."
Tyler had long since stocked his pantry with Troye's favorite tea, and took one bag out as he started the kettle. "You're soaked, where did you walk from?"
