we are the dreamers - rewritten

three - horace

So he goes to the bathroom, seeming fine, then its been like, what? Fifteen minutes? So I go to look for him, and there he is. 

Crying. His dark blue eyes fathomless and beautiful and just like an ocean storm in the middle of the night. 

I've never seen Enoch cry, never even been able to imagine it. And and now all these ridiculous thoughts are racing through my mind. Mainly; what the hell. 

Also, although I doubt this is the case, maybe its because he feels the same. I mean, I know quite well how hard those feelings hit and how much they suck. Especially since nobody knows he's gay. Maybe he's trying to deny it. (He thinks I don't know. But I can read him like a book).

I never denied it. Not like he does. I've never had to. When I came to the loop, I was coming from a time when it was accepted. But he's been here far longer, from a different world all together. 

There's so much I don't know about him.. 

I don't know where he ran off to. Probably the basement. I care about Enoch, and I want to make sure he's alright. But I also want to respect his request so he's not even angrier at me. So I head in the opposite direction, towards the dorms. I'll talk to him later, when he comes back. 

---

It's getting dark. I can see the sky beginning to fade from the vibrant sunset that took place just a few minutes ago to a dim yellow glow, low on the horizon. 

I should probably look for him soon, so he's not out past curfew. I hate it when he has to cross the fields past dark all alone and sneak past the ymbrynes on their night patrols. However he doesn't seem to care. I just worry about him too much. 

He takes too many risks. 

I tap the pads of my fingers on the desk in front of me in a steady, nervous rhythm, being careful not to mess up my nail polish (which is still drying. Normally Emma does them for me, but I needed something to get my mind off of Enoch and the state he was in the last time I saw him). 

So I sit there, waiting. It's half past nine already. Curfew is at eleven, since its summer. The changeover was an hour ago, I didn't even notice. I open Spotify on my computer, in the corner of my screen it tells me that Enoch is somewhere, listening to music. Something hardcore that I probably won't like, so I press shuffle on my own playlist, because I need that easy-on-the-mind kind of stuff. Except nothing too appealing comes up, and I end up skipping every song I have. Then re-shuffling it, with the same results. 

I go to Netflix, but there's nothing good enough. YouTube is all the same, even James Charles can't keep my focus. It appears that everyone on Instagram is dead, except for Jacob, but I'm not interested in his gushy selfies with his boyfriend and girlfriend, Millard and Emma. Not right now at least.

I end up turning off all the lights and lying down on my unmade bed with my clothes still on and my teeth not brushed and my face not in a mask. And it's so unlike me that I become even more distraught. So I roll over on my face and do something that, unlike Enoch, I do all the damn time. Which is cry a whole bunch. 

My eyes get all irritated and my hair is beyond ruined, but god at least I feel a little better. 

I lie there for a long time, getting lost in my thoughts and losing track of time. Then all of a sudden I hear the door click and sit bolt upright. Enoch steps in quietly right as I turn my bedside lamp, making him jump. 

"Enoch! You were out for ages. You really had me worried." I say, standing up and, hesitantly, walking towards him. 

He looks annoyed, "Why aren't you asleep?" He sighs, "I thought maybe I'd just be able to jerk off and go to sleep and forget everything that's happened today." 

He's very blunt, if you've not noticed. 

"As if! I've been worried sick, Enoch." I say, almost softly.  He looks at me skeptically, up and down and back again, taking in my rare, disheveled state. 

 "Wow, you're a mess." He says finally, folding his arms. 

"Forget that." I say, trying to flatten my hair, "Where have you been?" 

He sighs again, his eyes cast downward. "Around." A pause, he looks at me through his thick lashes (of which I've always envied). "Look, Horace.. I'm sorry about being weird earlier and disappearing all afternoon. I just, I had to clear my head." 

I think that's the first time I've heard a sincere apology out of that boy's mouth. It's stunning. 

"It's fine. Well I mean, not entirely, because you kind of scared me and I've been falling apart all afternoon but-"

"You? Falling apart? Does seeing me cry really affect you that much?" 

"Well, it's more than that. You're my best friend and I really care about you." I start. Enoch scoffs, "Can we not get all emotional, I need to unwind." He tries to walk past me to his bed. 

I step in front of him, "Enoch, stop it. Please just listen to me, just this once." I beg. 

I can almost feel him soften, yet his face doesn't change, "What's so important that you need to talk about it at one in the morning? Can't it wait until tomorrow?"   

I don't know what to say next, mostly because I wasn't expecting him so actually listen. 

"Don't you think I deserve more of an explanation?" I say eventually. Enoch rolls his eyes, "I already told you, had to clear my head." 

"I mean about the crying. What happened in the bathroom that made you so upset?" 

Enoch shuffles his feet, "Nothing really happened in there." He says, "I was just being shitty and emotional."

"Okay, but why?" I urge. 

To my astonishment, when he looks back at me his eyes are brimmed with tears, "Horace, don't- don't make me do this." He mutters, just above a whisper. 

He blinks, a tear slipping down his sunburned cheek. 

I take hold of both his shoulders, gently, in fear that he might slip away. Or that I might. He looks at me again, his eyes so blue they're almost glowing. 

"Sorry." I whisper, "For pushing you too far. And making you cry.. again." When I say 'again' I feel his breath hitch. 

"What makes you think it was your fault?" He mumbles slowly, nearly whimpering. But he's not denying it. And with him standing here in front of me, completely open, nothing hiding, I know for certain that he's in love with me. The realization is sort of terrifying, but everything makes sense. 

He's about to say something. I don't really want to hear it (probably another excuse, anyway). 

So I kiss him instead. 

---

Author's note:

HEY guys, sorry for the late update! I've been extremely trying to catch up in school, start my comic, get over this damn stomach bug, and do tennis. Love you all & hope you enjoy this update! 

P.S. Wanna hear a little playlist I made about these two? check it: https://open.spotify.com/user/brookyelan03/playlist/7vrjmazO7YtS0HGV27WS3E?si=AgforBIrTXuf81t3YVJs9A