Open Your Eyes (Cashby)

Chapter 19

AUSTIN'S POV

"Come on, Mr. Stanic. It's dinnertime." I coaxed, lightly placing a hand on his shoulder. The elderly man just shook his head, not saying a word. I'd been trying to get him up for the past 15 minutes, but it was proving to be an arduous task. "You're not hungry?" He hesitated before vehemently shaking his head once more. "Not even for roast beef?" His eyes snapped up to mine.
"Roast beef?" I nodded. "O-okay, just this once. These young people, thinking they can tell everyone what to do..." He began grumbling, standing up and ambling towards the dining hall. An amused grin spread on my lips, and he looked back at me. "Something funny, boy?"
"No, sir." I replied. People were so strange and enjoyable. I loved each and every one of them, for all their interesting quirks and weird little peculiarities. As I pondered us, the ones who wandered about the planet in search of fulfillment, I felt grateful. We operate on arbitrary, dance upon whimsy. Is that what made each person so detailed and unique? I guess I'd never really know, but I was definitely blessed to be experiencing it.
Striding into the dining hall, my eyes came to rest upon a fiery crown of hair that inspired joy and warmth inside me.
"Hey Alan." I said, rubbing his shoulder as I walked by. Things weren't weird between the two of us anymore. That kiss...it was...something. Of course, all kisses are supposed to make you feel something. I bet anyone could have kissed me and I would've had a reaction. Maybe, though, there was a lot of affection and butterflies that I wasn't expecting... No! No, I didn't like it. I'm not attracted to guys. Much less 16 year olds. The whole thing made me feel so insecure with myself. To be completely honest, I wasn't anticipating Alan to kiss me. It felt like... well, that's just the problem. How do I describe it? His lips were so quick, so desperate to animate a response from me. They fit rather perfectly in between mine, and made my knees go weak. Was that normal? Of course, you idiot. The way he gripped my shirt, the small sound he made from an intake of breath, the lack of space between us, it all forced my entire body to erupt in warm butterflies and fuzzy feelings. For a moment, a plug disconnected my body from my mind, and I was kissing Alan back. How that happened, don't ask me. My mind fell into a little trance. After all, I'd only needed a moment to come to my senses. It had occurred to me that maybe I lead him on, but that didn't seem right either. None of it sat well with me: the way I felt around him, my general confusion, and now the stark fact that that had been the best kiss of my life. None of it made a lick of sense. And... and I pushed him away. I yelled. I never yell. Somewhere in between the pleasure of laying my lips against his, and my rationality, I'd decided that pushing him away was my only chance to salvage what was left of normality. On the contrary: as soon as he'd run away, I missed him.
Not wanting to think about it, I suppressed everything and went to the staff lounge for dinner. They didn't require us to eat with patients, or even be in the dining hall unless we were scheduled for duty that day. After eating and making small talk with my fellow orderlies, I laid my head against the pillows in hopes of a good night's rest. All my mind could settle on, apparently, was the way his eyelids fluttered closed, their slightly purple shade, and the way his lips turned up for a smile. I never consciously chose to think about Alan every time my mind was available for wandering. It just... happened.
•••
A few days later, my break came around. To be honest, it was my favorite. Not because I didn't like working; I actually loved work, but it was during break that I was allowed the pleasure of indulging myself in Alan. How strange, I thought to myself, that he's captured so much of my attention, so much of the time. I was welcomed to do as I chose during this time about 3 times a week, and almost always, against my rational judgement, I chose to spend it with him. Alan was some sort of drug, his very essence an addiction to me. How could I have described it? Maybe, our whole lives, we've been focusing on big pictures: who's going where, what's going to happen after, all of those things. But the truth with my lovely ginger friend was that he cared not for those sorts of things. Alan was a collector of small, beautiful details: the remnants of dreams that stick to pillowcases, little glittering shells, eyelashes lain softly on cheeks, the way the light dances on pools of water. And I'd never noticed how much more there was. Why would anyone want to go back to big picture when the smaller one has so much more? These thoughts, swirling about in my mind like uncontrollable leaves in the wind, they were so damn infectious. Alan was plastered all over the inside of my head, and after a while, I learnt to accept it. After all, it seemed so unchangeable. In any event, I was trying to be okay with these concepts of permanent infatuation. Despite my endeavors, I still questioned myself on a daily basis: What's my sexuality? Is it wrong to be like this? Letting go was improbable, forgetting was impossible. Why should I even try? And with that last sentiment, I chased after him, ever so mindless. That's just the effect he had on me: Alan Ashby turned me into one mindless, happy, sun-loving slave.
"Hi." I sat down, cross-legged beside him. Much to my satisfaction, he had his sweet little button nose buried in a book: The Love Dictionary.
"Hm." He mumbled distractedly, his one free hand searching in the grass until he'd found mine, giving a tight squeeze. My heart hammered on inside of my ribcage, begging to be freed. Warm, dazed, and totally unsure, I smiled at him and let go. A few moments later, he snapped the book shut and looked up a me. "Sorry, I had to finish that entry."
"What do you think?" I asked, excited beyond belief. It was...very special to me, to share these things with him.
"I really love it. There are...a lot of ideas in here that interest me." He said slowly, like he was choosing his words. "Like- like how he describes all the different faucets of love, and the little web that interconnects each gesture back to one main motive." My jaw dropped, completely dumbfounded that he understood.
"Finally!" I exclaimed. "Someone gets it." A cute little smile bloomed on his face.
"It's a pretty great book..." He said, flipping to a page and scooting closer. For a while, we just looked through the entries together, discussing.
"Book club, party of two." I chuckled, because he was really getting into the conversation. A redness crept across his cheeks, and a quite endearing one, too. My whole body was so warm, buzzing with excitement at the prospect of being so close to him. It was in these moments that the strong pull of desire wormed its way into my head, my heart. Pushing it away, I tried my hardest to put an obviousness on display, for my own good: you're straight, he's underage, this is wrong. My arsenal of feelings for him were such a huge grey area. Was it wrong to be so close to a person who had limited mental capacity? Was it even more wrong to treat him differently than I would another person? But, I reminded myself, he's not the same as other people. In more ways than one, that was true. No matter which way I looked at it, pondering my sexuality made me feel vulnerable and scared.
"I wish I was an animal." He said randomly. I chuckled at his statement.
"Why?"
"It'd just be way cool." He breathed, giggling. "Like, to be a deer. I could leap through fields and eat plants all day!" My heart swelled for him, the way his sweet, intricate mind worked. My mind wasn't in control any more; my body was. I watched as my fingers quickly trailed beneath Alan's chin, caressing for a moment.
"You're brilliant." I mumbled. Moments like these were so often, and I liked it. I'm not bisexual. I'm straight, 100%. What was it about the prospect of being something other than straight that terrified me so? Maybe it was the fact that I needed balance, and control in my life. Whatever the reason, I didn't want to change my mind. I didn't want to feel like this. And, for all my wants, atop them was the most prominent: I want Alan.
"Thank you." He said sheepishly, eyes avoiding mine. I found him simply irresistible, a precious thing to be treasured always. Much like a detailed photograph, piece of art, or perfectly complied series of words, Alan had a certain element, an essence of purity and excellence.
"And I think you would make a great deer. Or cat. Anything, really."
"Yeah?" He smiled. "Being human is kinda weird. So much pressure." He said, biting his perfect bottom lip.
"Mhm," I agreed, "never any time to frolic."
"Stop teasing." He whined. "Seriously! Have you never wanted to be an animal?"
"I never thought about it." I admitted, twiddling my fingers about in the grass. "Being human is what we're all best at."
"Not me." He protested. Looking up, my amused eyes met his rather unamused ones.
"Oh yeah?" I indulged. He nodded, grinning.
"People are weird."
"You're weird." I poked his chest, a smile tugging at my lips.
"I know." He replied. "I've come to accept that fact." For the rest, we sat in a comfortable silence, simply because nothing needed to be said. Being in his company was enough for me.
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Sorry for the filler, just needed to recap Austin's feelings or something ;) make sure to vote and comment, please!! Votes are important :) I love you all <3 especially you.