A/N: Experimenting
I remember the first time I saw you.
I remember it all perfectly.
You were standing there, one hand in pocket and the other holding a cigarette. A stream of smoke was leaving your lips and the moonlight was beaming down, gently highlighting your features as you stared up at it, transfixed. The circles under your eyes showed me that you were fighting for your life but the moon gave you hope, proving that there was always light, even at the darkest of times.
I loved the look of wonder and amazement that was on your face. The moon had always taken my breath away but now there was someone to take his place - that person was you.
Right then and there I was certain that you were more beautiful than the moon, (I still think that about you now, you know) in fact, more than certain, and I knew it because the sight of seeing you for the first time gave me a bigger rush than all the caffeine in my coffee in the morning and my eyes widened as I tried to take in every detail of you at once - every curve, the way you stood, the shape of your nose, how broad your shoulders were.
Little did I know that you were layers and layers of secrets and personalities and feelings and memories about the past. But of course - I couldn't have caught all of that in just once glance. I'm glad I didn't.
I remember that looking at you made me forget how to breathe because all I could think about was how beautiful you are as my heart hammered in my chest. Never had I ever felt like that before.
It didn't matter that you were four years younger, that we met online or that you were a boy too. All I cared about was that you were there in front of me, finally, and I was feeling a muster of emotions for you.
For the amount of time that I had lived in Manchester, I had grown comfortable with the city and got to know it well, but seeing you standing there in a place I had been to a thousand times made me question everything I had ever known.
How did I walk this many years on this earth without you by my side?
We weren't supposed to meet for the first time in the evening that day. It was supposed to be in the early afternoon, but I was hungover and you claimed to be sick, so we agreed to put it off for 7 hours and let ourselves recover.
I had never approved of smoking that much, but when you threw yourself into my arms and I breathed in your scent for the first time, I grew to love it, because it was apart of you. And how incredible it was that at last, I was holding you.
I didn't say a word as I did so tightly. You didn't either. But I heard you sigh (out of relief, I hoped) and I couldn't stop myself but say: "you're safe now."
I remember during that embrace you were clinging onto me like your life depended on it.
We took out as much out of the city as we could that night but I swear I never took my eyes of you until some shops, one restauarant, a walk and two Starbucks later, you forced me to look out the small glass dome I found ourselves on the Manchester Eye - something I hadn't been on yet until now and something you were dying to do.
I remember how I thought to myself that you were much more beautiful and interesting than city lights and I remember how you suddenly turned nervous, more nervous than me and then said 'close your eyes'. I remember how a few moments later your lips very, very softly touched mine.
I was still quite new to this sort of thing and had no real concious control over myself, so I did what I hoped was kissing you back but whatever it was I felt you smile and squeeze my hand.
My heart flipped over.
I was the luckiest person in the world.
Over the coming months I learnt how damaged you were. You were self-destructive and self-loathing and haunted by your own thoughts. But I also learnt to love you. I learnt to love every single bit of you.
Wonderful, glorious, beautiful you.
Sometimes you were sad. Well, not so much sad, but empty, and neither you nor I could work out why. I didn't know what to do so I would lamely suggest something like watching Wall-E and pull you tightly to my chest and I'd be so in tune, so aware of you that I'd just able to hear you say in a tiny whisper 'thank you'.
I had been told before that people were not medicine, but you were mine and I tried to be yours. I tried to fill your emptiness, whatever it was that you were missing.
I promised to myself that I'd change myself to be what you needed, but you complained and said you liked me just how I was, so I promised you I'd never leave.
I'll never leave you.
And finally, you relaxed with those words.
I remember you once told me that I make you happy and safe. But most importantly, I made you feel alive.
We were free to love back then. We were just two idiots on the internet that no one watched so I was able to kiss you in the middle of the street for no reason and hold your hand when we went out together.
I loved it. I loved calling you mine with nothing to worry about.
I loved you the most, though. (Still do.)
I fell for you. I fell completely totally utterly in love with you.
It was obvious by the way I looked at you, some people said to me with smiling faces and a teasing tone when I asked them how to know if you loved someone. I was in my 20s and still didn't know what I was doing since you were the first person my heart happy.
I remember hearing you say those three little words to me the first time. We were in a queue for a rollercoaster and I had accidentally said something stupid like I tend to do, and then you laughed and called me an idiot and then said the words I'd secretly been dying to hear.
You shocked not just me but yourself, as you bit your lip then smiled, a pale pink colouring your cheeks.
But as the number of our following grew more and more, so did the distance between us. Even when the camera was off you'd sit futher away, told me you loved me less and less. I was lucky if you held my hand for a minute.
I didn't tell you, but it hurt more than I could have ever imagined. Just having you being in the same room and being afraid you'd flinch and leave if I tried to touch you was killing me.
I confronted you about it one day, while I was upset and needed your comfort but it was getting to the point where you wouldn't even look at me. I loved you so much and it was making heart ache and my back ache and everywhere just ached. I needed your touch. I needed you.
I lashed out. I didn't mean to, but I did. I just shouted at you from the across the room and you sat there, stunned. You'd never seen me like this before.
You cried, told me you were sorry. It's the pressure, you said. I don't want them to ruin everything we have.
It was too late, you've already done that.
I can fix it. Please, let me try. I don't want to lose you. I just didn't want it all to become too much. You are my life. Losing you is the last thing I want. Please. Let me fix it.
You did try. I'll give you that. You're still trying. You're letting yourself love again.
We're getting there, slowly. We're sleeping in the same bed again and you kiss me when you like.
You said you'd conceal how you feel when we're on camera together. You don't hide it very well. They can all see.
I don't think I mind.
